Page 46 of Craving Chaos

My mouth hangs open like the fish’s—we’re equally shocked.

“You … you can’t…”

“I can’t what, Shae?” He returns to my side, his thick fingers wrapping around my neck and coaxing me to my feet. “Tell me what I can’t.” His lips are so close to mine. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

“You can’t … be serious. That was a joke.”

His lips quirk upward in the corners with more vicious delight than I would have thought him capable of. “You knew exactly what you were signing up for. A bet is a bet—there’s no backing out.”

“But … but I’m all sweaty, and I haven’t shaved in ages. You seriously don’t want to go there.” I could fight him off if I needed to, but that’s not the problem. What worries me is how intensely I want to feel his body touching mine in the most intimate, primal way possible. If I let this happen, I’m not sure I’ll be the same after. I know I won’t. I won’t be Shae anymore.

I’ll be his.

“Oh, I’m going there. And if I need to, I’ll lick you clean myself.” He takes the hem of my shirt and sweeps it up and over my head so that I’m left standing in my bra and jeans. Then he’s in my space again, his hands threading into my hair as he brings his cheek to mine. “What’s the matter, Chaos? Scared you’ll like it?” He bites my earlobe with the perfect amount of pain and pleasure before kissing his way down my neck.

The way he touches me lights every nerve ending on fire. His body somehow speaks to mine on a molecular level, and I’m powerless against it.

“Just this once,” I breathe, my head tipping back. “Because I’m a woman of my word.” I don’t even know what I’m saying because I’m so lost in sensation.

His hands unclasp my jeans. I breathe in shallow, shaky breaths as he walks me backward to the bed, then yanks my pants down to my ankles. His hand flattens on my belly to lay me back on the bed before he pulls my jeans the rest of the way off.

It all happens so fast that my head is spinning. I’m not used to a partner taking control. I’m usually the one in the lead, but Renzo is a man possessed. He’s done playing, and he’s certainly not asking for permission.

That doesn’t mean I have to let him.

I wonder if taking control is what I need to neutralize the situation. To keep from being swept away.

Yes, that’s it. And besides, if he’s going to wreck me, he should have to work for it.

I get up quickly, spinning us so that his back is to the bed. I make him sit, then climb on his lap, my legs straddling his. His cock is so impossibly hard, it feels incredible pressed against my core. My pelvis grinds with the need for more. I move in to press my lips to his when his head twists to the side just enough to prevent me from achieving my goal.

Dark amusement deepens the azure of his eyes. “Nice try, but that’s not how this is going to happen.” He grips my wrists in one of his hands while the other keeps my body connected with his while he stands long enough to spin me around and place me on my back again. This time, his body follows mine and holds me in place. “This is my prize, and I’ll take my winnings on my terms.”

His natural dominance has the alpha female in me purring so loudly I can’t hear myself think.

“Just remember the deal—you can touch me, not fuck me. You’re not getting me knocked up out here.” I glare at him, and I’d swear something primal and untamed stares back at me.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” I find the eerie dissonance to his words unsettling yet captivating. I’ve never been the focus of such intense desire.

He holds my hands above my head, resting his body to the side with his back against the wall. He uses his free hand to part my thighs. I wonder if he’s going right for the main attraction—so many men do—but he surprises me when his hand slowly glides up my body, feeling, testing, learning. When he reaches my bra, he hooks his finger in the middle, his eyes connecting with mine as he achingly slowly tugs it low enough for my breasts to pop free.

I’d been anticipating this moment to the point of obsession, and now that it’s here, it’s even better than I imagined. Renzo’s chest expands on a shocked inhale.

“Oh, Chaos, baby. You’ve been keeping secrets.” Each gravelly word scrapes across my skin with exquisite pleasure.

At this rate, he won’t even have to touch me to make me come. I’m so damn turned on I could light the night sky.

Renzo leans forward and runs his tongue around one of my pierced nipples, then sucks it into his mouth and releases me with a pop. I practically levitate off the bed.

My padded bra prevented him from being able to tell I was pierced. I thought he’d appreciate the discovery, but I was wrong. Judging from the way he rises to straddle my body and lavish each taut peak with adoration, he’s well past appreciation.

His hands snake beneath my back and unclasp my bra, then tosses it over his shoulder. His stare devours me. I love the way it feels but still have to fight back insecurities about my current appearance. I’ve never in my life let another person see me so natural. Even if I’m not dating anyone, I don’t let myself get this overgrown.

I hate that this is how he’s seeing me for the first time, though I don’t detect any repugnance coming from Renzo in the slightest. Quite the opposite. He’s acting as though I’m the tastiest dessert he’s had in years.

And when he moves down my body and lowers my panties down below my hips, Renzo proves my impending mortification is unnecessary when he runs the bridge of his nose along my slit and moans his approval with a guttural sound that brings a flush to my skin. It’s the most primitively masculine sound I’ve ever heard. And the most possessive.

My thighs part as if on command.

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