Page 106 of Veiled Flames
The two opposing wants churn inside me.
Still on his knees, he presses his cheek against my belly as his hands softly knead my backside. It’s not only arousing, it’s tender and touching how he’s humbling himself before me like this.
Then he looks up into my eyes.
I’m quickly captured by the dancing greens in his eyes, and my pulsing intensifies. Does he know about the trainer? Is he purposefully trying to shift it to cause more stimulation?
“I understand why you don’t trust me.” His voice breaks. “And I understand if you won’t grant me entrance to your body tonight. Just tell me there is a chance. Tell me that someday you might forgive me. Please Rose, just tell me there’s a chance you won’t hate me forever.”
I take his face in my hands. “But Tynan, Idohate you. Idespiseyou. I despise your whole family. And I despise all men who believe they can take whatever they want. Take or hurt whomever they want.”
Despair fills his eyes. “Please, Rosomon.”
Power surges inside me. “Tonight, it’s me who’ll take whatIwant.”
“What do you want?” he asks breathlessly. “I’ll grant you anything that’s mine to give.”
My heart is racing, beating out of my chest.
“Last night, you said that hate can fuel lust.”
He nods, and my hands drop from his head to his shoulders.
My mouth turns dry, and I lick my lips. I may have thought of a way to satisfy both my conflicting needs. “I do hate you Tynan, and it seems my hatred has generated a modicum of lust inside me.”
His expression fills with hope, but then quickly darkens with obvious need. Leaning forward, Tynan pulls my body toward him and presses a kiss against my belly. He kisses me so firmly it’s as if he wants to penetrate my clothing and skin with the force of his lips. Although I’m fully clothed, his mouth transfers intense heat, and his hands are like flames licking my bottom. The conflagration of fires join at my center and spread out to lick me everywhere.
“Do you mean—” One of his hands slips between my legs, and his fingers brush the leather covering my cleft.
My entire body convulses in a sharp wave, and I fight to regain my composure, my sense of control, my dignity and pride—and most of all my determination to have this happen onmyterms, not on his. He can’t justtakewhatever he wants.
“Tynan.” I grab onto his indigo curls and tug back. “You claimed your cock can be punishing. If that’s true, then prove it. Use your cock to seal my hatred toward you. Make me hate you, even more than I do now.” Casteel made me hate him. I want to hate Tynan that much too.
Forty-One
Tynan
My cock is pounding to the beat of my breaking heart.
Rosomon’s words were cruel, but it’s a start. I’ll win her over. My Rose will forgive me. Someday she’ll forgive me.
Remaining on my knees, I grip her ass and pull her tightly against me, pressing the side of my face against her belly, drowning in her heavenly scent. I could live in this position at her feet, right here, forever.
“Get on with it,” she says harshly, as if fucking is a chore she needs me to complete.
Releasing my hold on her bottom, I unclasp her breeches. I do plan to fuck her, but first I must taste her. And to better prepare her cunt for my cock, I’ll make her explode in a way I doubt Saxon ever could.
I push the older man from my thoughts. Rosomon might hate me, but she hates him too. She hated him even before hisdismissive words toward her today—some she has yet to hear. Rosomon told me she’d never let Saxon touch her again. He isn’t an obstacle. And frankly, I want Rosomon so much, I could accept her taking us both as lovers.
Right now, I’d do anything to claim Rosomon as mine.
Reaching inside her opened breeches, I slip my fingers through her well dampened folds. Proof that she wants me far more than she’s willing to admit. Under my touch, her body shudders, and her pelvis tilts in reaction. Stroking her opening with one hand, I use my other to part the hood over her nub. It’s already slick and swollen—and as bright as red roses. Closing my lips in a firm circle around it, I lick.
Unable to hide her pleasure, Rosomon bucks and gasps. She tastes even more glorious than I expected, like honey and sunshine, but I resist the urge to suck too hard on her nub. I don’t want her to reach full satisfaction too quickly.
Slowly, I stroke her most sensitive places, my finger on one and my tongue on the other. I want this to unfold slowly, to let her pleasure build so her climax will be explosive. She deserves nothing less. Nor do I.
“No.” She pushes against my shoulders. “Not like this.”
