Page 11 of Fractured Onyx

His right eyebrow arches up and he tilts his head to the side.

"No, huh?"

Much to my surprise, he throws the rope aside, unerringly tossing it on the bed before he reaches for me, grabbing me by the shoulders. I squirm on instinct, twisting and turning under his evasive touch, but even I know that my attempt is half-assed at best. I can't explain it, but he comforts me. As much as my heart has been speeding this whole time, as much as I fear all of this, him, the Covey, the things that lie ahead, when I'm this close to him, subjected to the impact of his warmth, it all diminishes. My pulse calms, and I breathe more regularly, almost relaxed.

"Why?" I murmur, barely audible. "Why are you doing this to me?"

My question is heavy with a weight he doesn't know about. He can't possibly understand what I'm asking, that my question is not just in regard to the cruelty he has shown me, but also in respect to my puzzled emotions.

I dare to look up at him, meeting his speckled gray gaze with a firmness that surprises me.

He doesn't give me a verbal response, but lets his hands speak instead. I find myself moving with him, following his lead as he glides down along the side of my body.

"Fine then," he says in an ominous whisper. "If you're not getting rid of these clothes—then I will do it for you."

I want to fend him off, but even the idea of protest is nipped in the bud when he rips the buttons off of my blouse.

Chapter 8

Nate

It's a risky move, but she responds to it in a way that causes my cock to swell in an instant. A faint gasp flees her lips and her eyes widen, a brief impulse to resist flashes across her face, but it's feeble and short-lived.

Her cheeks are flushed and the breaths she takes are heavy and greedy, just like the yearning that now dominates the expression on her pretty face. I always thought her to be shy and reluctant, very different to Lailah who has always been a girl who takes what she wants when she wants it, regardless of the consequences.

I didn't see that kind of impatient fire in Malia—until now.

She surprises me when she gets up on her toes, her hands flying up and meeting behind my neck so she can pull me closer when her lips meet mine in an eager kiss. For a split second, I'm the passive character in this dance while she took over the lead. But I wouldn't be me if I let this happen for long.

I'm always the one in control. Always.

I don't stop our kiss, leaving my lips connected to hers in a wanton connection as I reach for her hands, forcing them down in one harsh yank behind her back. I hold her wrists together with one hand while grabbing a fist of hair at the back of her head with the other. And just like that, the dynamic has changed.

"Watch out," I seethe at her. I'm met with deep craving in her deep black eyes when I break our kiss. "You're not the one making the decisions here."

She sucks in another deep breath of air, visibly aroused by that announcement. But I doubt she'd ever admit it. She's obviously new to this—and very stubborn.

Her struggle is nothing but show when I lead her to the bed. She doesn't even move her arms when I let go of her to finish what I started. The blouse flies down to the floor, soon followed by her bra.

She's standing before me topless, twitching as she fights the urge to cover herself. It seems she has already learned that much.

"Good girl," I praise her.

A hint of confusion flares across her face, suggesting that she doesn't understand what I'm praising her for.

Instead of explaining, I move behind her back, reaching around her narrow shoulders to reach just below her belly button. She freezes in my embrace, but doesn't stop me when I unbutton her pants and slowly pull down the zipper. From the corner of my eye, I can see her lips moving, as if she was trying to verbally protest, but fails to bring the words out.

I take her panties with me when I pull down the jeans, an exposure that is met with another heartfelt sigh from her. The sound is music to my ears and makes my cock twitch with impatient need.

I let her feel it, poking my hard tip against her back as I straighten up. She jerks away, but just for a split second before she leans back in, cautiously and so subtly that it is hardly noticeable, but the motion is definitely there.

I place my hands on her shoulders and turn her around. She lowers her eyes, evading mine while embarrassment kisses her cheeks with a deep red color. I notice her gaze resting on my bulge, her small chest heaving with desire while she draws her lower lip between her teeth. The sight of it drives me crazy.

"Arms behind your back," I command.

She casts a coy look up at me, hesitating for a moment before she obeys.

"It's not fair," she whispers.

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