Page 67 of Diamond In The Rough

“The first one.” And yet, I tug down his black silk boxer shorts and reveal his cock, engorged and purpling at the end. Moisture dribbling from the tip, and veins stretching all the way to the base and beyond. “This is definitely about you.”

Lie. Lie. Lie!

“You’re not even very good at it, you know?”

I glance up, offended already. “At what? I haven’t even put it in my mouth yet.”

He snickers, reaching down to fist his dick and squeezing until we both breathe a little heavier. “I’m sure you know exactly how to suck me off, Grá. I meant you’re not very good at lying. Which, I suppose,” he slips his thumb past my lips, and groans when I suck. “Bodes well for us both. If you were good at it, then perhaps I’d already be a dead man.”

“An eventuality that may still come to be.” I bite his thumb, and smile when he hisses. Yet, his cock pulses. It grows and thrums and points directly toward me. “I’m not working for Wilkes, but I might kill you for my own sense of satisfaction.”

“Uh huh.” He drags his thumb from my mouth and fists his hand in my hair instead, his body growing broader, heavier, as testosterone pumps through his veins.

He pushes me back until my head rests against the cabinet, then he inches forward, filling the space and declaring I won’t be setting the pace here. He will. “Open your mouth. But stop speaking.”

“You’re an asshole.” I wrap my palm around his cock. It’s thick, just like the rest of him. Girthy, and a promise to hurt. But the good kind of hurt. The kind that dances with pleasure and leaves a woman begging for more. “Why don’t you stop talking? We’d get along better if you did.”

He sniggers, completely at ease and, dare I say, relaxed for what I suspect is the first time in a long time.

“Open up, Grá.” And to make sure I do, he grabs my jaw and pries my lips apart. Then, slowly, he slides in.

His cock touches my lips. Then my tongue. Leaving me nowhere to escape, since my head is already pressed to the cabinet, he continues until I feel him at the back of my throat and tears spring to my eyes.

“All the way down, beautiful.” His shoulders and chest tighten. His jaw, gritting as he maintains control.

He wants so desperately to slam into my mouth, to choke me. To hurt me. He wants so badly to dominate and punish me, if only as payback for what he assumed my intentions were.

He was wrong. But that doesn’t erase the feelings he held about my guilt. It doesn’t remove the anger he carries.

“Fuckkkk…” He releases my hair and presses his palms to the edge of the counter, standing over me and crowding me against the cupboard as he braces himself.

I have nowhere to go. No room to occupy. But I tighten my lips around his dick anyway. Suckling, if only because I may have just this one chance to be with him.

This might be our one and only night.

So instead of remaining passive, I take back my power and fist his cock, enjoying the rolling groan that erupts from the depths of his throat when I swallow him down.

“Tiia!” He pulls back and shoves forward, fucking my face and taking his pleasure. “Jesus.”

Blindly, I feel beneath the lip of the counter with one hand. I fumble around, exploring with just the tips of my fingers, recognizing the rough plywood of cheap cabinetry beneath the faux marble tops, and the coarse exchange where wood turns to glue, then where glue turns to crooked screws. Finally, I find the cold steel handle of the blade I always keep hidden.

For moments like this, maybe.

For protection.

Fisting the handle just as surely as I fist his cock, I bring my weapon around and set the cold steel at the base of his shaft.

Instantly, he freezes.

His chest stills, and his eyes shoot to mine.

If I expected him to turn flaccid and afraid, then I’m quickly proven wrong. He remains firm in my mouth, even as his gaze shoots between my hand and my eyes.

Curiosity. Anger. Intrigue. Amusement.

But no fear.

I push him back until my lips are free from his length, until I can use my tongue again. Until I can speak.

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