Page 20 of Filthy Love

His hands held her steady, she feared she might fall over with shock, his hold was strong, fingers curled around her hip reminding her she was freaking kissing Hawk one of the most fearsome men alive. Also, her lifelong fantasy. So… no biggie at all.

It had been an impulse to kiss him.

One that could have gone either way, she’d anticipated he push her away. But to never try ... she’d swore this was the year she either dated who she wanted, or she’d give that fantasy up. And since he wasn’t going to go for it. Her only solution was to pounce and deal with the fallout.

Owned. This was what it felt like to be owned by another person.

When Hawk let go for a few seconds, when he wasn't glowering and allowing his kiss to overtake him. His large hand palming the base of her spine, urging her close, and his tongue licking the edge of her lip, she felt owned by him.

She was drunk on a cocktail of angry, hot tasting man.

Dreams didn’t taste as good as this, she thought, moaning against his lips, angling her head back to give him greater access.

Would she even measure up to the number of women he’d had already? All concern disappeared with his grunt of palpable satisfaction tearing through his chest and rumbling through hers.

He drenched her senses until Gia couldn’t think. There was no more room for thoughts.

Tongues met and retracted, rolling across each other. His was fighting hers with licks.

He ate at her mouth skilfully as though he hadn’t kissed in a month of Sundays. Whatever he was doing, it was dragging sexual groans out of her, sounds she’d never made before.

Knees trembled, her heart in free fall. It was the single most perfect, unrestrained kiss of her life and over too soon when he wrenched away, rubbing a hand over his mouth surrounded in the softest beard, his eyes pinned hers. Darkness and thunder in their depths. She noticed his shallow breathing and his eyes skimmed down to her lips she unconsciously licked.

Nostrils flared. His hand raked at his hair in two big fists full. “What the fuck are we doing?”

Butterflies went wild in her throat, set loose by the rasping intensity of his tone.

“Kissing. We should do it again right now.” Attempting to pull him forward by grasping the front of his shirt he stood rigid. Goosebumps scampered over her bare arms as she swallowed down the nerves locking up her throat.

Ohmigod, she’d really kissed Hawk. And he’d kissed her back. Every teenage hormone she’d ever had over him flared to life, setting her on fire with horny, clutching shivers.

She’d never felt so compelled to touch anyone before, now her fingers were tingling to lock behind his neck again.

“Gia. This is not…” He murmured thickly.

She crushed his mouth only for a second, to get his taste again. Lashes fell over her eyes.

Oh, god. He was delicious. Hard body. Gentle mouth. His beard tickled her face, hands landed on her hips, strong and possessive.

And over too soon again when this time he wrenched back he paced ten steps away from her, yanking at his hair again and emitting a frustrated curse.

Gia frowned. “Hawk, it’s not a big deal. We like each—”

“Stop,” he growled. “Just fucking stop. Don’t finish that sentence. Do you realize what I just fucking did? Is this why you got me here?For fucks sake, Gia. You just let a goddamn sociopath into your house. Inside your fucking mouth.” Each word dripped with scorn. Disappointment. His scowl so dark it completely washed out his entire face. “You ought to have more fucking sense than that.Shit.”

It was the last words he said before storming out. The front door rattled with force.

Leaving Gia standing in the middle of her living room wondering what the hell just happened.

CHAPTER FIVE

“It’s the lost chapter of Beauty and the Beast.” - Krusher

His torture kept throwing the hits.

As much as he believed Gia would stay away from him he forgot she was a Marinos. Stubborn fuckers all of them.

She turned up at the club several days later. His mood was shot for shit. Krusher was the only one who approached Hawk as he crept like a ghoul around the clubhouse, feeling like he was hemmed in, crawling out of his own skin.

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