Page 29 of Twins for the Enemy

When she looks back at me, she looks like she’s imagining tearing the skin off of my face.

“What is your issue?” she demands, stalking up to me. “Do you get off on being heartless? Do you think it makes you look powerful? It makes you look like someone with deep, ugly insecurities. You think that being cold-hearted makes people respect you, but it’s just pitiful.”

“Before you keep listing all of my best qualities, you may want to remember you’re under my roof,” I say. “You’re eating my food and wearing my clothes. I didn’t consider it shocking that I can decide who can and can’t be on my property.”

“You’re the one forcing me to be under your roof and eating your food!” she snaps. “As for the clothes? Fuck it, I don’t need them either.”

She yanks off the undershirt, throwing it at my face. The warmth of the material is distracting, but not as much as her nearly naked frame storming away from me.

I should respect her enough to leave her alone. I may not be a gentleman, but I’m not a soulless monster either, despite all of her beliefs to the contrary.

But her forceful steps and her threadbare underwear make her ass sway in a way that makes me much worse than a monster.

It makes me a hot-blooded man.

I catch up to her in four long strides, grabbing her arm and twisting her around. My hands on her waist. I kiss her hard. My mouth collides against hers, rough and possessive.

Her hands are raised away from me, hesitating in the air like she’s about to be arrested. I crush my mouthagainst hers, and my fingers press deep into her hips, keeping her close enough that the idea of space between us is excruciating.

When she kisses me back, her hands grabbing onto my hair, I know we’re so far off the cliff that only divine intervention could save us.

But there is no holiness here.

Chapter nine

~FARAH~

My back hits against the banister, but the pain barely registers. Every aspect of this mansion no longer exists. The only four walls are the heat between Kieran and me. The only ceiling is our exhales, building up like an oncoming storm.

My eyes flutter open as his tongue invades my mouth—fierce and demanding. His hands slide down to my ass, gripping it so tight it lifts me to my toes.

I’m higher than heaven, high enough that I know when I fall, I’ll break—but that’s a worthy price rightnow.

His hands slide down to my legs, his fingertips pressing against my inner thighs. When I widen my stance, needing to press myself closer to him, he abruptly jerks my legs up. I almost lose my balance as he lifts me to his waist, my head nearly hitting the wall before his hand on my back steadies me.

Adrenaline rushing through me, it takes me a moment to focus on his face. And it's a clash of emotions. His eyes are soft enough to be mistaken for kind, but his jaw is set with his upper lip barely curled up in the smallest snarl.

He lowers us, his knees settling on one of the lower steps. He lays me down, the edge of the stairs digging into my neck, shoulders, and back. I’m ready to sit up, annoyed at the discomfort, but his mouth quickly moves between my thighs, his hot breath sinking past the thin material of my underwear. The slickness of my arousal soaks the thin fabric. My body tenses, but the only part of me that moves is my legs widening.

He kisses the inside of my thigh, inhaling deeply, taking in my scent, sending a shiver through me. A slightflicker of his tongue sends a surge of desire through me.

The recklessness spirals inside me, and, for once, I give into it without feeling like I’m pretending to be somebody else.

The rage between us burns, adding to the desire. I’ll never let him have any part of me except this. He’ll never know anything about me except my body. And he knows it well.

The sound of my panties being ripped off is muffled by the sound of our ragged breath. Tossing my underwear aside, he catches my ankle in his hand.

He pins it down on the edge of the step. While it’s hard enough to hurt—it reminds me that we hate each other—his tongue darts inside of me, quick movements like thoughts hitting all at once. Two fingers push past my slit, an instant pressure as he stretches me. A feral growl escapes his lips, a warning of how raw this is about to get.

My hips buck off of the stair trying to get closer to his face. Quick, sharp tongue flicks to my sensitive bud has me pulling at his hair, my fingers tangled in a fierce grip. I have never experienced anything like this. All I can see is the top of his head as he licks and strokes my core. He buries himself deeper, his mouth moving with relentless, possessive control. I’m so close to the edge I can see stars. Fingers pushing in and out of me, his tongue thrashing but sensitive with each stroke up my center. Legs quivering, I’m thankful that I’m sitting as the most earth-shattering orgasm rocks me, my screams echoing in the empty foyer of the mansion.

He looks up at me, desire burning so hot in his eyes, it feels like a mutual torture. I need to recover, but I know there’s no time.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says, but before his words can linger, he rises over me. His pants are pulled down, and his size is overwhelming in every sense. Lifting me in a swift movement, I’m pushed against the wall, a moment of shock before he’s thrust himself fully inside me.

My fingernails dig into his arm. I pull myself up, meeting his thrusts, even as I can feel a line of bruises forming against the small of my back—a lingering punishment from the stairs. As he rams into me, possessed as I am, I understand what he means. There are some lines you can’t cross, and we’re moving so far past it, the only thing left is to regret it. But not now. Not when I’m so close to breaking through a numbness I hadn’t known I was feeling.

He grips both of my thighs, pinning me against the wall like I weigh nothing. Every thrust is hard and deep, but maddeningly controlled—each one driving more breath from my lungs. I can feel the fury and need behind every stroke, like he's punishing everything that ever existed between us.

---