Page 38 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

Too lost in the pleasure spreading like a wildfire within me, I try to understand what he wants from me, and then I remember his question, glancing back at the couple who are so lost in each other they don’t care who watches them. This only intensifies the need rocking within me.

“No,” I reply and bite on my lower lip when his palm glides lower and lower until he grips the edge of my dress, pulling it upward and exposing my sodden lace panties covering my core.

He places his hand on me, rubbing me up and down as a moan erupts from me, and he chuckles, tickling my ear. “You’re soaked, chérie.” He slips his fingers inside my panties, and they connect with the bare and wet flesh, making me jerk as if shocked by a thousand volts of electricity. “Does the idea of being watched turn you on?”

The air hitches in my throat when his middle finger slides down my core as his thumb gently brushes over my clit before pressing on it hard, my moan rocking between us, and of their own accord, my legs close around him, trapping his hand, and he pulls me closer to him, leaving no space between us.

My common sense screams at me to push him away and escape from this madness that has heartbreak written all over it, and yet the passionate creature this man has awakened mutes it, urging me to jump over the cliff and stop resisting this temptation. “I… I don’t know,” I answer honestly instead, flicking my orbs back to the couple, and my slit dampens when the man rolls his tongue out and licks her from bottom to top as she laces her hands in his hair.

I wish to experience what she does, but I don’t want the whole world as witness to my pleasure.

But what would it be like to be so lost in all the sensations, everyone else be damned?

His grip on my waist becomes almost unbearable when he flexes his hand on me, and he goes rock-hard against me, biting my shoulder, his teeth sinking into my skin and breaking it. I welcome the sting washing over me while his finger roams over my opening, and then he delves deeper, entering me. I moan, hissing a breath through my teeth. “Remi, please,” I beg him, silently asking him to soothe the inferno burning brightly, demanding an outlet, and I rock backward, loving how he flicks my clit from side to side with his thumb. Then he’s pressing the heel of his palm into me and entering me with two fingers. “Please.”

I slap my palm on the glass, a raspy breath slipping past my lips and fogging the window in front of me, reminding me that all the people downstairs can see us should they just raise their eyes.

But in this moment, I don’t care about anything but the bliss waving at me from the horizon, and I put my hand above his wrist, pushing it harder against me, and whisper again, “Please.”

“Please, Remi, what, chérie?” his wicked and sinister voice whispers, seducing me with each softly spoken word that sends a thrill through me, promising me carnal pleasures that would know no bounds. “Fuck me? Finger me?” He sinks his fingers deeper, my pussy clenching around them at the picture he paints in my head while his erection grows bigger, letting me know his fingers are just a substitute for the real thing awaiting me.

“Yes.”

Slipping out of me, his spreads my lower lips, opening me up, and in the reflection I can see how my center glistens from desire. He glides the pads of his fingers upward, leaving tingling sensations in his wake, driving me insane with each passing second.

“No, chérie.” I whimper in distress at this, only to still when he adds, “What you need is my mouth between your legs. This pussy is begging to be licked, and I’m just the man for the job.” I gasp when he spins me around and pushes me into the glass, his palm landing on my collarbone only to slide it up, up, up until he wraps it around my throat and squeezes a little, his thumb brushing over my pulse. Instead of being scared, I sway toward him, gripping his shirt and getting lost in the intensity of his brown eyes that seem absolutely livid. “The only man.” Possessiveness and harshness lace his tone, hinting to me that this man does not like to share. “I hope you enjoyed the show, chérie, because you’ll never get such an opportunity again.”

He puts a little more pressure, and for a second, it becomes hard to breathe while he adds, “You’re mine. And I don’t share.” His thumb moves to my chin, tilting it up and exposing my neck to his hungry mouth as he kisses my pulse, my heartbeat thudding in my chest at the gentle gesture contrasting with his earlier actions. “You belong to me. Property of Remi Reyes.”

Sensations one after another travel through me, sending blazing fire into my blood and awakening every hair on my body, dumping me into the sensual ocean swallowing me whole. His words fuel the already burning desire in me, and I fist his shirt harder, holding on to him; otherwise, the blaze might erupt at any moment in a blast that would destroy us all.

Breathing heavily, I close my eyes when he nips my neck before skimming to my chin, and his teeth scrape over my skin, his tongue peeking out as he licks over the abused flesh, heat washing over me. “Remi, don’t,” I beg, fighting the inevitable, because I know without a shadow of a doubt that once he kisses me, there will be no coming back.

Even though in reality there was no turning back the minute our bodies collided on the dance floor.

“Look at me,” he orders, and I do as he says, everything in me reacting to the command in his tone that almost brings relief to my constantly working mind that knows no reprieve from my thoughts. Yet, with this man, I think I can give him all the control, and he’d know how to handle the passionate fog hazing my mind while my body hums with anticipation. My skin is so tight I feel like it could rip open at any moment. “There will be no one else from today on, because you’re mine. I own this body.”

His hand grabs my ass cheek, and he lifts me up, pushing his hard-on against my soaked core, and we share a gasp at the contact, his lips inches away from mine. “You’re in deep need of being ridden hard, chérie.”

The sensual energy floating in the air enveloping us becomes so thick with tension and anticipation I can almost see it, and scorching heat sinks into me, creating a frenzy in me at just the idea of belonging to this man.

Madness, utter madness, and yet I’m powerless to resist its tempting pull. “Remi, please.”

Lust rocks into me in waves, demanding things from me I’ve only heard about and never experienced. My nipples peek through the dress, the sensations almost too painful, because this magnetic man can get me off with his dirty words alone. “Give me your mouth, Penelope, before I lick this pussy clean.”

He swipes his tongue over my lips and then traps my lower one between his teeth, pulling at it, and my hands move to circle his neck, bringing him even closer to me, loving every sting mixed with pleasure. It places us in an invisible cocoon of lust and need, where only we exist in this universe. Carnal desires rule here, threatening to send you flying down the abyss from where there is no escape.

And worse.

Where the devil reigns and allows you to indulge in every sin known to man.

“You’ll love my tongue,” he whispers, pressing his lips to mine as we share a breath. “You’ll need it every day. It will be your personal toy. Right after my dick.”

Insane. His words are insane, for we just met, and our encounter will have no future.

My life is in France, and his in Chicago, and even if I wanted to believe in fairy tales or that dreams come true, I can’t.

So instead of dwelling on the future, I palm his head and rise on my tiptoes, connecting our mouths, craving to know what it’s like to be owned by such man.

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