Page 48 of Draven

Something either in my tone or in my choice of words sets her off because she explodes as if someone lit a stick of dynamite beneath her.

Launching to her feet, she slams her palm against my shoulder. “Grow up?” she bellows, looming over me, our seated–standing positions giving her a momentary height advantage. “It’s you who needs to grow up, you fucking asshole. You always have to do things your way. You never listen to reason, never pause for thought, and you always think you’re right. I told you to call it in, but noooo. You couldn’t do that, could you? Just had to be the fucking hero. And now I’ve been demoted, and it’s all your fault.”

Ah, there’s my woman. She needs to let off steam, to rail on me. Keeping her fury, her rage, her sense of injustice curdling inside is a one-way ticket to Hell, but I have broad shoulders. I can take whatever she gives me.

Everything except the next words out of her mouth.

“I’ve lost everything. My sister. My career. I don’t have anything left to fight for.”

A deep ache spreads through my midriff, moving north to fill my chest cavity. I stand, towering over her. “You have me,” I say quietly.

She stares up at me as if I’ve grown two heads, then throws herself into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist. Her mouth crashes against mine, then she’s forcing my lips apart with her tongue. Her hands dig into my hair, and she tugs while simultaneously rubbing against me like a wild animal.

I nip at her bottom lip, an indication that although she may think she’s taken charge, it’s an illusion. Keeping a tight hold on her left hip, I burrow beneath her skirt, and with one firm yank, I rip off her panties. Deftly unbuttoning my jeans, I reached inside and grip my cock. Fuck, it’s never been so solid, surpassing all the other times when our fights turned me on to epic proportions.

“Do it, Draven,” she pants. “I’ve waited so long. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

With a deep groan, I carry her over to the nearest wall and test her with my fingers. Fuck, she’s soaked.

“Do it,” she orders for a second time. “Fuck me. I need this. I need you.”

Christ.

I don’t have a condom. I should care, but as I’ve already mentioned, I’m an asshole. I’m also a clean asshole, but she doesn’t know that. Even so, I thrust inside her. No preamble. No foreplay. No asking for permission to bareback her. Just giving in to raw, unfettered need.

Louise tears her mouth from mine, crying out my name. “Jesus, Draven. Fuck, that stings.”

Through a haze of rampant desire, I manage to pause long enough to grunt, “Stop?” although if she answers yes, I’m not sure what I’ll do. Smash my fist into a wall and then drink a whole bottle of scotch, probably.

She responds by tunneling beneath my jacket, under my shirt, her nails scoring my back deeply enough to draw blood. Not that I care. I’ll happily bleed for her because the way her pussy clamps around my cock surpasses every single sexual experience of my life. I find most women tight, given my size, but Lola’s walls encase my cock like a glove made only for me.

I want to stay locked inside her forever.

“Don’t you dare,” she growls.

She buries her face in my neck, biting, sucking, marking. I withdraw to the tip, then push forward so forcefully, she bangs her head against the wall. While supporting her ass with one hand, I curve the other around the back of her neck, holding her in place while I bang her as if my life depends on it.

“Ah, Christ,” she mutters. “Sorry.” And then she comes, her muscles clamping forcefully around my cock, milking me.

I continue drilling into her, drawing out her climax while setting off my own. I seek out her mouth. Our teeth clash, tongues dueling. My orgasm goes on and on until I’m not sure I have the strength to hold us both up any longer.

She winces when I pull out slowly and lower her legs to the floor, leaving me to tuck myself away, with my dick still at half-mast despite the stellar orgasm. Christ, I needed that release of pent-up frustration, and so had she.

“Lola?”

She meets my gaze through hooded lids, her teeth gently grazing against her bottom lip. “Yeah?”

I clasp her chin and tip back her head, then kiss her softly, gently, my tongue caressing, exploring every inch of her mouth.

She moans, her hands fisting in my shirt.

I stop kissing her to brush a thumb over her swollen bottom lip. “Let’s go to bed.”

Chapter 18

Louise

I stand with my arms loosely by my sides while Draven slowly peels off my clothes. In a strange turn of events, the quick fuck has taken a weight off my shoulders, leaving me feeling freer. Both of us needed the brutal, fast, almost painful union as a way to lay to rest the ghosts of our past and the conflict of the present, but if the expression on his face is anything to go by, the next time will be a slower affair.

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