Page 124 of Ricochet

Her palms hit my chest, and I swiped her hand away. I needed her. Had craved her too fucking long to stop. More.

A moan vibrated against my mouth. Yes. A hand thumped against my chest.

I severed the kiss, broke away, and a coldness filled the space between us.

She sucked in a sharp inhale. “Can’t breathe.”

“I’m sorry, I wanted this to be gentle, but after the harrowing task of bringing your lifeless body back from death that night … my head’s been in a bad place these last few months.”

“The feeling’s mutual. When you left me that note … you weren’t planning to come back. You planned to die that night. I hate you for what you put me through.”

“Hate’s a strong word.” Lifting her arms above her head, I pinned her to the bed and traced my lips at the base of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent—the only one that could bring me to my knees. “Are you sure you hate me?”

“Yes.” The hoarseness in her voice brought a smile to my face.

Pressing into her arms, I slid my shaft against her slit, teasing her, but goddamn it, I was a thread away from losing my mind.

I’d itched for the woman’s touch for months, especially on those cold, sleepless nights when I’d cut the shit out of myself, trying to push the memory of her away, until realizing in the end that I couldn’t. Couldn’t let her go. Like a selfish bastard, I’d gone after her instead, even knowing I’d be putting her at risk. I didn’t give a shit, though, just like a junkie didn’t give a shit that the next hit could be his own destruction. I needed her. Every fiber of me ached for one more hit, one more high that would settle my mind, keep the darkness from consuming me.

Kissing along her jaw coaxed a quiet moan from her lips. “How much do you hate me?” Shifting my groin, I positioned the head of my cock at her entrance, so goddamn wet, I shivered. “Tell me,” I demanded, squeezing her small wrists.

Her breath shuddered in my ear. “So much.”

With maddening, tiny movements, I pressed into her, but didn’t breach her pussy. “Maybe I should stop.”

“No!” Her breasts surged into my chest with her protest. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

Her eyes flipped open, but remained hooded with lust. “Fuck me.”

“Say it again,” I demanded.

“Fuck me, Nick.”

CHAPTER 56

Aubree

My body came alive again, like air being forced into a corpse that suddenly blossomed with life. I not only wanted him, I needed him.

Food, water, air and him.

My everything.

He pushed inside of me, all the way to the hilt, while I let out a pleasured cry.

“I’m the one who brought you back, Aubree. I jumped into that water and pulled your dead fucking body out of that vault. Not Alec. Me.”

The sobering thought twisted my stomach in knots of sadness, recalling the utterly shaken state I’d awakened to, with him hovering over me like some kind of dark angel, the first time I’d seen fear on his face.

“The sight of you messed with my head. I need to fuck you. In fact, it might take a few days of fucking you to get it out of my system, but right now, I need you to give me everything you’ve got.”

The soft feathering of his lips across my throat clenched my thighs, and a whimper escaped me when he slid his tongue up my neck. Teeth grazing my jawline, he curled his fingers around my nape, gripping me, as if I had any desire to get away from him.

“Aubree, I’ve been so strung out, thinking about you every night, for months,” he rasped. “Your taste. Your smell. Driving me insane. I want that little pistol inside of you, and as much as I fuck you, I want you to fuck me back, because you’ve fucked my mind.”

My head slammed back into the pillow, as he short stroked me, the sensation driving me mad with lust. “Please!” Tongue sweeping my lips, I slid my hand between my thighs, shamelessly massaging my clit.