Page 161 of Volatile Obsessions

? Love The Way You Lie - Eminem & Rihanna ?

Dripping wet, he carries me through the house and up the stairs, his lips working against mine, tongue lashing viciously in and out of my mouth. It’s like he can’t get enough of me, desperate for another fix, another high. I can’t lie and say it’s not the same for me, ‘cause it is. God, it is. His mouth can do some deliciously wicked things and I want it all over me. Correction—I want him all over me; on me, in me, everywhere. I want him to consume me, to suffocate me in his darkness and embed me into the fabric of his being.

“That pretty little cunt better be ready for me, Lux,” he warns as we burst into his chamber, the doors slamming harshly against the walls. “Because the second I drop you on this bed, I plan on sliding my cock home and stretching you out all night long.”

“Sounds like torture,” I breathe, all but shivering in anticipation from the overwhelming sense of lust ripping through me.

“Oh, it will be.” He laughs darkly. “And you’re going to love every bloody second of it.”

No sooner do the words leave his mouth before he flings me onto his bed. His hands make quick work of yanking my drenched bikini bottom down my legs and shoving them apart, exposing me to his hungered stare.

The growl that rips free from his chest is so deep and predatory, I feel myself slickening in anticipation.

I want to taunt him, to show him what he does to me, but I don’t move, I don’t speak.

I can’t.

His reaction to my body leaves me completely hypnotized.

How his brow furrows, the way he licks his bottom lip, the way his chest heaves, how with every second he gazes a little longer his dick twitches and rises at attention.

The tiniest moan bubbles in my throat, snapping his attention up to my face. He must like what he sees because that devilish smirk plays on all his features as he sinks to his feet between my legs. With exquisite slowness, he grips my ankles and stamps featherlight kisses up my legs, first the right, then the left. They’re so soft, I barely feel them, and yet I’m trembling, pooling at the gentleness of his touch.

His eyes glow demonically in the dim lighting, literally glow, racking another pussy-clenching shiver down my spine. Like a beast stalking his prey, he comes for me, slithering his way up my body until I’m trapped beneath him with nowhere to go.

“I love you,” he vows, sliding into me in one fluid stroke. “I fucking love you.”

Balls deep in my own fantasy, I was sheer seconds away from falling over the edge within the confines of my shower, when my bloody phone started ringing.

Blaring.

The vibe harsh on the marble countertop.

Fingers freezing over my clit, I groaned frustratedly and shut off the water, rushing out to check the caller ID.

A quick scan revealed the last name I expected to see; Vic.

My stomach churned violently.

No doubt this had to do with Roscoe firing him.

Wrapping my towel around myself, I swiped the screen and connected the call, throwing it on speaker.

“You’re wasting your time if you’re trying to get your job back,” I answered, deciding my usual bitchy demeanor would probably be best.

Vic laughed weakly, but it was far from one of amusement. “Trust me, Lux—the last thing I want is my fucking job back.”

“Then what the bloody hell do you want?” I snapped, sauntering into my bedroom to get dressed.

I was supposed to meet Rome soon.

“To ruin you.” That’s all he offered, and he sounded deathly serious.

Goose pimples prickled my skin at the vengeful edge of his voice, an uneasy chill rapidly working its way through my being.

Rather than revealing my cards, than revealing the depth of my trepidation, I laughed out loud, pulling a tank top free from my dresser. “Is that so? Go on, Vic. Humor me.”

“He’s lying to you,” he deadpanned, stilling me in place.

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