Page 96 of Vandal Unbound

He carries me to his room but pauses outside Elsie’s room to check on her. And the move melts my heart. My little girl looks safe and comfortable and warm.

When we reach his room, he puts me down near the bottom of the bed. Then he closes the door and does exactly what he said he would do. As if it weighs nothing, he drags the dresser until it overlaps the door by a few inches.

“First job tomorrow is to go to the hardware store to buy a lock,” he mutters when he wraps his hands around me before kissing me thoroughly. “Now,” he says, stepping away from me, “I need you to strip.”

My eyes go wide. “What?”

He whips his belt off his jeans, opens the button and zipper, then readjusts his now very erect cock.

“I don’t like that your brain is racing with shit about a man who didn’t deserve you. And you don’t like it either. But seems to me that unless I really push you, you’re gonna be half here and half there.”

My cheeks heat again. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because it’s true.

“What was it you said you wanted tonight?”

“Something rough.”

He smirks. “Don’t simplify it. I think what you said was that you want me to take you. Violate you. And something about it being messy and hard and hot. Oh, and we need to be quiet. Because we can’t wake Elsie. So strip.”

As if to punctuate the conversation, he slips his hand into his underwear and strokes himself in a way that makes my thighs clench together.

He smiles like he knows exactly what he’s doing, his hand moving up and down. His gaze drags down my body slowly, and I have a giddy realization that this is probably more like who he is. And what I might have experienced before was the watered-down version.

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself, Daisy?” he asks.

A rush of anticipation fills my veins, because while I’ve often thought of Vandal as intense, it’s different when all that intensity is directed at me. I should probably be nervous, but instead, my pulse kicks even harder.

“I like this version of you,” I admit.

He smiles at that. “You might not like the version of me that comes out if you keep stalling taking your clothes off.”

I’ve never stripped for a man. I’ve got zero clue how to make it look sexy. But I do my best to channel how he makes me feelabout my body. He looks at it with a kind of worship I find hard to believe.

Slowly, I run my hands over my breasts and down my body to the hem of my T-shirt. When I reach it, I inch it up slowly. His eyes follow the lifting cotton, and he runs his tongue over his lips when my shirt clears my bra.

I tug it over my head and throw it at him.

He smiles as he catches it, then tosses it onto the dresser.

I unbutton my shorts and lower the zipper. But instead of sliding them over my hips just yet, I dip my finger beneath my panties, mirroring what he’s doing. Then I buck when I slide them through the wetness that’s gathering there.

My head falls back, and I take a deep breath. I can’t look at him yet, because if I do, I might lose the edge I?—

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Vandal says gruffly.

His validation makes me open my eyes. His lips are slightly parted. His eyes hooded. “You said you wanted me to help you get out of your head. But I think you’re better at it than I am.”

I don’t answer, but the truth is, I only feel this brave because he’s the man standing opposite me.

He stops stroking his cock for a second and reaches for my wrist. Sliding my hand out of my panties, he brings it to his nose first and inhales deeply.

“Love the smell of your pussy,” he says. Then he leads my fingers to his mouth, dragging them over his lower lip, before sliding his tongue between them.

Him just sucking my fingers would be hot, but the sight of his tongue sliding between them, mimicking that act of going down on me, makes everything inside me tighten with a shudder.

“I don’t know the name and face of every man who made you feel afraid. But I’m gonna spend a lifetime erasing them.” He releases my wrist. “Now finish taking off your clothes.”

In a moment of inspiration, I turn my back on him as I bend and shimmy my denim shorts down my legs. I threw out every single pair of sexy lingerie my ex had bought. It felt tainted somehow. So all Vandal gets is practical white cotton.