Page 33 of Westin

I grip her neck. “I bet you will.”

Her eyes are glassy with desire. I push my hand between her legs and find her clit, rubbing it in earnest this time. Her thighs tighten, her pupils blown. My hips keep going, making sure my cock touches her G-spot as I fuck her soaked pussy. I see it coming in the deepening flush on her cheeks, the breathless whimpers spilling from her lips.

Her spine locks.

Her head falls back.

“Oh, God,” she cries out.

I watch her, savoring every second. The pleasure hits, and her mouth shakes. It falls open, and I see a flash of pink tongue and white teeth. Her body spasms. Her breath hitches and holds.

“Let it out, darling,” I soothe. “Keep on breathing.”

She gasps, writhing. Her chest heaves.

“That’s right, you just breathe through it. Keep those pretty hips going; ride every inch. Get it all out.”

She’s obedient in the throes of pleasure. Her body obeys my voice and hands as she does as she’s told, down to the letter, hands still tied with my worn leather belt to the steering wheel of my truck.

The only thought I have in my head is a dangerous one.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Sweet, little Diane Carter is mine, come hell or high water.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DIANE

I only know one side of men, the rough side that makes me want to draw up and hide. The mean side that keeps me hating them.

In Westin River Quinn, I’ve discovered a new world.

My body tumbles down from its high. His lids are heavy, and his glittering hazel eyes are drunk on sex. He takes me by the hips and ruts his cock into me like he can’t stop himself. My head spins, and I’m rising high in a new kind of euphoria, feeling things I’ve never felt.

When I first met him, he seemed so mild.

There’s no mildness in him now.

My desire is soft and desperate. His is hard and driving. God, it drives on and on as he chases his climax. I see it in the way his jaw tightens.

And yet, his hands don’t hurt me.

With one, he holds my hip and tugs me down onto him. With the other, he holds me by the throat. My head falls back and to the side. The mountains are a blue crack over the horizon. The sun blazes hot. The windows of his truck are down, and everything smells like hayfields.

He pulls me in, hand firm on my throat. His mouth meets mine, and I taste him, like leather and desire on my tongue. Inside, I ripple with pain as he gets closer to the end. It was like this the first time, right before he pulled from me and spilled onto my inner thigh. I know what’s coming now.

He grits his jaw, our lips touching.

“Fuck,” he groans.

He reaches behind me, and the belt around my wrist releases. In a second, I’m off his lap and on my back across the seats. He’s on one knee over me, one boot braced against the door behind him. I see a flash of hazel, a glitter of sweat. Then, he comes on me, all over my naked breasts, swearing as he does. It hits my neck and chin.

My brain buzzes.

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