Page 113 of Exiled

The air punches out of me, and I grab the first thing I can find for purchase—his ass. “What are you doing?” I say in a high-pitched voice I barely register as my own.

Swinging upside down, I have a perfect vantage point of his balls and soft cock swinging heavily between his thighs. My fingers clench around his firm ass, and I feel him suck in a breath.

“You know I can walk, right?”

He’s got one arm around the back of my thighs, and with the other, he pats my ass. “I know. Your side okay?”

“Yes,” I say, and I mean it. He’s angled me so that the pressure is on my good side. “What are we doing?” I ask as he carries me into his bathroom.

Rather than lower me to the floor, he turns toward his shower, easily bending to crank it on. From this angle, I can see our reflections in the mirror. We make quite a sight—his broad, tatted, muscled form, and my pale ass sticking out above his shoulder.

It should be ridiculous—cartoonish—but hell if I’m not addicted to our stark differences.

Straightening, he turns to look over his shoulder, meeting my straining gaze in the mirror as I try to keep my head up.

“I’m gonna get you clean,” he says, and it’s then I notice the streaks of cum drying over my ass and lower back.

My eyes widen, mouth drying.

“And then I’m gonna mess you all up again.” He smirks devilishly. “See if I can get more of those screams out of you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Turning, he lowers me, setting me down on the tile. Walking me backward, he gives me no choice but to stumble back under the still-cold spray.

I flinch, crossing my arms.

He bites his lip, cocking his head, standing just outside of the water.

We study each other for a long moment, an unspoken conversation transpiring between us, heightening the tension in the room, right along with the water temperature.

Steam billows out around me, slipping through the open door past Nolan.

I watch him from under my thick lashes, wondering what he’s thinking.

What he’s planning.

Something tells me that was just the beginning.

Something dark flares in his eyes, spiking my pulse. Blood thunders in my ears, clashing with pipes creaking, and the water raining down on me.

“You gonna come in, or just stand there?” I say, throwing his earlier words back at him.

His mouth ticks up in a knowing, devilish grin.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a warning bell blares. But I ignore it.

All that matters is the man stalking toward me.

Pouncing on me.

Owning me…

Six weeks.

I’m all his and he’s all mine for six weeks.

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