Page 148 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
I push my beard against her pussy and grip her thighs, making her ride my tongue until she’s arching, straining, coming real sweet for me.
“Please,” she whispers as I climb back up her body, gripping my cock. “Please, Holden.”
“Please what?”
The way she bites her lip says it all.
I notch my dick at her entrance, feeling like an animal pulling on its chain.
Something’s changed since the first few times we fucked.
It was wild then, but now—fuck, it’s breaking something soul deep. Like every time I sink down inside her and bottom out, I give away another piece of myself.
Making false promises of fantasy because I can’t answer her impossible questions.
This can’t work. Cleo Blackthorn deserves better than a jaded, older prick who’s too screwed up to give her what she needs beyond the bedroom.
She deserves youth, stability, a future with a man who hasn’t been flattened by his past and run over.
She deserves a clean slate.
She deserves a life with some art dork who can gush about pretty pictures and towering sculptures right along with her, who knows symbolism and style like the back of his scrawny tattooed hand.
She deserves someone smart and kind and emotionally available.
Not me.
Not the jealous fuck who’d love to strangle her imaginary lover just for eyeing her a second too long.
Live in the moment, you asshole. It isn’t hard.
Yeah. I thrust inside her like my whole world might end after tonight.
She moans, hips rising to meet my strokes.
Growling, I wrap my hand around the small of her back, holding her against me, the better to shake her deeper and harder, unrelenting.
She’s so small, so easy to use for an addiction that has me like a drug.
That also means it’s painfully easy to hurt her, too, and I don’t mean physically.
This girl deserves better and she’s only got me, but I’ll still make damn sure she doesn’t feel like she’s missing out while we’re sinning against common sense.
Her hand comes up to my face, lingers on my cheek, and I kiss her deeply.
I bite her mouth until she whimpers.
I let her taste herself on my lips. I hope she knows how fucking incredible it is.
“Yes, yes,” she whines. “Just like that. You feel so good. I love it when you fuck me.”
And just like that, I’m falling, crashing down and colliding with sharp, unforgiving rocks in ways I don’t dare admit.
Dangerous.
It’s like staring at the sun, blinding and sure to leave permanent damage. So the sane thing to do is avoid it, don’t look, just turn away and enjoy the warmth.
Don’t think too hard.
