Page 53 of Wicked Surrender

With the distant sounds of the party thudding in vibrations on the door he pinned me to, he lifted his hand to clutch my throat as he devoured me. His fingers didn’t choke me. It wasn’t painful, just secure. From the tips of his fingers to the meat of his palm, he kept his hand on me like he wanted to ruin me with this kiss.

And I was all for it.

I sucked on his tongue, needing to show him that I relished it all. The heat. The lust. The danger of kissing my bully.

Shock strummed through me, aware that I’d never, ever been kissed like this before. This was what I’d been missing with Ethan. This was what excited me about the future when I’d make time for a man in my life.

This.

Him.

He pulled back, giving us both a brief chance to suck in air. His eyes glittered, so dark and full of surprise as he furrowed his brow and stared down at me.

Keeping his hand on my throat, he urged me to reach up to kiss him again.

Fuck.

Yes.

Please.

I was lost. Drowning under the pressure of kissing him, I followed his lead as he growled and dove for more. He licked and sucked. Nipped and panted. Again and again, he kissed me with a brutal urgency, almost furious with me or himself.

“I don’t want to hear that fucking bullshit from your lips again,” he threatened before kissing me harder yet. Beneath the sting of his lips on mine, I was drugged and addicted.

“I don’t want you to say another goddamn word about your not being—” He slammed his body against mine, kissing me as he ground his erection over my stomach.

I clung to him, holding on to his muscled shoulders as he rubbed the proof of his attraction against me.

“Not another fucking word about your not being beautiful,” he demanded.

He lowered his hand that he had on the door to slide it over my side. Possessive and greedy, he spread his touch down until he grabbed my ass cheek. Hauling me toward him as he ground me into the door, he ripped his lips from my mouth.

“Don’t ever fucking say it again.”

I swallowed, desperate not to pass out. Shaking my head weakly, I stared at him and couldn’t guess whether I was arguing with him or telling him I wouldn’t belittle myself.

“Not beautiful?” he snarled before returning his lips to mine. He dug his fingers into my ass, clutching me with a slight bite of pain that made me ache for him even more.

“How the fuck can you think that?” he whispered angrily as he kissed along my jaw. “How can you fucking think that?”

I whimpered, unable to speak. All I needed was for him to never, ever stop.

“Look at this.” He lowered his gaze, prompting me to look down too to watch him grind against me. The tank top I chose to wear wasn’t too revealing, but with him moving against me, the fabric strained and showed more of my breasts nearly spilling out of my bra.

“Look at what you fucking do to me,” he growled, pushing his hardness toward me again.

He possessed me, body and mind. I closed my eyes as he kissed me again, wanting to savor every second of this all-consuming and overwhelming heat that blanketed me. I was lit up, inside and out, all on fire and charged to need him now.

As he moved his hand to the front of my shorts, rubbing my pussy, I damned the layers of my shorts and panties.

“Look at this,” he ordered. “Look at how fucking gorgeous you are like this.”

I rocked my head back against the door, and he chased me to plunder my mouth again.

But the second he shoved his hand beneath my shorts and panties, swiping his long fingers over my entrance and feeling how dripping wet I was for him, he backed up.

Suddenly depriving me of his wicked touch, he jerked back and glared at me.

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