Page 16 of The Mistakes You Make
“Do you ever do what the fuck you’re told?” he spits, but his anger has been replaced by lust as he tears at the fabric around his waist and pushing it low enough to pull his cock out.
Fuck.
My eyes lock on where he holds himself. My mouth going dry.
Fuck.
“You. Ruin. Everything,” he spits again as he lines himself up with my entrance and surges into me in one swift move.
“Holy—” I gasp, my words vanishing when he pulls out and immediately slams back in without giving me even a second to adjust.
But that’sjust the way Kane is. He always has been.
He takes what he wants and fuck the consequences.
Another reason why I’m amazed we haven’t ended up in this position before. Hell knows we’ve come close.
“Fuck, Princess. Who knew the devil felt so good.”
His fingers dig into my hips as he crashes our bodies together as if he’s trying to get even deeper.
His grip hurts and I already know I’m going to be sporting the evidence of this mistake for days to come.
Just what I need. A reminder when I’m sober and of sound mind.
My back slides through the mud, making the mess worse.
“So fucking tight,” he breathes, but I think he’s talking to himself more than anything else.
His eyes continue to hold mine as we move together in sync. It’s as if he’s trying to brand himself on my soul as well as on my body.
I bite on the inside of my cheeks to refrain from assuring him that it’s not necessary. He’s been in my head for years. Forever.
Along with my family, he’s been the other constant thing in my life. I could always rely on him showing up at exactly the wrong time and making my life hell, reminding me why I hate him so much.
If he wasn’t taunting me in class for being a nerd, he was starting rumors about me being frigid, and when that didn’t work, he started on the ‘Scarlett is a slut’ angle.
None of it worked. Well, not that I allowed anyone to see.
Being alone in my bedroom at night reliving it was another matter entirely. But I was young, naïve, and easily played.
I’m older now. Wiser.
Strong enough to take on Kane fucking Legend and win.
“Oh fuck,” I cry, my thoughts falling away as he leans over me, changing the angle.
His forearm lands in the mud beside my head, dirty water splashing over my face as his lips lower to mine.
“You have any idea how long I’ve imagined what this might be like?”
I keep my lips shut. Mainly because I know my answer would be, “as long as I have,” and I can’t allow him to think he’s taken up any of my thoughts over the years.
He’s the bad boy. The one mothers warn their daughters to stay away from.
But I’m like a moth to a fucking flame and fuck it if I get burned.
His lips claim mine in a savage, bruising kiss.
