Page 83 of Wreck Me

‘You’re not supposed to be home until Friday.’ My voice is thick with sleep. As I sit up, the covers drop to my waist and his gaze falls to the cropped ivory cami I pulled on before falling into bed last night.

‘And you’re not supposed to be seen with another man until after graduation.’ His voice is terrifyingly calm but his jaw is clenched so hard, he’s in danger of needing emergency dental treatment.

‘I wasn't seen with another man by anyone,’ I quip. ‘There was no one else in the library but us.’

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’ He lurches to his feet and closes the distance between us.

The scent of citrus surrounds me, seeping into my skin. His bulky frame towers over the bed and sharp arresting eyes devour every inch of my skin, like a predator waiting to pounce.

I wish he would pounce.

After last weekend, that's all I can think about. I can’t concentrate on anything else, especially my dissertation even though my deadline is looming, which is why I reluctantly agreed to go to the library with Shane. Here, in the house, the scent of James lingers. I half expect him to waltz around every corner or slide into the dining room. It’s distracting to the point of destruction.

‘I’d say it makes you feel about as good as I felt, knowing every woman in New York was ogling you.’

A flicker of something crosses his face but before I have time to decipher it, strong hands grip my waist and pin me to the bed. His taut body presses against my torso with a promise I can only pray he’ll finally deliver on.

‘I told you, angel, you’re mine and I’m yours, until graduation, at least. And I don’t share. Nor would I ever expect you to. I’m a lot of things, Scarlett, but I’m not unfaithful.’ Twinflames lick over my skin sending goosebumps firing in every direction.

‘Not even to yourfakegirlfriend?’ I’m testing the boundaries, but I can’t help it. This thing between us feels more real than anything I’ve ever experienced before. Not that I have much to compare it to.

‘That’s my cock pressing against you, sweetheart. Does that feel fake to you? The way I want you is real. The way you live in my head is real. The way you steal the breath from my lungs every time I lay eyes on your perfect face. The way your laughter echoes around the empty walls of this house. It’s always been real. I think it’s time I taught you that.’ He rests his body weight on his right side and uses his left hand to tear the bedcovers back. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.’ My breath hitches in my throat.

‘You think that, but I’m not sure you know what you're signing up to.’ Thick fingers trail over my stomach before sliding beneath the cami and tracing teasing, maddening circles around my nipples.

‘I’m signing up for you to do whatever you like to me. I’m yours.’ The truth of it hits me as my words tumble out. ‘I’ve been yours since the minute you walked into the club. Maybe even before then.’

A low murmur of approval slips from his lips a split second before they crash against mine. His tongue invades my mouth, tasting, exploring and dancing to a rhythm that sounds like home.

Greedy fingers finally grip my nipple, pinching and rolling it. My hips arch upwards, desperately seeking the friction I crave. Palms slide over my breast before gliding lower over my hip bone and lower until his hand slides inside my panties.

‘You’re soaked for me, angel,’ he groans, fingers slidingbetween my folds. Electricity crackles through every nerve ending in my body.

‘I told you I’m ready.’ I part my thighs wider in a shameless invitation.

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ He inches lower on the bed and dips his face to my sex, tugging my thong over my thighs. ‘Fuck, I’ve missed you.’

‘Me? Or my pussy?’ I tease.

‘Both of you,’ he murmurs before offering a slow, languid lick.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ I gasp.

‘Me? Or my tongue?’ Touché.

‘Both of you.’ Two can play his game, although we both know he’s had much more experience. A nervous shiver slides down my spine.

‘Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it so good for you, I promise.’ His pupils reflect the hunger that’s rumbling inside of me. The sight of him in that killer suit, buried between my legs, will be forever imprinted on my brain.

His tongue rolls over my clit in slow, teasing strokes and my hips buck. ‘James, I need you,’ I pant, scraping my nails across his scalp. I haven't a clue what I’m doing, but I’m desperate for him to show me.

I want him so badly. And not just in this moment and up until I graduate, but maybe forever. For now, I’ll take what I can get and worry about the wounds to my heart later.

‘I love it when you cry my name. I love it when you come on my face. My hands. But I need you to come on my cock now.’ He presses tiny kisses against the inside of my inner thighs. ‘You’re so wet for me, baby. You’re ready.’ He rocks up on the bed, shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it on the floor. He stands, reaches into his pocket, produces a square silver foil and tosses it on the bed before dropping his trousers.

My throat thickens at the sight of his enormous erection straining his black boxers.

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