Page 52 of Wreck Me

One strong hand cups my ass cheek as he buries his fingers between my legs, applying the perfect amount of pressure to my needy clit. It’s the single most intoxicating experience of my short life.

‘You’re so fucking sexy, sweetheart.’ His voice is so breathy, I almost believe him.

My legs tremble as I try to hang on, nowhere near ready for this to be over, but it’s impossible. The pressure builds below until I’m blind with the need to come. Hot white stars burst behind my eyelids and my entire body ignites into flames. The pleasure is paralysing.

James pumps my entrance with his fingers relentlessly, like he’s savouring every second. His hand doesn’t stop until he’s wrung every ounce of pleasure from my body and my limbs are limp with exhaustion.

Eventually, he slides his fingers out, brings them to his mouth, and sucks them. ‘How’s that pent-up pressure? Still need to hit the dancefloor?’ He rises from the floor and presses his mouth to mine.

I’m still dazed when he pulls back. ‘Fuck. That was… the hottest experience of my life.’

‘Shame it was just one time then, hey?’ He winks, and I slap his chest. ‘Happy Valentine’s, Scarlett.’

‘Happy Valentine’s,’ I murmur, wondering if I should give him another type of present.

He pats the pocket containing my lingerie. ‘By the way, these are mine now.’

‘And what will I wear?’

‘Nothing, sweetheart. And when we’re out there with my family, I’ll have the pleasure of knowing the last thing that touched that pretty pussy was me.’

‘You’re a bad man, James Beckett.’ I stand still as he wiggles my dress down over my hips, smoothing the material over my still shaking quads.

He flashes me a wolfish grin. ‘Next time you need to let off some pent-up energy, you know where to come.’

I’m officially ruined.

An hour later, I’m still reeling. Like a drug addict floored by her first hit, I’m already wondering how I can get my next one. So much for just one time.

Getting intimate with James goes against everything I said, but that was before I knew what pleasure he could bestow.

I need more.

It’s all I can think about.

He’s created a monster.

His hand rests on my bare leg as we sit on the low velvet couches with his brothers. Every now and again, his thumb swipes in a circular motion over my skin. From his subtle smirks and sideways glances, he makes it clear it’s a deliberate reminder.

As if sitting here panty-less isn't a reminder enough.

I sip on a glass of champagne while James talks shop with his brothers. From their pinched expressions and hushed whispers, it’s obvious there’s some sort of problem.

It can’t be too serious, given James was happy to abandon the discussion to get on his knees for me.

‘You have got to be fucking joking me.’ James’s voice is calm but it’s tinged with a hard edge. Every hair on my neck stands to attention.

I follow his gaze and my blood runs cold when I spot Declan O’Connor, my former step-brother, flanked by four of his henchmen.

I could pick out those cold, callous eyes in a sold-out stadium. They haunt my dreams and fuel my night terrors. The pleasure of the present is eradicated by the pain of the past.

Declan’s eyes narrow as he zeros in on us. I twist my torso so my back is to him. My heart pumps furiously in my chest.‘If I ever see you again, I’llkill you myself.’

If it weren’t for my other stepbrothers, I’m pretty sure he would have already made good on that promise. After all, their father is rotting in a prison cell because of me. Mind you, he’s not dead, which is more than I can say for my mother.

My fingers gravitate towards the cross nestled in the hollow of my throat. My chest constricts. My legs tremble. This time, not with pleasure but with panic.

I need to get out of here.

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