Page 26 of Wicked S.O.B.

“You feel like pure silk. I can touch this skin, worship it, forever. Do you know what?” he demands thickly.

I can’t respond. My craving has taken over every last coherent thought. I sway beneath his touch and his other hand immediately captures my waist. He doesn’t bring me up against his body the way I want. The whimper falls from my lips before I can stop it.

“Do you want something, Elly?”

“Everything. I want everything.”

One finger traces my collarbone, then up my chin to track my bottom lip. “You say that, but do you know what everything entails? Are you prepared for it?”

I raise my chin. “Yes.” No hesitation or equivocation.

Chapter Seven

Elly

Uncensored

Quinn gives me a solemn nod as his finger continues to caress my lip. “That pleases me. So much.”

“I’m glad.”

“You know what else will please me?”

“What?”

“This.” His fingers sinking into the collar of my dress is my first warning. The loud, long, merciless rip that follows is its own evidence. The dress he’s hated for a year hangs off my arms in a shredded mess he’s already forgotten about, if the rabid look in his eyes is any indication.

I didn’t just go for the outer trappings for my role. My underwear is also resurrected from a time when desperation was both my first and last names. It’s clean, but cheap.

“Jesus. I don’t know whether to spank your tight little ass or commend you for this fucking audacity.” He turns me around and yanks the dress free to better examine the thrift store–bought set of charmless white cotton panties and matching bra. Impatient fingers slide under the bra straps and push them aside.

An angry hiss rips from him as he traces a patch of slightly stinging skin. “Fucking hell, Elyse. Do you know it’s left a mark? Do you know how crazy that makes me?” he growls.

“I’m sorry.”

Without warning, his teeth sink into the curve of my shoulder. It’s not painful, but there’s enough intent to grab my attention, right before he kisses the ravaged pain away. “Are you? I don’t think you are. I think you’re determined to push me over the fucking edge. Is that your intention here?”

“As long as I get to come with you over that edge, yes.”

That paralyzes him for a moment. Then his head drops between my shoulders. “God, Elly. So much power. So much fucking power,” he whispers against my skin.

“Please, Mr. Blackwood.”

“You destroy me. The moment you lifted those beautiful eyes and looked into my camera, you fucking destroyed me.”

“Please.”

His hands move over my body even as he continues speaking. “Every word you spoke, every breath.” Fingers unhook my bra and pull it off me. A kiss at the top of my spine. “I wanted to know every single thing about you. I wanted to own you.”

“You did. You owned me. You still do.”

“Then I wanted to protect you.”

“You protect me.”

“Not always.” Pressure at my waist and then the glide of my nude tights over my hips and down my legs. I step out of my flats, and he pulls the thin material free. “I let that fucking asshole Getty take you from me.” His fingers bite into my thighs for a moment, before they caress upward to rest on the lower curves of my butt. I feel the touch of his lips on my left butt cheek a second later, then a nip of teeth, then another kiss on my right. “And you know what I swore that day, Elyse? As I watched him drive off in that fucking van with you in the back?”

I’m high up a tower in the middle of the financial district wearing nothing but a pair of cheap cotton panties, while one of the most powerful men in the country whispers dark memories against my skin.

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