Page 31 of Waging War
His smile spreads across my skin. “You enjoyed that.”
Not a question, and not wrong.
“No,” I say, but I’m tilting my head back, inviting more bites as I grind against him. There are too many layers between us, and I need the searing heat of his skin against mine.
“Mm, you’re a filthy liar.” Ben holds me against him with one hand splayed across my ass as the other winds its way into my hair. “Are you going to lie to me again, Hazel?”
The hairs on my arms stand on end. This is so very wrong but delightfully wicked.
“Yes,” I gasp, unsure what game we’re playing, but unwilling to douse this raging inferno.
He pulls my hair, and I yelp, savoring the sting at my scalp. A low rumble vibrates his chest. “I’ll have to show you what I do to liars.”
My feet hit the ground before I’m ready, and I wobble.
“Undress, and bend over the couch.” Ben’s blues are utterly starved, his voice gravelly.
“Excuse me?” I ask on the tail end of a nervous laugh.
“You heard me, Hazel.”
That smirk. That swagger.
Make me,my gaze conveys from where I stand.
I intend to,his eyes respond.
“Take your clothes off first, then I’ll consider your request.”
His pupils explode almost immediately, and I squirm at the sudden shift. If he thought I’d back down from his challenge, he’s sorely mistaken.
The air becomes charged with tiny particles of static when he peels his shirt off and pops open the snap on his still-wet jeans. I watch him with twitching fingers as he slides the denim down his thick, muscled thighs before stepping out of them.
The same dark hair that lightly dusts his pecs is sprinkled over his legs, but there’s not so much that he looks like a beast.
No, Ben looks like aman.
He flicks his heated gaze down my body before turning up a brow.
I yank my eyes away from his straining erection and trail the tips of my fingers across my skin. When I reach the hem of my damp shorts, I look the enforcer directly in the eye before sliding them all the way down.
“You’re not so scary with a hard-on,” I goad.
Ben’s lips twitch, but he does nothing to hide the full length of himself. His shameless pride has me fidgeting and my cheek stinging from how hard I’m biting it.
“You think I’m scary?” he asks.
I reach for the bottom of my shirt and shirk it over my head. Ben’s taken advantage of that second of blindness by crossing the space between us. The only stich of clothing separating us is my lacy purple thong—another torturous request for the man who was tending to me before.
His nostrils flare at the sight of my bare breasts and already hardening nipples craving his attention.
“Let me show you how terrifying I can be.”
I’m not given a chance to respond as his lips slam against mine. This time, there’s no exploring, only conquering.
I moan into his mouth. “This changes nothing.”
“Agreed,” he murmurs as one large hand finds my breast. He doesn’t waste time caressing or fondling it but roughly kneads my flesh in his palm instead. I cry out when he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
