Page 107 of Heroes & Hitmen
“Tell me you didn’t,” he growls. His voice isn’t raised, but it hums through my bones, low and dangerous.
“I…” My lips part, but no other words come. My heart kicks against my ribs and the air between us suddenly feels like it’s pulsing with dark promise.
He leans in, breath hot against my ear. “You like it when I claim you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the skin just beneath my jaw. “When I make it clear you’remine.”
I want to deny it; want to laugh and roll my eyes and make a joke about how this is all fake and he doesn’t get to say that. But the lie won’t come, and my whole body trembles with the truth of it.
He noses along my jaw, inhaling deeply. “Admit it.”
I snap– not out of anger, but because I can’t hold it in anymore. “Fine, asshole,” I huff, bucking my hips in a feeble attempt to wriggle free of him. “I liked it.”
His grin is all hunger and wicked heat. “Good girl.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I hate how easily I respond to them, how quickly my knees go weak.
I grab onto his neck, fingers digging into his flesh to keep myself from sinking to the floor, and he captures my mouth in a kiss that’s more collision than contact– wild and messy, both too much and not nearly enough. His hands are everywhere– running up the back of my dress, skating over my ribs, squeezing my ass so hard I gasp.
He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, carrying me into the bedroom and tossing me onto the mattress with a controlled force that makes the bedframe creak. I scramble up onto my elbows, hair tumbling loose from its pins and falling around my face. Ares stands at the foot of the bed, eyes dark, chest heaving with barely leashed restraint.
He shrugs off his navy suit jacket and yanks the bowtie free, the movement almost violent. His shirt comes off next– button by button, slow and deliberate, his gaze locked on mine.
“Take off the dress,” he murmurs.
I arch a brow. “Bossy.”
He drops his shirt to the floor, and the sight of his bare, muscular chest steals the rest of my oxygen.
“Now, sweetheart,” he commands, tipping his head. “Or I’ll rip it off you.”
The feral look in his eyes says it’s not an empty threat.
I reach behind my back, fingers fumbling to pull the zipper down. The silky straps slide off my shoulders, the top half of the dress pooling around my hips. A bra didn’t work with the gown, and Ares’ gaze turns molten at the sight of my bare breasts.
“Fuck, Miley,” he growls, voice rough. His gaze scrapes over every inch of my skin, and it’s not just desire I see in his eyes– it’s reverence. Like I’ve ruined him. “You trying to kill me?”
“Maybe,” I reply on a shaky breath.
He kicks off his pants and boxers, climbing onto the bed with the controlled precision of a predator. Every muscle in my body tenses with anticipation as he guides me to lie back and tugs my dress the rest of the way off. Then his hands slide up my thighs, fingers hooking in the waistband of my panties and easing themdown my legs. He tosses them over his shoulder with a wolfish grin before spreading my thighs and settling between them, mouth hot on my inner thigh.
“Ares,” I pant, back arching, fingers sinking into his hair.
He teases me for what feels like forever, nipping and licking my inner thighs, working me up until I’m shaking with need. When he finally slides his tongue over my clit, I cry out, fingers tightening in his hair to anchor myself. He works me with ruthless precision, bringing me right to the edge over and over until I’m writhing, half crying, too lost to even be embarrassed by the noises I’m making.
His hands grip my hips, anchoring me to the bed as if I’d have any chance of escaping him. With each sweep of his tongue, my vision goes a little more white at the edges until I’m tumbling over the edge of bliss. I gasp and moan, riding every wave, letting myself be ruined by this man because it’s the only thing left to do. This may have started as a lie, but I’m so thoroughlyhisat this point that I barely remember who I was before Ares Raines crashed into my life.
My eyes flutter open to meet his, a proud smile curving his glistening lips. I’m boneless, strung out, desperate for something I can’t name. I reach for him, trying to distract my mind from the onslaught of emotions by hauling him up for a kiss, but he hesitates, brow furrowing as he studies my face.
“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand.
Dammit, he can always see right through me, and his question cracks me wide open.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head. And then, “Everything.” My voice comes out too hoarse, too broken. “I just… leaving… I can’t…”
He’s on me in an instant, crowding into my space with his chest pressed against mine and his hands bracketing my face. “Youcan,” he says firmly, dark eyes burning with intensity. “And youwill.”
My hands tremble as I press my palms to his chest. “You don’t understand,” I whisper. “I’m scared, Ares.”
His expression softens, thumb tracing my cheekbone. “Of what?”
