Page 65 of Black Sheep

“Now what?” My voice is a hoarse, shaky mess I thoroughly detest.

He kicks the door shut with his foot and shrugs off his jacket.

He prowls forward, tossing the leather without looking where it lands.

“We’re going to take a shower. I’m going to fuck you again. I’m going to feed you. Then we’re going to talk about this.” He indicates the room with a slow twirl of his finger.

Chapter Seventeen

BATTLE STATIONS

Axel

Nothing more than unsustainable dreams spun by horny teenage idiots.

I can’t get the words out of my head. Which is absurd considering I have endless proof of her heartless duplicity. It’s why she’s here, after all.

So why the fuck do I want to smash my fist into that damn painting I once loved so much? Why do I want to destroy every piece of furniture in the room?

I inhale. Slow. Steady. Slow—

Fuck it.

My boots come off with vicious kicks. Her little gasp is music to my ears. I want more. I will have more. Preferably when I’m balls deep inside her treacherous little body.

“Take off your clothes.”

Either she’s resigned to her fate or she’s eager to be rid of the borrowed clothes. I don’t care either way. The coat is discarded, and the T-shirt and shoes come off faster than they went on. In a heartbeat, she’s naked. Her beauty punches me in the gut.

Christ, she’s beyond gorgeous. From her tumbling hair to her swollen lips to that immoral little triangle at the top of her smooth, shapely thighs. The triangle my cock is burning to fill. And her breasts. Fuck me, those tits were the subject of my wet dreams long before I ever got to taste what was between her legs.

I force myself not to look at the bruises on her body.

I force myself not to ask why.

I force myself not to wonder, for the millionth time, how I got it so wrong.

I’ve driven myself insane for far too long.

Tonight, my cock overrules every single thought. I unzip my pants and push away my remaining clothes.

Her gaze drops to my erection, her mouth parting on a cute little pant that has my balls tightening with the raging need to fuck. Her thighs do that twitchy, slidey thing that drives me nuts. I close the distance between us, slipping my fingers into her hair.

Her head tilts up, way up, and I realize, despite what I said in the elevator about the heels, that I prefer her like this. Petite. Breakable.

Mine.

I fist her hair, drawing her head back, exposing her face to me. Her nostrils quiver with a false vulnerability and her bewitching blue eyes darken with a peculiar light that reminds me of the guileful heart I’m dealing with.

I drop my hands to her shoulders and turn her around. “Bathroom. Now,” I rasp.

She obeys. Her plump, heart-shaped ass taunts my cock as she walks. I resist the urge to turn that glorious skin pink and stalk after her.

Like in every suite in the club, the adjoining bathroom is fitted with every amenity and luxury. The fees I charge demand nothing less than the best. I bypass the Jacuzzi bath and head for the large shower cubicle. The shower is fitted with half a dozen heads ranging from a gentle spray to jet stream. I select a middle range and turn back to her.

She’s gathering her hair to her crown, her movements slow and sultry, her eyes watchful.

“Leave it. It’s getting wet whether you tie it or not.”

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