Page 67 of Poisoned Promise
“Try it,” I challenge her. “If you think you can.”
With that, I release her wrist. Dove’s beautiful face twists with anger and she launches herself at me but rather than the blow I brace for, she collides with me chest to chest, her hands raking into my hair and her mouth covering mine once more.
We kiss like we’re fighting; teeth catching on lips, tongues battling for control, her hands pulling hard at my hair while I embrace her tightly. She’s too drunk for me to do what my core screams at me to do and the last thing I want is for her to wake up in the morning with hatred and regret in her heart.
But she’s not getting away with this.
Each jerk of her hand in my hair pulls me away from the desk and we stumble together, her lack of balance making it even harder for me to work out where she’s trying to go.
Giving her control for a few minutes, I end up with enticing pain trickling down the back of my neck as she tugs on my hair, then a trail of fire from her nails scratching down the side of my neck.
“Ahhh-!” Our kiss breaks as I reflexively jerk away from the pain, then we crash back together in another battle of teeth and tongue.
We stumble back to the wall and Dove grunts when she hits it, then she curves her body into mine.
A sweet, soft moan drifts past her lips and into my mouth.
“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” I murmur against her lips, then I catch the swell of her lower lip between my teeth and tug until the elasticity of her skin forces it to slip from my teeth and spring back.
“Me?” Dove gasps, panting harshly. “What about you?”
“I’m not an asshole,” I gasp, catching her chin between my fingers and forcing her to look at me. “I’m the devil.”
Anything else she has to say ends in a cry as I shove my other hand under her skirt, past her panties and directly inside her. She jolts upward, her eyes widening and both her hands drop to claw at my shoulders.
“Holy shit, you’ve fucking soaked. Not much changes, huh?” I pant against her. “Adrenaline still gets you off?”
“Fuck you,” she slurs slightly, leaning in for a kiss but I use my grip on her chin to prevent it. She slides one hand back up into my hair and pulls hard enough to force my head back, then she surges forward and sinks her teeth hard into my neck.
One finger inside her hot, slick pussy becomes two and I pump them back and forth as quickly as I can from this angle.
Dove quakes against me and bites harder into my neck, then she lifts away and bites into my shoulder instead.
Pain blooms between the two throbbing spots and desire surges south, pooling low in my gut until my cock strains against my pants. Any other day, I’d throw her down and fuck her.
Soon.
“You bastard,” Dove cries out as two fingers quickly become three. She wobbles from side to side, gasping and moaning while tugging at my shirt and leaving a trail of bites all over my shoulder. “Fingers all you got, huh? Can’t even get it up?”
“You drank too much,” I reply with a gasp, grabbing her chin and wrenching her head back in place against the wall. “Next time you wanna fuck me, don’t down half a bottle of top-shelf Scotch.”
“I don’t wanna fuck you,” she snarls at me, teeth clacking and cheeks flushed red. “I’d barely feel it.”
I snort, amused. “Oh really?”
Pressing my three fingers as deep into her core as I can reach, I flatten my palm against her pussy and use that as a hold to pull her up the wall. Dove’s eyes widen tenfold and she yelps in surprise as I pull her upward. Her hands clutch at my head and then scramble back for the wall while I duck down and grab her thigh, then shove her far enough up the wall until I’m able to get her flailing legs over my shoulders.
From there, I remove my fingers and catch her backside before she falls, then stand back to my full height and shove my face against her hot pussy.
Dove’s moans mix between alarmed and exhilarated and she immediately closes her thighs around my head and squeezes tightly.
It doesn’t last.
Three flat strokes of my tongue through her slick folds and her thighs begin trembling around my ears.
Both her hands clutch at my hair and pull but another three flat strokes and one of her legs relaxes so much it almost falls from my shoulder.
My grip tightens on her thighs, focused on keeping her balanced on my shoulders, safe against the wall, and utterly boneless at the attention from my mouth and tongue.
