Page 121 of Fixation
“You’re insane,” I murmur.
Then a tear slips, sliding down his hand. Because I’m just as insane. Just as needy.
His gaze tells me that he hears me. That he sees even deeper into my soul. That my desperation is what makes him groan.
The sound is so feral that I’m gasping. My pussy clenches around him.
“You know…” His mouth presses to the spot below one of my eyes.
I moan at the feel of his tongue pushing against the mask. Of the shape of his lips on my skin, sucking my tears through the fabric.
Then his mouth is gone and indignant growl slips past my lips.
“Quiet. There’s someone out here, watching over my house.” Anderson stares me down, rubbing up against me. “He might kill you if he saw us together. If he realized how much you mean to me.”
Who the hell are we hiding from? I have to ask. He has to tell me; he can’t keep me in the dark anymore.
With the last ounce of strength in me, between moaning and gasping for air, I pull his hand down from my mouth. Less than an inch.
I’m still gasping, still moaning. “The debt?”
“Harper. Kitten.” Fuck.Fuck. He reaches this spot inside my pussy, grazing it, and my toes curl. My mind goes numb. “You cared enough to remember.”
“I remember everything.” I don’t glower like I should. Beneath his deft fingers and heated glare, I turn to putty. “Everything I’ll need to use against you.”
He huffs a low laugh, and it’s cold. Cruel. Wonderful.
And dirty. I’m dirty too, for riding his hand, for being so close to coming.
His thumb finds my clit and presses. Rubs. Forcing a painful kind of pleasure on me.
The kind that sends me over the edge.
The moment I cry out, he’s there. His eyes are mad, and he slams a hand over my mouth.
The best orgasm of my life strikes me like a whip. I shatter for him, coming against my will.
He does that while silencing my moans. My screams. Sneaking a glance to the side, his entire body on alert.
He wasn’t bluffing. Someone’s out here.
I don’t care.
Every nerve in my body has centered into my pussy, my clit, and Anderson is lighting them up. Turning me against myself over and over.
“Good girl.” He rips my panties in one tug and pockets them. Strokes me where I’m swollen and wet. Anderson cuts his intimidating gaze to my pussy, then back to my face. “Look at your cunt. Such a whore for me. Fuck. You drench my hand like such a dirty slut.”
My painful orgasm is prolonged by this sadist who makes me take it.
It’s too much. I feel everything.
And I have to take it. I’m left with no other choice.
The sound of his zipper cuts through the silence of the night. He pushes my shorts lower down my legs, toeing them down and past my sneakers.
This thing between us is wrong. No amount of lust can make it right. Nothing can fix us, not even his care. How gorgeous he is.
I. Can’t. Want. My. Kidnapper.
