Page 73 of Hostile Secret
I gasp when his mouth lands on mine and his hard dick prods my belly. His kiss captures my exhale and whips up the sparks of awe I have for him, turning them into ferocious flames that scorch my skin.
“Want to know a secret?” he groans into my mouth. I nod my head, the only response I’m capable of right now. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day.”
The hand around my neck dives into my hair and tilts my head back so my throat is completely exposed. His teeth graze a shivery path along the curve of it before returning to my lips where he leisurely tongue fucks my mouth.
I’m panting when his other hand fists the silk pajama top I’m wearing and ruthlessly tugs. Buttons pop and my nipples brush his hot skin.
The grunt leaving his throat would terrify any right-minded woman. Except I’m not just any woman. I’m India Hardy, daughter of a convicted criminal and sister to a former ruthless cartel associate.
My bones are made of titanium and my mind is forged from nightmares.
He breaks our kiss and stares down at our connected flesh. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Gio…” I reach for the thick hair on top of his head and curl my fingers through the dark lengths. “Show me how to be your little whore again.”
When I hear my plea, shame clashes with the twisted hunger I have for this guy. He’s twelve years older than me and we don't have a future together. Yet the smell of him is an aphrodisiac and the way he owns my body ismyweakness.
His mouth violently covers mine, smothering my whimper. In a blur of hands and rough movements, he peels my top off and drags my shorts to my ankles.
Standing naked before him, I accept that I’d let this man do whatever he wants to me. He's the only one who makes me feel this blood-rich, brazen craziness. I fully accept the immature boys at school couldn’t command my body like he does, and as scary as that fact is, it's the truth. Giovanni is the only man who can set me free.
“You’re already my little whore.” His firm touch is all over me.
Fingertips dig into my ass, knead my breasts, and control the closeness of our bodies.
I grapple with the elastic waistband of his joggers, yanking them lower to free his dick.
“Gio...” I breathe into his mouth, panting for oxygen. “Are you teasing me?”
His body crowds me against rows of books and his boner sits heavily between us. There’s no escaping this man. Not even if I wanted to, because a mounting arousal grows wetter the more he deepens our kiss and claims my mouth.
“You were a good girl today. That deserves a reward.”
“Are we going to…” I trail off when he bites my nipple, and an electric shock stuns me. “I want––” He grabs the base of his dick and rubs it along my slick folds.
I’m going to internally combust if he doesn’t fill me with it soon.
“Say it,” he grunts into my ear. “Let me hear my dirty little whore beg for my dick.”
My heart rate accelerates. “I really want this—I do––but there’s six more days left.”
His forehead butts into mine. Our noses press into each other, and our fast breaths force our chests to collide.
“I need to feel you on my dick tonight,” he growls. An animalistic rumble escapes his throat and vibrates right through me. I moan from the sheer power of it. “We’ll give you a taste of things to come. I want you ready for next week––because I won’t hold back.”
I’m on fire when he kicks my legs wide at the ankles and slaps my abdomen with the tip of his dick. “I’ll pull out once I’ve stretched your pretty cunt. Okay?”
“Yes…” I whimper, needing him inside of me so much it hurts.
My body uncontrollably trembles for the one thing that's consumed my thoughts this past week.
Him.
He slides a finger into my pussy, and I cry out, so grateful for the way it offers me temporary satisfaction. But it's not nearly enough. I loudly moan his name, knowing the only people who can hear me are the fictional characters in the books digging into my spine.
Instinctively knowing what I need, he angles his wrist and adds a second finger, immediately turning me into a hot mess with no way of ever escaping the memories we’re creating.
We don’t need to document words or inscribe scenes into novels when every second I spend with him is ingrained in my soul for eternity.
