My collateral is certainly worth more to him this time around.
With an exasperated sigh, I release Samuel and swipe the pistol off the floor, aiming it directly at his forehead. His face screws up and then come the tears.
Blimey, those tears.
I’m tempted to close my eyes for a moment and let them sink in. Tempted to lick them off his face and see if they taste as good as they sound.
But I don’t. That would be ridiculous.
“Bro, what the fuck?” he wails, thrashing against his cuffs all over again. “I told you what you wanted to know. Let me go!”
“Unfortunately, I’m not a fan of your answer. Do make sure to plead your case again, though. God might be more lenient on your poor, wretched soul.”
Pop.
“How come you don’t sleep in the bed with me?”
Lifting my head from the Chinese take-out menu in front of me, I find Lenny standing in the doorway to the guest bedroom. Her hair is wrapped up in a terry cloth towel, and she’s clad in nothing but a white satin robe that makes her sun-kissed skin seem even brighter than normal.
Sitting up on the futon, I have to forcibly remove my gaze from the curve of her thighs, exposed just enough that I’m tempted to go over and unveil them completely.
“Believe me when I say it’s better for the both of us that I have my own space.”
Lenny leans against the doorframe. “Are you a cover hog, or something? Secretly hiding a tail?”
“No.”
“Then… I don’t get why you’re in here when there’s a perfectly good bed across the hall.” Picking at the edge of her robe, she looks down at the flood. “Do you not want to sleep with me?”
My cock jerks to life. “Do I want to sleep with you, or do I want to sleep with you? Those are very different questions, and the answer varies based on my mood.”
“Your mood?”
“Certainly.”
Tossing the menu to the floor, I get to my feet and slowly approach her. The pulse at the base of her throat flutters, and I imagine what it might feel like beating beneath my palm. Battering against her skin and my hold with the will to live, struggling for air as she comes violently on my cock.
“For example,” I say, not stopping until our bodies are flush, and I turn hers into the frame, pressing her back into it. “If I’ve had a good, but tiring day, perhaps I’d be inclined to climb under the covers with you and behave. Maybe we could cuddle, maybe there’d be some light petting. But mostly, we’d sleep.”
Bringing my hand up her side, I skim over the soft curves of her hips, the concave shape of her abdomen, and over her shoulders. My hand comes to her throat, fingers spreading, wrapping, as I feel that pulse against my palm.
“What if…” She trails off, her gaze dipping to my mouth for a moment, before immediately snapping back. “What if you’re in a bad mood?”
Tracing the seam of her mouth with my free hand, I pluck at her plush bottom lip, a smirk tugging at my features. She swallows, the sound rumbling in my chest, and I move forward so she can feel the evidence herself.
I catalog her every inhalation, her every twitch and facial expression, gauging at what point I cross a line.
Part of me expects her to be less open. For her to crack under the pressure and shove me away. Maybe this time she’d actually manage to stab me.
Clearing my throat, I trail my fingers from her throat to collarbone, slipping my thumb under one side of the robe. “If I joined you while in a bad mood, I’d probably try to exorcise some demons on you. Tie you to the bed you’ve begged me to be in, fuck you until you pass out.”
“You’d tie me up?”
Curiosity gleams in her green gaze, and I chuckle, my cock lengthening considerably. “Like a bloody Christmas present. And I’d take my time unwrapping you. Run my fingers over every glorious inch of your skin, then add my tongue to the mix, because how could I stand not to taste my sweet, deviant little gift?”
A Trojan horse, if ever there was one.
If this was Tom’s way of getting inside my head, of making me lose the plot concerning my father and the revenge he deserves…
It’s working.
Fuck me, is it.
Lenny sucks in a breath as I reach into her robe, letting it fall open enough for me to thumb her nipple, eliciting a tiny sound from her throat that I want to consume.
In truth, I want to devour her. Eat her alive, swallow her whole, leaving her body too broken and bruised and satiated from me that she doesn’t ever move on, even long after our little arrangement is over.
“Why don’t you show me?”
31
“That’s a dangerous invitation, love.”
His fingers are cool as they sweep over my warm flesh, teasing my nipple with the ghost of his touch. The wooden doorframe digs into my spine as he shifts forward, pinning me to it, but I don’t even care right now.
“I know,” I say in a thick voice, sliding shaky hands up his chest, toying with the curled ends of his dark hair at the nape of his neck. “That’s why I said it.”
Removing himself from my robe, he gently tugs the tie loose, letting the smooth material fall open.
Exposing me to him.
A shiver skates down my spine. My lungs constrict, like they’re being crushed by a concrete block. Violet eyes darken as they drop, raking over me with a liquid heat I feel all the way to my toes.
Calloused fingers brush my hips, grazing without fully engaging. Leaving me desperate for more.
They slide inward, and my stomach spasms as he passes over my belly button, inching down. My jaw drops, mouth popping open, when I feel him glide between my thighs, tracing my seam with two digits.
“Perhaps we should eat first.” His voice is hoarse, his breath hot as it fans over my face.
“Okay.” Shaking my head, I start to pull away from him, glancing over at the take-out menu he dropped earlier. “Are you in the mood for Chinese, or—”
Gripping my chin, he jerks my face back to his, crushing our mouths together in an aggressive kiss that threatens to tear my soul in two. Our teeth clash, and he pushes his tongue past my lips, tangling and seeking and warring.
Every kiss with this man feels like a battle of wills and sanity. Like we’re fighting attraction with violence and trying to see who comes out the victor.
As I sink into it, into him, I doubt it’ll be me.
Jonas tears his mouth away, only to reattach himself to my throat. With one hand, he cranes my neck to the side, granting him better access to my pulse. His teeth nick and scrape on their descent, alternating between sudden bursts of pain and soft, fluid expressions of it.
A small moan escapes me as he crests my collarbone, dragging his tongue along the length of my sternum.
I don’t know if it’s supposed to hurt, and part of me keeps waiting for it to get worse. For the pinpricks of discomfort to morph into agony, and for panic to set in my bones.
Pain isn’t the only thing I’ve ever known, it’s just all I can remember.
When Jonas drops to his knees, squeezing the outsides of my thighs in his large palms, I frown. He hooks a hand beneath my left knee, bending upward so I’m partially open for his perusal.
Invisible flames rain down my back, fire consuming every one of my nerve endings.