Page 66 of Arrogant and Merciless

“Then why? Because I doubt you’d have paid so much to dine with any other woman. I can see only two possibilities: either you hate me and want revenge—which you’ve just denied—or you still desire me.”

Each bottle of this champagne costs “only” about 2,500 US dollars.

Taylor

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Desperate to findinformation about my past, I’ve done nothing but scour the internet for my name and my family’s since I regained access.

There wasn’t much on my mother—she was a housewife who died in a botched robbery—but I found a few articles about my father, since he was a police officer.

One of them praised his bravery in fighting a group of meth dealers armed with knives. I remember being shocked by the statement he gave. He said he didn’t even feel the first wound because the adrenaline was pumping so intensely through his body that he could think of nothing but closing in and doing his duty—arresting the criminals.

As I watch William approach me, the turmoil on his face like a summer storm, I perfectly understand what my father felt. It’s a mixture of that sluggish sense that you know exactly what’s about to happen, combined with a raging need to push forward—the pounding urge to throw yourself at the oncoming train, to see it through, to meet your fate head-on.

So the moment he slips an arm around my waist, yanking me against his strong frame, his other hand clutching the back of my neck, I don’t wait for our lips to meet before I part mine. I wait, trembling, for his touch, his domination.

And that’s how I confirm I was right all along. His father lied. We were never lovers. That man never touched me, because I spent a year by his side and felt nothing but discomfort in his presence.

Now, with William, I feel my entire body vibrate with longing.

“I didn’t bring you here for this,” he murmurs, inches from my lips, forcing my head to tip back.

I should push him away. Maybe Jackie’s right and William’s intentions are the worst possible. But I can’t.

Is it possible to miss what you can’t remember?

“I didn’t come here to be kissed, either,” I whisper, “but why does every drop of my blood tell me I’m exactly where I should be, William?”

He doesn’t answer. He kisses me like a starving man devouring the most delicious food. It’s a fierce, reckless caress that drives me mad, the opposite of the cool demeanor he’s displayed so far. No more wealth, no more past or grudges—just a man and a woman who want each other.

* * *

William

I muster every ounce of willpower to stop kissing her. But by the time I realize it, I already have Taylor in my arms, carrying her toward my suite. Vaguely, as I climb the stairs to the upper floor, I notice the maid entering with the champagne, but I ignore her. She retreats, disappearing from sight.

I’m one step from my bedroom when what’s left of my self-control prompts me to set her down and back away. With my hands on her shoulders, my thumbs grazing her pale skin, I force myself to give her the chance to run.

“Tell me to stop, or I’ll bury myself in you within seconds, Taylor.”

“I can’t. With all this darkness inside me, you’re the only certainty.”

Maybe she’s the world’s greatest actress, because her entire body trembles when I take a step forward and lift her thigh around my waist. The composure I pride myself on buckles under the unstoppable desire she’s always stirred in me. There’s no time for foreplay or tenderness. With one hand, I open my pants and free my rock-hard cock; with the other, I push her underwear aside and find her wetness, ready for me.

I invade both her soft, warm mouth and her slick pussy at the same time. I taste her tongue while my cock forces its way through those moist folds. I thrust once, twice, taking minimal care not to hurt her, but when she pulls me closer, her tongue surrendering to my hunger, I push in until I’ve filled her entirely with the thickness of my length.

Taylor gasps, pulling away from the kiss, biting my neck, mumbling broken words. The mixture of moans and pleasure-laced murmurs fuels my madness. Taylor has always been my poison, my undoing—but the hunger I feel for her now is infinitely stronger than anything we lived before, those times we had sex.

Two years wandering without a home, and now, inside her heat, I finally feel complete.

“Look at me, Taylor. Don’t you dare shut your eyes. Look only at me. At me alone.”

It’s as though she understands my need better than I do—she obeys. She doesn’t speak, but she lets me see what she’s feeling. Every emotion flashing across her lovely face. The hunger is excruciating. Each time I slide deeper, I want to stay there, filling her, occupying both her body and her mind. Her eyes burn with the same fever, and with every thrust, she demands more.

This raw, ravenous coupling shoots into an almost inhuman level of intensity.

She doesn’t hold back, squeezing around me, climaxing, screaming my name.

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