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Does It Hurt?(40)

Author:H. D. Carlton

There's an entire ocean before me that deserves my reverence, yet all I want to do is give it to her.

And nothing… nothing has made me angrier.

She snaps me out of my turmoil when she thrusts the spear into the air with a triumphant aha!

“I am a master inventor, and now I will be a master spearfisher,” she declares with a grin.

I really want to do something to her right now, but she's got me too fucked up to figure out what.

Keeping my expression blank, I watch her waddle back into the water, her tanned skin stark against the murky blue surface.

“Now to find the fish,” she murmurs to herself, a determined pinch between her brows as she chews her bottom lip.

Her eyes widening is my only warning before she sends the pointed end of the spear into the water, a battle cry echoing across the waves.

“Oh, I so fucking got you.”

Her shoulders droop when she lifts the spear and finds that she did not, in fact, get the fish.

I can't control a fraction of a smile from emerging, delighting in how her stare darkens when she glimpses it and sees how cruel it is.

She turns away, her muscles tense as she searches for a new victim.

I want to make her feel worse.

“You're going to stab your own foot before you catch a fish.”

“I've been doubted my entire life, dude. I'm capable of more than you think.”

I hum, slowly approaching her, intoxicated by the way her muscles ripple. She knows who the real predator is, and it's not the one clutching a weapon for dear life.

I press into her back, and she stiffens further. Brushing my mouth over the shell of her ear, I whisper, “I know exactly what you're capable of. But you haven't managed to escape me yet, bella ladra. You're not as good at running as you think.”

She lifts her head, her blonde curls brushing against my nose. She smells of the ocean, and I fucking hate it. It's my favorite scent, and she doesn't deserve to wear it.

“You're not as good at many things as you think you are.”

The implication is loud, and I'm happy to let her make assumptions. Truthfully, Sawyer could make me come with a single look.

Even still, I'm being honest. She's a fucking godsend when it comes to sucking my cock, but she can't lie to save her life. Now that I can look beyond the cloud of lust, I see everything she doesn't say. She thinks she's good at what she does, but really, she's only made it this far by dumb luck. And based on her circumstances, that shit has run dry.

“I will stab you. Get away from me,” she bites out, her tone colored with hurt.

“No.”

She hisses between her teeth, only I continue before she tries to prove a point that she'd really regret.

“There's something right at your feet. Let's see if you can do one thing right, aside from ruining lives.”

A strong gust of wind whips through her hair, sending the tangled curls over her face. My fist tightens, ignoring the urge to gather it in my hand and use it to hold her still while I fuck her mouth.

Whether it's because she's rising to my challenge or simply trying to ignore me, Sawyer slowly lifts the spear, immovable as she tracks the dark shadow swimming around her legs. Part of me is surprised by her ease in the ocean. There could be anything lurking beneath the surface, but she doesn't shy away as it nears.

I hope it's a jellyfish.

One moment, she's frozen. The next, she's plunging the tip of the knife into the water. And then she straightens. I can feel the victory rolling off her in waves.

Peeking over her shoulder, she cuts me a look, staring up at me beneath thick lashes, a smirk tugging up the corner of her lips.

Without looking away, she lifts the weapon, a kingfish stuck on the tip.

Dragging my gaze back to hers feels like two cars colliding head-on. The air between us thickens, and lightning races down my spine when her eyelids droop and her blue eyes heat.

“I win.”

Then, she turns and goes to walk past me, gearing up to shoulder-check me, but I'm stopping her before she even makes it an inch. My hand snaps out to the side, wrapping around her throat and causing her to stiffen once more.

“Bravissima. Now do it again.”

“Excuse you? Get your own,” she chokes out, her tone dripping with malice.

Her hand grabs my wrist, nails digging into my skin as she tries to free herself of me, but it only invigorates me. Before she can blink, I release her and pluck the dead fish off the makeshift spear.

I finally give in and fist her hair with my other hand, bringing her in close.

“We're a team now, baby. Do what you do best and kill anything unfortunate enough to come near you.” By the time I finish my sentence, my hand has moved to her jaw, my thumb swiping along her puffy bottom lip, a cut on it from when I bit her.

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