Tempt Our Fate (Sutten Mountain, #2)(47)

I attempt to suck in air, to calm myself from just having one of the best sexual experiences of my life—and she didn’t even touch me. All I did was have the chance to make her come all over my tongue, and nothing has ever destroyed me more.

She’s exceptional. And I ran away from her, leaving her completely exposed as I escaped her presence. I’ve already given her enough to make her not like me, leaving her partially naked as I ran out of her shop probably didn’t help things.

I couldn’t help it. I had to get away before I pushed every boundary and demanded even more from her. Every fiber of my being wants to fuck her, to make her mine and pull orgasm after orgasm from her until I can rewrite the beginning of our story—or at least make her forget all of the messy, heated arguments that have happened between us.

I’ve never regretted being an asshole until now. I’d do anything to switch our fate by changing our beginning. I wouldn’t be a dick when we collided at the stupid bar. I wouldn’t call her names when she ran into me. I wouldn’t have bought the gallery if I knew she wanted it for her own business.

There are so many things I’d redo if I could, but I can’t, and I hate it because no woman has ever gotten underneath my skin the way she has.

“Fuck,” I yell, slamming the door behind me. My footsteps echo off the floor as I pace around the gallery.

I bow my head, wondering how the hell I’m going to get myself out of the mess I’ve created.

I should’ve never kissed her. Going further back, I should’ve never asked for her help. Maybe if we hadn’t been pushed together by her silly idea to get me to appreciate this small town, I wouldn’t be giving in to temptation when it comes to her.

My shoulders stiffen when the front door is pushed open. A smacking sound fills the room moments before the door closes. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

I can feel her.

“Leave,” I plead, knowing my voice doesn’t sound convincing. It sounds weak and resigned.

“What the hell was that?” She seethes. I seal my eyes shut when she steps in front of me. I can’t look at her. She’s fixed her clothes—partially—but her cheeks are still flushed from the orgasm, and there are swollen marks along her neck left by my teeth.

“It was best for me to stop it before anything else happened.”

“Best for who?”

I open my eyes because I’m weak and want to get a good look at her. “Best for you,” I answer quietly. “I’m an asshole and don’t deserve to taste you the way I just did. It was perfect and you’re perfect and I’m not perfect and fuck, Pippa, why did it have to feel that way with you?”

“I’m tired of this shit, Camden,” she fumes, taking a step closer to me. Thankfully, we’re all alone here. She can yell at me all she wants. It’s what I deserve.

“And I’m not?” I counter. Of course I’m tired of it. I hate how primal I become around her. How much it turns me on to have my way with her and watch her let me.

“If you were tired of it, you wouldn’t keep running! You just gave me the best orgasm of my life—something I wouldn’t admit except for the fact I’m so freaking pissed at you, words are just tumbling from my mouth—and then you ran like I did something wrong.”

“You did everything right,” I snap, annoyed she’d ever think it had anything to do with her.

“Then fuck me.”

My head rears back in shock at her words. They were the last thing I was expecting. I was prepared for us to argue. I wasn’t prepared for her to want to continue.

“No.”

“Yes.” She takes another step closer to me, pushing her chest against mine.

I shake my head, air hissing through my teeth when her fingers skirt over my cock through my slacks. “It’s a terrible idea.” Fuck, I might come just from the smallest of touches from her—that’s the power she has over me, even though I’ve unwillingly given it to her.

“Probably. But you have to finish what you started, Camden Hunter.”

“You hate me,” I protest, trying to get a grip on the situation. I’m losing control quickly at the feeling of her knuckles brushing along my skin as she tucks her hands into my waistband.

“I’ll hate you more if you don’t fuck me right now.”

“Don’t say that,” I croak. My head falls backward when she pulls my cock free. I hadn’t even realized she’d unzipped me and pulled my boxer briefs down.

Her fingers boldly wrap around my cock. There’s a satisfied smirk on her lips as she strokes up and down. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me. Her eyelashes flutter in mock innocence. God, she’s so fucking sexy.

She’d be even sexier if she dropped to her knees and wrapped her mouth around my cock.

“Are you going to fight me on this, too?” she asks sweetly, her thumb running along my tip. I hadn’t even noticed the precum until she holds it between us, her skin glistening from the bead of arousal.

My jaw clenches when she licks it from her thumb. Now all I can picture is her swallowing every last drop of my cum as I fill her mouth with me.

“Maybe,” I groan, my arms shaking with restraint. I don’t think this is a battle I’ll win. The desire to shove my cock as far as her throat—or cunt—will allow is too intense. She was supposed to be the one to stop us. To not hunt me down and insist for me to fuck her. “All we seem to do is fight,” I add.