Page 13 of Throttle

A muscle in his jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth. He leans forward, getting in my face, which forces me to step back until I’m trapped between him and the bed. I stumble and ungracefully plop onto the mattress as he follows me down, planting his heavy fists on the outsides of my hips. His gaze bores into me, and I can’t break the spell cast by his chocolate-brown eyes.

“Be careful, Princess. Not a good idea to provoke the animals,” he growls.

But apparently, I don’t know when to quit. “Fuck the animals,” I quietly seethe, flipping him off for good measure.

He responds with a chuckle before glancing at my mouth as his pupils begin to dilate. My body heats from our proximity and the intensity radiating off him. I need to get away. He’s making my head spin and clouding my judgment with lust.

“And you said I should watch my mouth.” He tsks with a slow shake of his head. He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip, slightly tugging it down before dropping his hand back to his side. “I’d say that mouth of yours is filthier than mine.”

“I highly doubt it,” I murmur as my gaze flickers to his full lips. This man is dangerous… to my well-being and my panties. But I can’t lose control right now. It’s the one thing keeping me sane after feeling helpless at the hands of a brutal killer. So I scramble to break the thick tension mounting between us. “And just so?—”

“Do you ever stop talking, Princess?” Throttle taunts, then crushes his lips to mine.

My brain short-circuits as I desperately try to reconcile this unexpected turn of events. He sharply tugs my silky hair, pulling my head back and forcing my mouth more firmly against his. It’s only then that I register what’s happening; Throttle is kissing me. But this kiss isn’t romantic. It’s not soft or gentle or tender. No, this is raw lust at its finest.

And I want more of it.

We stare at each other, challenge flaring in our gazes while our tongues feverishly move together. I bite down on his lower lip, a sick satisfaction running through me at the taste of his blood. He pulls away just enough to swipe the tip of his tongue over my fresh mark.

“Fuck, Sienna. Daddy likes it rough,” he groans, bringing his hand up to grip my throat.

Before I can protest, his mouth is on me again, that metallic taste slipping past my lips. Needing air, I attempt to turn away, but his grip tightens until I see stars. My arms fall limply at my sides while the room begins to spin, but I’m desperate for everything he’s giving me and wouldn’t dream of stopping him.

Why does kissing him feel so good?

“I like how you taste, baby. Must be that smart fucking mouth you got.” Throttle grins, sucking hard on my lower lip.

I moan, my eyes drifting closed but I’m not sure if it’s from reduced oxygen or being lust-drunk. His hand relaxes when he breaks the kiss, then he rests his forehead against mine. Our breaths are heavy and labored, my full breasts pressing against his warm body with every rise and fall of my chest.

I tilt my head so I can stare into his piercing eyes. They’re so intense, his pupils almost black. My body aches for him to touch me, yet I can’t explain why, since I don’t even know this man. Rationality swirls in the back of my mind, but my thoughts remain on him and his hand caressing my neck while he centers his focus on me. Just as he leans in for another kiss—one I’m all too willing to give—we hear loud, muffled voices coming from the other side of his door. And our ravenous trance is broken.

Throttle and I separate, dissipating the thick sexual tension in the room. Sanity and good sense flood my brain, and I brush his hand away, pushing at his chest.

What the hell was I thinking? I cannot get involved with this man.

“You need to keep your hands to yourself,” I warn him.

He smirks, dismissing my change of attitude as he yet again invades my space. “Don’t come at me again and I will.”

He slides a palm beneath my shirt and skates the back of his fingers against the smooth skin of my stomach. My nipples pucker from the sensual touch, but I refuse to let him drag me down that rabbit hole again, and steel my expression.

“Clean clothes are in the bag on the bathroom counter. Get dressed.” He casually wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb, seemingly disregarding this intense moment we shared.

Hurt zips through me, even though I brushed him off first. But I don’t utter another word, moving toward the bathroom instead while hoping the clothes he brought will fit. As much as I want to forget about what just happened between us, my mind remains locked on how wet my panties are and how right that kiss felt.

But it was wrong. And I won’t let it happen again.

8

THROTTLE

Fuck me. That kiss was everything.

As soon as Sienna retreats to the bathroom, I sneak out of my room, carrying the plate of food she made me, and find a comfortable spot in the kitchen to sit quietly with my thoughts. The past ten minutes replay in my head like a heavenly nightmare. I can still taste her sweetness on my lips, making me crave more.

The woman is insufferable, like she gets off on arguing with me. But fuck if it doesn’t go straight to my cock, urging me to fuck that sass right out of her. Dirty her up and make her beg me to let her come. Maybe I’m a masochist or some shit. I must be if my dick gets rock-hard after dealing with the little brat. When Emma had someone gunning for her life, she never copped an attitude like this. I also never wanted to fuck Emma into my mattress until she screamed and came all over my cock.

I squeeze my fork, bringing a bite of eggs to my mouth. My meal has gone cold, but it’s still fucking delicious. Not bad for such a defiant little girl. However, that doesn’t mean she’s earned my praise yet, and at this rate, she never will.

---