Page 151 of House of Lies

I sag back against Ethan. The sobbing becomes a wicked, manic laugh.

Can’t even gouge out his eyes. Someone beat me to it.

Ethan drags me away from the scene of the crime.

I laugh, reach out, and grab a glass of champagne from the tray Myles is still holding. I slug it down my throat, giving the now blood-stained glass a bemused smile before setting it back on the tray.

“We…should go…” Ethan says in a thick voice.

“I have the number of an excellent therapist,” Smith says, the words barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

“But we haven’t even spoken about—” Myles begins, only to be shushed by Richmond.

Ethan lifts me into his arms and carries me out of the Den, into the elevator. When the doors close behind us, he sets me on my feet and starts wiping a damp towel over my hands. Then my arms.

He gently grasps my chin and tips my head back. His gaze moves over my face for a long moment before he dabs the towel over my cheeks and forehead and nose.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know.”

He licks his lips. My eyes fix on his mouth. “Kiss me.”

“You’re covered in blood. And…fuck knows what else.”

I grab the front of his shirt. “Kiss me. Please, Sir.”

The growl that rumbles out of his throat should scare me, but all it does is remind me just how strong and possessive this man is.

He grabs my ass and lifts me off my feet, slamming my back into the elevator’s mirror. It’s second nature by now for my thighs to wrap around his waist. For my arms to sling over his shoulders. For my hands to grip the back of his neck as he crushes his mouth against mine.

The moment my legs open, the ridge of his hard cock presses against my pussy.

“That turned you on?” I whisper breathlessly between hungry kisses.

“You were fucking magnificent.”

The rasp of his zipper fills the intimate space, then he’s forcing himself into me, stretching my pussy in one hard thrust.

I moan in pain, in pleasure, in relief as sensation floods back into my body.

Was I in shock?

“Harder,” I moan, grinding against him with every buck of his hips. “I want you to hurt me.”

He presses one hand against the mirror beside my head, grabs my ass in the other, and starts pounding me into the wall. My nails dig into his shoulders, and I arch my back as a violent climax comes screaming my way.

“Marry me,” he grunts out, his cock slamming balls-deep into me.

“Fuck, yes.”

“Yes?” Another furious pump of his hips sends me into utter oblivion.

I claw at his back, clinging so tightly to him he can’t pull out.

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

His teeth clamp over the side of my neck, sucking painfully at my flesh a moment before his cock throbs inside me. He groans, crushing me to the bronzed mirror as he tries to find another inch of space inside my pussy.

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