Page 36 of Hostile Rival
From this angle, all I see are squashed tits and goosebumps everywhere. She blinks wildly, staring back at me, aware of my eyes all over her.
Forced restraint vibrates off every inch of her damp skin. My little firecracker is fighting a magnetic pull. We both are.
I witness every visible prickle and the slight shiver of arousal cresting over her. I know by the flush to her cheeks she’s debating something other than winning. She wants to come for me––to lose.
She stays in my arms for too many racing heartbeats, and then digs her nails into my chest, trying to get free.
Despite the typical reflexes to punish people who threaten me, I don’t want to hurt her. Not in that way, especially when my veins are molten. But I always get what I want. And right now, I wanther.
Damp brown hair whips across her face as we wrestle. Her skin rubs, the friction hot and slippery. Our intimate body parts are closer than ever.
I’m enjoying this game too much.
In one calculated, powerful maneuver, I roll her over onto her ass and straddle her hips. The back of her head settles on the cold tiles. Her chest rises and her nostrils flare as she tries to control her breathing.
“Ready to lose?” I growl, looming over her.
She bares her teeth at me. “Ready to bleed?”
For a few moments, she wriggles, pretending not to be turned on. Her hips rut into me, butting my balls and making my pulse thrum.
Her nipples are juicy, ripe, and ready to be sucked…any second.
Rather than pin her arms to the floor, my hands jump to her tits, finally able to touch her in this sexual battle of willpower.
Her back arches into me, causing a dirty little groan to escape her. Catching herself, she growls through clenched teeth, regret hitting her hard.
While I’m distracted by the feel of her soft skin, she takes the opportunity to shove me sideways, expertly scoots backward, grabs the knife and lunges at me, slashing a single line across my pec, right above where my heart is thumping.
Sitting, I look down and watch bright red blood ooze from the cut, slowly rolling south.
Bitch.
My hackles rise, but my dick is too rebellious to allow me to walk away from this. It would be easy to lose my shit and dish out a warning slap.
Except this little war of ours isn’t about respect, or the lack of it. It’s about something far more out of control.
We both want to fuck each other—even when we shouldn’t.
“I win. Now grab your stuff and move out of my room,” she demands breathlessly.
I casually sit back, my spine digging into the bed frame, and run my finger over the cut. Covered in blood, I suck it off and fix her with a hard glare. “You know I can’t let you get away with that, right, little firecracker?”
Dani growls at me. It’s a hot, snarky rumble. “Those were the rules. If you play with a sicario, you bleed.”
“There were no rules, only terms. Which means it's time for round two. If you come first, you lose. Remember? And if I come first, I’ll keep this…” I nod to the slash mark. “…a secret from my family. Unless you want to start a war?”
She blinks, understanding the gravity of her actions. Truth is, I’d never tell a soul about it, because this is between us. Just me and her.
“Go ahead. Run to your big brother.” She comes at me again, only this time I’m ready, dragging her down to my level. The knife goes flying across the room.
Angry, she claws and grapples her way on top of my lap. Her shins sit at either side of my thighs with her pussy hovering over my boner.
Sparks burn from her hands flexing around my throat. Except she doesn’t squeeze, not like she would if murder was on her mind. Then, to my surprise, she lowers her face and licks my blood, flushed and panting.
Good fucking girl.
“There. I tasted it. We’re done here.”
