Page 46 of Under Pressure

“You used me,” she cried out, staring into his dead eyes. “You’ve always just used me. I—”

His grip on her tightened so she’d stop, causing her to wince again. Incensed as all hell, he curled his lip, staring her down. Watching her hate him, he fell silent, unwilling to give her anything else. As the burning rage inside stilled him, the tension in her wrists subsided. She’d stopped fighting back…hopeless.

Her head dropped, her gaze downcast, giving him a view of her bright ponytail that was starting to look fucked up. Her shoulders were heaving, and Delta stared. He oscillated between painfully aware and just numb, like a light flickering on its last legs. As her body started shaking, he released his grip on her wrists, letting them fall back into her. She was crying.

But he’d fallen silent.

“You’ve never given a fuck what I wanted.” She wept.

“When have you ever told me what you wanted?” he snarled, removed.

“Christ, what is the matter with you?”

On autopilot, he pulled her trembling body flat against his, hovering his mouth near her ear. Blinking rapidly, like he was trying to regain lucidity, he found his lips grazing her ear, and he took in the scent of her hair. Inhaling her brought him back, somewhere. His teeth found her ear again, tasting it—teasing it. It was the one thing he knew how to do.

There was something about Kendra that immediately made his cock ache, springing him into action even amid a bloody war. Near her, he could rely on feeling a strong, uncontrollable urge to kiss her senseless and fuck her until she screamed his name, until he could pretend she was his. Sex was easy, especially with her.

He dropped his head even lower, slowly kissing down the side of her face, angling it just right for him. In a barely audible sigh, she let three words slip that sounded like ‘please don’t stop’. Good, because he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want her to want it to stop.

“What was that?” he growled, demanding her deference, needing her to confess.

He kept on, using his best tactics against her, getting harder as she breathed the words again. They were maybe a little less coherent but exactly what he wanted to hear, not that he needed an official invitation. She let out a soft moan as he kept her jaw gripped with one hand, provoking her as he kissed up her face, back to her ear. Her responsiveness drove him wild, and he settled comfortably into control. With his other hand, he explored her, up and over her breasts until he got more of the reaction he craved, until he felt her back arch towards him in arousal. It was always about winning.

“You know why they started calling me Delta?”

“Why?” she breathed out, closing her eyes.

“They said I’m the difference between a dream and a nightmare.” He recalled the words of his chief after his first grisly battle.

“Are you my nightmare?” Her voice cracked, resentful and bitter, throwing sand in his face.

He drew his head back, locking eyes with her. She didn’t know the half of it. He wanted to tell her the truth. There’s something wrong with me.

She inched out of his arms, taking a step back to the bed. He stalked her, stepping to where she stood. She sucked in a breath as she observed him transforming, fear crossing her face. He liked seeing her scared. Hunger overwhelming him, blood coursed through his body, with that same eerie icy heat. That side of him—that uncontrollable side—broke out of whatever thin veil of civility he had. She’d never harbored illusions that he was a nice guy anyway.

“I hate what you do to me,” she ground out, igniting something in him that he couldn’t explain. “I hate that I can’t trust you.”

“Do you hate me?”

She bit her lip, tears blinking out of her eyes, and whispered back, “Yes.”

“Good,” was all he could grunt out before plunging to take her mouth, startling her.

Shocked, she stiffened in his arms and half-heartedly pushed back, refusing him. But he wouldn’t be denied, not with her standing in his room, right before his bed. Giving her one more damn good reason to hate him, he savagely kissed her, whether she liked it or not.

Her plump lips parted to welcome his tongue, proving to him that she didn’t hate him at all, allowing him to taste the wetness inside her that he’d been fantasizing about all week. As he held her jaw, angling her mouth perfectly to receive him, she pulled at his shirt, finding her way to his core. She groaned as she felt up his abs, and he knew why. Maybe he was a cocky motherfucker, but he wasn’t stupid, and he was happy to hear her adoration. He tore his shirt off, sending it to the corner of the room. Her subsequent gasp drove his cock to attention, standing high and alert.

He locked eyes with her and remained silent, but a terrible smile spanned his mouth. It was damn well for the best that she thought she hated him. It made things a lot easier. She had no idea what was coming. In that moment, all he wanted was to feel her skin underneath his, giving herself to him, telling him what he wanted to hear. Aggressive as fuck, he dove and took her mouth again, kissing to thrill and forever brand her as his. She’d never forget it.

He gripped her hair, intertwining and controlling, and she willingly received his tongue, exactly how he wanted.

“Are we doing this again?” Kendra whispered in between kissing.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.”

She made quick work of dropping his jeans and boxers to the floor, letting him kick them off as he stood before her naked and raw. That little breath that came out of her mouth as she watched him in the moonlight was enough for him. He pumped the length of his manhood as he pushed her back onto the bed, ready to undress her and appreciate her exactly the same. The only thing more welcome than the fact that she was giving him a much-needed release was the fact that she was making him a little less numb in the process.

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