Page 69 of The Confidant

A good chunk of my plushies have moved in and taken over.

Poe’s arms wrap around me from behind, and his chin rests on my shoulder. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s grinning.

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” I pout. “I stepped into the trap just like the rest of my crew.”

“I did stuff you in my car and take you home,” he admits, pressing gentle kisses along my throat. “It’s a familiar routine.”

“I know it,” I deadpan back. “Don’t think you’re going to distract me, yappy dog. I’m mad at you.”

He makes a thoughtful sound of acceptance and bites down on a sensitive spot on my neck. I can’t help the moan that erupts as soon as the goosebumps start flowing down my neck.

“I want to see what you look like when you wake up inmybed, siren,” he whispers, tugging at my earlobe with his teeth.

He presses his hips into me, letting me feel the erection coming to life in his pants. His hands move from my waist to my breasts to squeeze. With the bra in the way, it doesn’t feel quite right, but he’s headed in the right direction to get me naked.

The muted touch must frustrate him as much as it does me. His hands dive under my shirt, pulling the bra away until I feel the heat of his fingers.

“Careful, or you’ll break it,” I mutter with a frown.

The feeling of the tight band isn’t quite comfortable, but his fingers roughly caressing my nipples overshadows it. They’re sensitive from yesterday when he spent an eternity sucking them. Every brush of fabric across them has been a light tease that’s kept me on a low simmer of arousal all day. The faintest reminder that his lips and tongue made them that way had me imagining him doing it again.

My ass moves over his crotch, distracting him for a second before he starts pinching and fondling my heavy breasts. His lips are more insistent on my neck at the subtle sign of my slowly crumbling moral high ground.

I wanted to stay strong and give him a good lecture. He’s worming his way out of it with devious methods.

It may work for this second, but he’s still going to get what’s coming to him.

I’m expecting him to lead me to a bedroom. Reality is so much better.

His hands fall to my hips and bite in. I’m marched to the island in the middle of the kitchen before he releases me. A hand slides into my hair and holds on with a tight grip.

“Bend over,” he snaps with a tug on my hair.

The sting of pain makes my eyes widen. What I always expected to be an immediate turn-off brings a shudder down my spine. Paired with his dark tone, it makes me weak in the knees.

I brace my hands on the countertop with shaky breaths of anticipation. He presses me down farther with his grip on my hair before his hand disappears.

He attacks the button on my jeans, yanking the fly open with a harsh sound. The rough manhandling to get them down to my thighs only amps me up higher.

All that anger has turned into hunger. I’m helpless to resist. My panties cling to me because they’ve gotten too wet to slide off easy.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his fingers playing there as my legs shake.

“Poe,” I whisper, half scared and half excited. I folded like a house of cards in a windy tunnel. What happened to my sass?

“I’m coming home, siren,” he grits back.

I sag against the counter with a moan, bracing myself on my elbows.

“That’s right. Perfect,” he mutters.

His hands brush my ass as he frees himself from his pants. I can feel how hard he’s shaking; how rough his breathing is as he struggles with it.

He braces a hand on the counter, the other lining him up with my entrance.

The first heavy thrust glides in so smoothly that I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Barely there foreplay, and I’m so wet I’m dripping.

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