Page 60 of Arranged Obsession
“Very.” I shift slightly, sitting up so his hands move further down. I lean my head back, eyes closed. “Lower, please,” I whisper softly.
He hesitates, but only a moment. His hands move down my arms then down my chest, cupping my bare breasts. “Like that?”
“Just like that.” I lick my lips. Something is straight up the matter with me. But the man is a genius with those hands. “You don’t have to stop.”
“Do you want me to keep going?” he whispers. His lips press to my neck. He smells like himself, that gorgeous spicy delicious I’ve deeply fallen for, but with an undertone of copper blood.
“Yes, please.”
He kisses me lightly. I let out a soft sigh. One hand remains on my left breast while the other moves down into the water, grazing along my belly button, over my hip bone, down to my inner thigh, slowly toward my slit.
I’m buzzing for him. I think about the night before. The way he made me feel. And maybe he’s right, maybe the only way to banish the bad feelings is to replace them with good ones.
Or maybe I’m so fucked by trauma that I can’t think straight.
He doesn’t stop either way. His fingers slide along my lips before sinking into my pussy.
Oh my God, that feels so good. I let out a little whimper of pleasure as he slowly slides his fingers in and out, in and out, teasing my clit, back inside again. I spread my legs wider, letting him go deeper.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispers, kissing me from behind. “I’ll protect you, Bianca. I’ll always be there to protect you.”
I see him stabbing over and over. I see blood pouring from a man’s slit-open throat.“Faster,” I moan, the water swishing as his fingers glide in and out. “Now, please, go faster.”
He obeys, fingers hammering into me. I gasp, back arching, eyes rolling back. His other hand wraps around my throat to keep me in place as his fingers fuck my pussy deeper, harder, palm grinding into me, and I’m so broken, so ruined, and I don’t care anymore. His lips taste like hell and his fingers feel like everything I should hate.
All I want is more.
“Harder,” I beg angrily, reaching back to pull his hair. “Make me come, Cormac.”
His fingers do their filthy work, filling me, grinding into me, and I’m so raw it doesn’t take very long until I’m melting down. The explosion is a whole new heaven as I come on his hand, moaning and moaning until he buries my mouth in a blistering kiss.
I gasp, breathless, airless, floating on the water. He slowly pulls his hand from my pussy and grazes his fingers up along my body. I blink rapidly, trying to think straight. A lazy smile spreads across my face.
“I should get nearly killed more often,” I mutter sleepily.
“Let’s not go that far.” His lips are right next to my ear. “We don’t need murder to make you come, my feather.”
“What does that nickname mean?” I say, turning to him. I kiss the corner of his mouth, not sure why I even do it.
“You’re light. I’m heavy.” He cups my chin with one hand. “You’re a saint. I’m a sinner.”
“I’m a goddess and you’re, what?”
“A demon.”
“I guess this marriage is all sorts of wrong.”
He breathes in deep, smelling me. “You have no idea how right you are.”
Chapter 19
Cormac
My father sits behind his desk as smoke from a cigar rolls into the air around him. I struggle to maintain my composure. Anger flits into my guts, but murdering family members has never been my style.
Strangers? Sure, kill away.
But even when my father disappoints me and my brothers piss me off, I still manage to refrain from strangling them to death.
