Page 60 of Diamond in the Rough (The Diamond Trilogy 1)
“I don’t have to threaten you to get a kiss, sweetheart.”
Her expression turns mutinous. Is it wrong that I’m hard as a fucking iron bar right now? I want her fighting me. I want her turned on even as she wrestles with her morality. I want her to come so hard she’s screaming my name even as she loses.
I grasp the back of her neck and pull her close. Her lips are pressed together in defiance. I press a kiss to them. It’s like a brick wall. Another kiss. It’s a very sad fact that I enjoy this even without her consent. I nibble her bottom lip, and she makes a growling sound.
Her palms push me away. “Why did you give her the diamonds?”
“So I could steal them.”
“Bullshit,” she says.
I stand up straighter. “Excuse me?”
She steps close enough that we’re toe to toe, her bare breasts brushing against my chest, her eyes a foot away from mine. They’re brown and luminous tonight, as if she’s fully in her power. That’s the irony of this little interrogation.
The more I question her, the more I need her.
“You heard me. And I know you’re basically a genius, so you understand, too. Bull. Shit. You gave her the diamonds because you wanted to sleep with her.”
For a moment I stare at her. And then reality hits me, and I burst out laughing.
This is the wrong thing to do. I know it’s the wrong thing to do, but I can’t help it. London Frank? She’s fucking gorgeous, but she has nothing, not a single thing on my little tooth fairy with streets paved with teeth. She’s vicious and authentic and raw.
Her hand rises. I have plenty of time to catch her wrist or step back, but I let the slap come. The sting makes my cock flex in my jeans.
She stares at her palm, which looks pink from impact. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Holly
He doesn’t look angry that I slapped him. He looks amused.
“Do it again.”
I raise my hand, but the heat of the moment has passed. I’m not a violent person. My sister’s life is at stake, and I don’t know how to help her. I only know that I can’t trust Elijah. He’s been dishonest with me every second that I’ve known him. “No.”
Disappointment flashes through his green eyes. “You’re twenty-four years old and still worried about being upstaged by your sister?”
“I don’t resent her for it, but I’m not blind either. She’s beautiful.”
He tugs me gently, and I find myself following him. It seems like my body trusts him even if my mind knows better. He pulls me in front of the dresser, where the mirror reflects me back at him. I have to admit that it’s erotic, the way I’m completely naked while he’s fully clothed, my softness against his hardness, my pale skin against his tanned muscles.
He reaches around and places two fingers at the hollow of my neck. “The way your pulse flutters here.” His hand falls lower, to the place between my breasts. “The way your body dips here.” His hand falls lower to the gentle curve of my stomach and my belly button. “The way you suck in your breath when you’re about to come, like you’re going underwater.”
“What’s your point?” I say, feigning bravado in the onslaught of sensuality.
His green eyes meet mine in the mirror. “You are beautiful.”
He says the words so simply that I can’t help but believe him.
It doesn’t make him trustworthy in general. I may not be able to trust him with my life, or my sister’s life, but I know that he finds me attractive. Maybe that’s the appeal between us.
He lives a life of subterfuge. I mostly live in made-up worlds.
This chemistry between us, that’s real.
“I’m going to spread your legs,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “And then I’m going to fuck you. It’ll be long and hard, so you should hold on tight. If I have to fuck you right into the ground, I will. If you’re flat on the floor, I’ll be there, pumping into you from behind.”
My sex clenches, readying myself for him, even as my mind screams that this is wrong.
He kicks one of my legs apart with his booted foot. Then the other, so I’m spread wide. The feel of leather on my bare ankles makes me shiver. The sound of a zipper behind me gives me the last chance to change his mind.
“Elijah,” I whisper. “This isn’t how you want me.”
It’s not exactly an objection. It’s a cautionary tale. He notches the head of his cock to my pussy, and I can’t help but tilt my hips to take him better. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t want a pretty girl to stay home and cook pancakes when I roll through town. I want hard. Fast. I want to hold you down and make you take my cock until you cry.”
