My blood turns to ice as he touches my scars, tracing them. I gulp. “Dancing.”
“Don’t lie to me. Do I need to kill someone?”
I scoff. “No. I’m not lying. They’re from dancing.”
“Really?” he asks. “Why didn’t you have these before?”
I close my eyes as I feel him pull my top up more, exposing every scar and bruise.
“Fuck no, Stacey. Turn around.”
“No,” I say quietly.
“Turn. Around.”
I sigh and glance at him over my shoulder. He looks furious, brows furrowing, his eyes full of rage.
“I do silk routines now, remember? They rip at my skin.”
My phone starts buzzing, a random number popping up on my screen. I silence it as Kade grips my shoulder, pulling me back so I lie flat on the mattress. He’s so close again as he hovers above me, inspecting me. One hand is buried in the pillow beside my head; the other pulls my top up to just under my breasts, revealing a messy scar under my belly button from being dragged across the ground and cutting it on glass.
“Stop it, Kade.”
His finger glides over the dented skin. “You didn’t have any of these before.”
I yank my top down before he can see between my breasts. There’s no way I could lie about that and blame dancing.
“Leave it.”
“What about the bruises on your neck and the marks on your face? Dancing? ”
He’ll know I’m lying, so I bite my tongue before responding quietly, “No.”
His eyes flicker over my face. “Me?”
My phone begins buzzing again. “No,” I reply.
“They must be from me,” he replies, frowning deeper as he traces a bruise on my shoulder, and then one on my throat.
I shouldn’t shiver, but I do, and he notices.
The touch shouldn’t be sending me into a spiral or causing heat to gather between my legs. Yet here I am, getting wet and needy from Kade simply being near me.
My eyes widen slightly as he mimics the hold he had on my throat in the studio. “I held you like this. It was me.” He looks horrified, his eyes darkening a fraction as he takes in my appearance. “I hurt you.”
“It wasn’t you,” I whisper.
“So you fucked someone last night?” His eyes flash with something threatening. “Since when are you into getting beaten up during sex? Who was he?”
My pulse flutters beneath his thumb, and I know he can feel it. His jaw clenches as he stares down at my neck, and the need to wrap my legs around his waist is too much.
“I’m not answering those kinds of questions from you.” I can’t. All I can see is the real reason I’m battered and bruised. “Drop it.”
Kade sucks on his bottom lip, breathing through his nose. He’s still above me, and the heat radiating from him has me nearly squirming.
“I want to know who.” His voice is frightening, the mania sobering him. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out. Don’t go near him again if he’s going to do this to your body.”
A wave of anger hits me. “I can sleep with whoever I want. Just like you screw whoever you want.”
I gasp, my body coming alive as Kade lowers himself on top of me, settling between my legs and gripping my throat – but more gently than he did in the studio.
“That’s right. We can fuck whoever we want, when we want, in any position we want. And I will. Because I want nothing more than to rid the image of you grabbing my cock last night.”
Said cock is rigid between my legs, and I fight the urge to raise my hips. “Yeah?”
He nods, minty breath hitting my face. “You irritate me. You’re a poisonous snake that won’t fuck off from my mind. You’re everywhere yet nowhere. A fucking disease.”
I frown at him. “A disease? I will hit you.”
A gasp rips between us as he grinds into my pussy over our clothes. “You could try.”
I want to clench my legs around him so badly, which is strange, since he just called me a goddamn snake and a disease. My breath hitches as he rocks his hips into me once more, fighting his own urges.
“Fuck. I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
I raise my hips. “You feel like you hate me.”
He shakes his head, fisting my hair until I feel pressure on my scalp. “Who did you fuck?”
I stay silent, although my breathing has become a little heavy from how hot I’m getting, how soaked I am beneath my shorts, and the random jabs of his cock against me. “Questioning me while you’re doing that isn’t going to get you an answer. ”
I gasp as he grinds harder, the head of his cock pressing right against my entrance, and I wish my underwear would rip.
The fourth time the phone buzzes, Kade swears under his breath and shifts to lie by my side, breaking contact.
I’m going to hex whoever this is. I sit up, take a shaky breath and hide my flushed cheeks as I grab my phone. “Hello?”
“Wow,” Chris drawls and my heart sinks. “She actually answers.”
I rush to climb on top of Kade, straddling him and pressing my hand to his mouth in case he tries to speak.
“What do you want?” I attempt to discreetly turn the volume down on my phone.
But Kade notices, his brows knitting together as he studies my horrified expression.
“Where the fuck are you?”
I flinch at how pissed Chris sounds. Kade glares. Both of his hands are resting beside my knees in tight fists.
“Why aren’t you in America?”
“Complications,” is all I say, silently begging Kade to stay quiet. I press my palm to his mouth harder when he tries to break away. “I missed my flight.”
I’m not sure how I’m sounding, because all my concentration goes when I try to pin Kade more firmly, nearly flinching as I feel him rock solid right there. His hands fly to each side of my waist, gripping me when I try to get off.
He digs his fingers into my flesh, pulling me tighter into him, so the hard ridge of his cock presses into the material between my legs.
I want to rock my hips again. The need is almost robbing me of every responsible thought as Chris continues to yell .
Thank God I turned the volume down – even I can barely hear him.
The clench in Kade’s jaw tells me he feels it too. The struggle to not grind into each other. To not move and feel the pleasure we know awaits us. If I move my hips, rock them, the underside of his cock will rub against my clit again and definitely drag a moan from my throat.
My hand slips from his mouth, and I press my finger to his lips to warn him to be quiet. He doesn’t like being told what to do, but I think the fear in my eyes makes him compliant, because he’s not making himself known to the person on the phone.
His hands are so large they nearly circle my waist. His fingers move from gripping my hips to my ass, tugging me even closer.
“Rock your hips into my cock, Freckles,” he whispers quietly, and I nearly whimper. “I fucking dare you.”
Even as Chris continues ranting down the phone, we keep our eyes on each other. His darken as a string of my sanity snaps and I shift against him once.
My body sings at the sensation.
He tightens his hold to control me and moves his own hips in a way that has my lips parting. From base to tip, the length of him smooths over every sensitive area of my pussy.