Page 108 of Triggered By Love
“That, too.”
“Are you afraid of me?” She lowered herself so that her face hovered over his. From this close vantage point, she could bathe herself in his musky morning scent.
“A little.” He sounded reluctant to admit it.
She bit his lower lip. Hard.
“Yeoch! Okay, I’m scared stiff.” He jutted his rod of iron up between her legs. “All joking aside, you are a frightening sight.”
“That’s not flattering.”
“No, but it’s true. Your hair’s wild. Your teeth are sharp.”
She reached over at her nightstand and unsheathed a hunting knife. Twirling it around, she dragged the sharp point over his throat, not quite touching his skin.
His breath caught, and sweat popped over his brow. “Now, you’re crazy. I would have never guessed.”
“You underestimated me, Jason Burnett.” She lifted the blade over his face. “I’m not a sadist.”
“Could have fooled me.”
She let a faint smile slide over her face. “Are you afraid of me?”
This time, his Adam’s apple bobbled and he grimaced. “I’m more afraid of triggering you and setting you off.”
“What do you think will trigger me?” She twirled the blade, staring at the wicked serrated edge.
“Love. True love.” His voice was guttural and rough. “A man who’d go to hell with you and bring you back. A man who’d sleep in your arms with that knife held above his heart.”
Oh, how little did he know. He thought himself so noble and brave, but would he truly taste her hell and stick around?
Brando had denied it ever happened. Made her swear to leave it all behind. He would have bought her the ticket to heaven with his ring. The white picket fence, the white clapboard house, the white minivan, and the pretty brood of children.
Look how well that ended.
She tasted bitter bile and slapped the knife on the surface of the nightstand. Her fingernails clawed at both his cheeks, and she drilled her tongue into his mouth.
He bit her. Hard, and the pain shot fire straight to her pussy. He was fearless, and he was taunting her with a love fierce enough to burn in the depths of her hell.
“Prove it, Burnett.” She grappled with him, kissing and biting him hard, her tongue fighting his, and the heat between her legs grinding over his hot rod.
His body jerked and tensed, and his big shoulders strained against the silk tie. She was sure he could break the bonds if he chose, but instead, he gripped her headboard, keeping his hands out of reach.
He freaking trusted her. And so she took—gobs and gobs of man, all of it. She rubbed herself over his muscular body. She stripped herself. Flung off her bra and plastered her breasts over his mouth. She let him lave and suck and rub his scratchy whiskers over her soft globes until they were red and raw, scratched and hot.
She stripped him, opening his shirt and pressed herself, skin against heated skin over his chest. She licked and kissed his saltiness, teased his nipples and nestled her face in the patch of soft chest hair. She inhaled his scent and lathered herself in his breath, his heat, and his sweat.
She didn’t need drugs to awaken every nerve ending, to fuel and stimulate her desire. Lust washed over her as she feasted and handled the muscles, the washboard abs, the trail of hair below his belly button, leading to that huge piece he carried.
“Concealed no more.” She lifted herself and unzipped him. “So big and heavy. Think I can hold it steady and hit the target?”
She remembered how he’d shot his target through the heart, multiple times, and how hard it was for her to grip her handgun. Thankfully, she had no trouble with Jason’s glistening cock.
Avery wanted to ride him. Take her pleasure without concern for him. Use him like the sex slave she’d always wished to dominate.
His eyes were watchful, so she gave him a show.
Rising up, she stood up on the bed over him and shimmied out of her jeans, turning and twisting so he’d get a view of her front and back.
