Page 51 of Wanting What's Wrong

I run my fingers over the close-cropped hair of his sideburns. “You looked like you were going to kill Luke.”

His body tightens, his grip on my body becomes more possessive. He nods into my throat. “They think you’re my sister. But you’re not.”

“Then what am I?”

He shakes his head, scraping me lightly with his stubble. “You’re my whole world.”

My eyes adjust to the darkness little by little. His muscles. His veins. His power. He deliberately, slowly undresses himself in front of me. No pretense. No rush. The moonlight comes through the windows, casting long silvery blades on his layers of muscle, and on a glistening droplet of cum shimmering from the cleaved slit on the top of his engorged cock.

“Are you always hard?” I ask him, sounding young and naïve even to myself as he gets to work on my dress.

“For you, I always will be.” He grabs my arms, pinning them behind my back and pulling me close up against his naked chest.

With his other hand, he slips off the strap that Luke touched earlier. And I know it’s deliberate, touching me the same way. And I like that. So much.

“You knew this dress would drive me wild, didn’t you?”

I feel my cheeks tighten into a dimple. “Yeah.”

“How the fuck do you know how to drive me so crazy?”

“Because I’ve known you a long time. And I’ve been watching you, same as you’ve been watching me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“It was all I could do not to stand up from dinner and go jerk off in the bathroom.”

“Maybe you should have.”

He shakes his head; I feel it even though I can’t see it. “Starting last night, all my cum goes inside you. Pussy, mouth, ass. Or,onyou. It looks particularly fetching on your tits. Which, I still need to fuck, but I digress. I’m not shooting off except on your or in you. No fucking exceptions.”

My body shivers as the thought. “Always?”

“Fucking always.” He breaths hard, jagged, savagely, his cock nudging my hip as he presses his body into mine.

Now with his other hand, he cups my pussy again, and parts my folds with his first two fingers.

He makes me turn my head to face him and kisses me, deep and long. I feel myself swept away once more. He growls into the kiss as he finds my pooling wetness, my pussy already slippery and ready for him—for us.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again, you hear?” His voice is stern now. Nearly angry. He grips my wrists tight together behind me, like I’m cuffed. Like I’m his prisoner.

I crane my neck to look up at him. “What did I do?”

“You tried to stop me. Tried to stop me from fucking him up for touching you. That’s not your fucking job, baby girl. Not anymore. You’re mine. I protect what’s mine. And it’s my call how fucking far I take that.”

“You’d have killed him, Trent. Your own friend.”

His eyes get harder, meaner. “You think I wouldn’t kill for you?”

God help me. “I know you would.”

“Don’t fucking test me again. I trust you, baby, but I don’t trust myself or other dudes. So putting yourself out there to be touched or looked at in the wrong way by some other XY is putting them in danger. Not fair to them, but fairness isn’t my problem. You are. So, be a good girl, save a life.”

Our mouths come together again, fast and greedy. Our tongues know each other now and slip quickly and frantically against one another, dancing the most forbidden dance that is now becoming frighteningly familiar.

Using his middle finger, he teases my clit and I rock backwards, hanging onto him. His finger swoops around my clit, diving deep to spin into my wet opening, then gently rubbing back and forth.

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