My cock brushed against her stomach, and she inhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the charged silence like a blade.
“Get out of my way,” she said, her voice trembling, but there was no strength behind the words.
“Make me,” I challenged, my lips curling into a wicked smile as I leaned down, bringing my face closer to hers. God, that fucking scent of hers was like a drug.
She struggled against my chest, but I caught her wrist easily, pinning her hand back against the counter. My hips pressed into hers, harder this time, and I felt the way her body went rigid beneath mine. Chuckling darkly, I thrust against her, slow and deliberate, savoring the way her breath hitched.
“Is your pussy wet, rabbit?” I asked, my voice dropping into a low, taunting whisper. Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing crimson, and I laughed again. “Something tells me if I reached down right now, I’d find you fucking dripping for me.”
“Shut up,” she snapped, her voice shaking. But she didn’t fight me when I picked her up and put her on the counter.
“Why? Because I’m right?” I thrust against her again, grinding my cock against her hot center.
Quinn’s head fell back against the cabinet with a shaky exhale. Her chest rose and fell against mine, every breath a little faster, a little more shallow.
“You’re pathetic,” I murmured, the words harsh but laced with something darker, something I didn’t want to name. “Bet it wouldn’t take much to make you come right here, would it? You’re so desperate for someone to notice you, so eager for attention, you’d probably let me take you right on this counter. Just like this.”
Her lips parted, a faint, breathless sound escaping them as her hazel eyes flickered, dazed and unfocused. They almost looked gold under the kitchen lights. For a moment, I almost felt guilty. Almost.
But the sight of her like this—flushed, trembling, caught between anger and something she couldn’t admit—only made me want to push further. To see how far I could take her before she broke.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” I smirked, dragging my lips down the line of her jaw. Her body trembled beneath mine, her fingers clutching at the counter like she was drowning. “You probably don’t even need my fingers on that swollen clit of yours to make you cum.”
“No,” she whispered, her voice heavy with arousal. “This is wrong.”
“Is it?” I asked, my voice mocking. My hips pressed into hers again, slow and deliberate, and I felt her body stiffen. “Then why are you still here, rabbit? Why aren’t you running?”
She let out a shaky breath, her head falling back against the cabinet as I leaned closer, my lips hovering over hers.
“Say it,” I whispered. “Say you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.”
Her hazel eyes locked onto mine, wide and filled with something that looked dangerously close to surrender. But she didn’t say anything.
And then, before I could think better of it, I kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet.
It was rough and demanding, a clash of lips and teeth as I poured every ounce of frustration, anger, and desire into her.
Quinn froze at first, her body stiff against mine, but then she gave in. Her lips parted, her hands grabbing my shirt as she kissed me back with a ferocity that caught me off guard. Her tongue twisted against mine, and my cock thickened, likely leaving a wet spot on my boardshorts as it started to weep for her.
It wasn’t just her giving in. It was meeting me head-on, matching me with every thrust I made against her pussy.
The heat between us burned hotter, brighter, until it felt like I was drowning in it. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until there was nothing but her—her soft lips, her sharp breaths, the way her body pressed against mine like she couldn’t get close enough.
Victor’s voice echoed in my head, cold and cutting.
You could break her if you wanted to.
And I really, really wanted to.
But not for the reasons he thought.
Because no matter how much I hated her, no matter how much she reminded me of everything her father had done, I couldn’t stay away.
Chapter 4
Quinn