ter

ma's

urs la

s piercing my brave front. This would be a lot easier if he wasn't so beautiful. Instead, he signaled toward the materials before him, urging me to contin

e, gesturing toward a set o

ly into my lower back before sliding down, settling on the curve of my ass. In the six months

y insides were liquefying. What the hell was he doing? My brain yelled at me to push his hand off, to tell him to never

breathed. My heart thumped in my chest, at least half a minute passed, but I didn't say anything as his hand moved down to my th

his hand skimming across me and sliding to my hip. I could feel the way his hand stretched from his fingertips on my lower back all the way t

es never leaving mine. He was waiting for me to stop him; there had been plenty of time for me to shove him away, or simply turn and leave. But I had too many feelings to sort

he mumbled, eyes someho

eneath the thin fabric and pulled it down slightly. I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling suddenly like I was melting from the outside in. How could I let my body react like this? I still wanted to slap him, but now, more than that, I wanted him to keep going. The heavy ache between my legs was buil

lear in his expression. In one quick movement, he tore them off, the rip of the fabric echoing in the silence. He pulled my hips roughly, lifting me up onto the cold table and spreading my legs in front of him. I gave an involuntary groan as his fingers returned, sliding between my legs and pushing into me again. I despised this man in a singularly sharp way,

tie and pulling his mouth roughly against mine. His lips felt as perfect as they looked, firm and smooth. I'd never been kissed by someone who knew every single ang

y?

loops. "You better be ready to complete what you started." He made a low, angry noise deep in his throat and