Page 42 of Pawn

“Take. It. Off,” I repeat, my voice filling our little space.

That clench of her jaw, that little twitch of her eyebrow says there’s no way she’s about to back down. Stubborn as fuck.

“Why don’t you come take it off?” she teases, hands on her hips, the river coming into view behind her.

“Not until you say it.”

That gets her to drop her jacket before she crosses her arms in front of her, pulling off her hoodie. Her hair falls on her bare shoulders, brushing those round, brown tits. My cock presses against my jeans watching her pull on the band of her joggers, giving me a glimpse of her black panties.

“You sure you don’t wanna take the rest of this off?”

She’s dodging, but I’m not budging. Sitting on one of the beige leather seats, I cross my arms. I can be stubborn too. “Say it.”

“You say it.” She pushes her joggers down to her ankles before she crosses her arms but my eyes fall back to her perfect thighs. That plump ass. Her sandy skin matches the gold in her eyes and the streaks in her hair, the sun shining behind her.

Perfection.

“I love you, Jo.” She’s silent but a smile tugs at my lips when I say it, her arms falling as my eyes wander that perfect fucking body. “I love you but you don’t get off easy.”

“Fuck.” There’s a pull at her lips like she’s fighting a smile. Stepping out of her joggers, she walks towards me, brown nipples perky. While I want them in my mouth, I want to hear those words more.

She straddles me, her warm pussy heating the fabric of my pants, my cock pressing against her.

That Medusa gaze hits me before she speaks, “We’re fucked up and I mean beyond fucked up. But I love you, Damien King.” There’s a blur in her eyes and there’s a warmth spreading through my chest knowing it’s not from pain. It’s not from hurt. “I’m sorry it to—”

I don’t let her finish her sentence. My lips crash into hers and that taste takes over me again. Sweet honey. Sweet Jo. I don’t need an apology. I just need her. Saying those words gets rid of my fear. My doubts. My arms wrap around her waist while she wraps those long, slender legs around me, her warm thighs squeezing into my ribs.

“I love you, King,” her lips land against my ear, her words a moan that makes me rock hard.

“Say it again,” I groan.

“I love you.” She presses her lips to mine and the way she’s kissing me feels different, her smile against my face.

It’s deeper, like she’s finally putting in her all. Like if she stops, so will her breath. Shit, all it took was being honest with each other. Honest that we’re actually in love with our biggest enemy.

“I want you,” she moans against my lips and damn, I love that sound.

I love her.

With her arms and legs around me, I get up, my hands under her ass before I press her back against the glass wall.

“You don’t know what that does to me,” I growl, sinking my teeth into the thin skin of her neck. My hand pushes between her legs. “And now I want to feel what I do to you.”

With her body pinned between the glass and my chest, she pushes off my jacket and I love the wildfire in her eyes, the animal she is when she’s with me.

When I find her soaking folds I let her know, “You stay wet for me, don’t you?” Yanking on her hair, I know she loves it when she lets out that little gasp, her chin pointed. “Say it again.”

Pushing my fingers inside her, I give myself an extra treat when she moans those words again, “I fucking love you.”

Then I can’t take it. Pushing her legs off me I turn her around, pressing her tits into the glass. When my pants drop to the ground, my cock springs out of my boxers, large and in charge. Taking a step back, she pokes that plump little ass out.

“And what does that mean, Rowland?” I growl.

Jo raises her hands above her head against the glass, her chin over her shoulder. Those eyes drop to my cock before they meet my gaze, a nibble on her lip. “I’m yours.”

Fuuuck, yes.

The gondola wobbles when I damn near pounce on her. There’s something about those words that turn me into the monster I am.

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