Page 28 of Hostile Cravings
He brushed his finger over my birthmark, then threaded his hand in my hair, gently this time. “I do. The first time I saw you, you were wearing this leather jumper that was so tight I could make out every curve of your tight body. I thought it was wrong for me to be that hard for a girl who was barely legal, so I made some smart remark about cheap pleather. And you walked over to me, tossing your hair over your shoulder like you owned the place and I should bow down to you. Acting like you were thirty and not eighteen. Shit, you were so hot, and then you opened your mouth.”
“I remember that,” I said, leaning toward him. “You walked in like you were the shit, like everyone should fear you, and had me enthralled. You were sexy, and I hated how you smirked at me, like I was a kid?—”
“You were. Shit, Anj, I was almost thirty.”
“You insulted me, starting the war between us, so what? So you wouldn’t touch an eighteen-year-old?”
“Exactly. I have my morals.”
I threw my head back and laughed, his fingers tracing my neckline when I did. “Not many,” I teased.
“Fuck you,” he replied playfully. “And you were quick to dish it right back to me.”
“You were an old man, a sexy old man who insulted me. I wasn’t about to let you get away with that.”
“Of course you weren’t. So you said.” He yanked me closer, and I noticed he’d grown harder while we’d been talking. “A class-climbing jackass like me wouldn’t know expensive snakeskin if a viper bit him in the ass.”
“That’s why you called me viper all those years?”
He kissed my nose, my heart stirring at his words and the move.
“That’s why, little viper.”
Running my fingers along his jaw, I saw him again for the first time, my eyes open to the man I’d hated since that day, never knowing that every time he called me viper it was a term of endearment. Never knowing that he’d wanted me that first day and kept himself from acting on it out of some chivalrous morals that I’d never given him credit for.
“Where does this leave us?” I asked, unsure where we went next.
“Stuck here in this room for at least the rest of the morning.”
I tilted my head, trying to figure out what he meant. He draped his fingers down my chest, causing goosebumps to rise. Skirting them over my nipple before rolling it between his thumb and his index finger, he said, “I plan to keep you busy the rest of the morning while I think about whether I want another man seeing this much skin on my wife.”
My heart soared through the barriers I’d placed before it, barriers built with words of animosity for too long.
“But first,” he grabbed his phone and held it behind me, “let’s send Joey a little reminder that his dick isn’t getting anywhere near you.”
His arm encircled my waist, his hand climbing into my hair and pulling my head back before he sucked my nipple into his mouth. After a few seconds of taunting it, I heard the phone fall. His other hand squeezed my ass, pushing me into his firmness. I moaned. His teeth scraped over my nipple as I held onto him, sending my head falling back against the mirror.
“That’s it, baby,” he mumbled, spreading my legs further andthrusting two fingers inside of me. “Come for me again and tell me who breaks you like no other man.”
His thumb hit my clit, rubbing it as he pushed his fingers deeper and I arched into him. His mouth was on my breast again and the sensations that were swarming through my body had me holding tight to his arms. I’d never had a man undo me this easily, whose very touch lit me on fire so that every inch of me was ablaze. I was so close to collapsing over the edge of oblivion that I could do no more than ride the wave. The sound of my moans echoed through the bathroom.
Tyson removed his fingers, and my body screamed for his touch. I brought my head up and met the glazed, hungry look in his eyes. I didn’t want him to stop. The need for him burned through me. I snagged his pants, fumbling with his belt as he eyed me, a smirk growing on his face.
“You gonna show me why men can’t keep their hands off you?”
I unzipped him and slid off the counter, but no matter that I tried not to put any pressure on my foot, I still winced.
“Damn, not now, baby. I’ll continue to show you why women can’t keep their hands off me.”
I raised a brow, tugging his pants to bring him closer and unzipping him. “Is that going to be a problem?” I asked.
He eyed me, a gleam in the hazel. “Are you claiming ownership of me, little viper?”
Shit, I was, and I wanted to scream it to the world. I pushed his pants down and perused his body as he stepped from them. Damn, he was even sexier than I’d thought he’d be without clothes. Wrapping my hand around his erection, I stroked him, seeing the lust flash in his eyes.
“Damn right I am. But we can talk about that when you’ve thoroughly fucked me, husband.”
He growled, a sound that reverberated through my body, piercing my heart and stealing it. Pushing my hands aside, hepicked me up. My legs wrapped around him, and he turned, pressing me into the wall and kissing me. The kiss whipped through me like a wind funnel, raising the embers that were burning within and lighting them so that there was no control. I greedily returned the kiss as everything but his touch and the sensation of him entering me disappeared. He penetrated me hard, my breath escaping with a cry that he stole with his kiss. My world became a cacophony of sensations that left me weakened to the core. Every thrust, every groan, every touch only intensified the feeling until I tumbled over the cliffs, my climax gutting me to the core. My scream urged him on, his body meeting mine in a rhythm that had my release climbing again until in one massive surge of pleasure I broke, bringing him with me, our bodies shuddering together, his lips devouring mine in a passionate kiss that lengthened the waves that were battering against me until there was nothing else to give and I slumped into his arms.
