Page 17 of Unwrapping Deviance

“You started it.”

I frown. “I did not...” but I had. I can’t pick his cock out of a line up, but I saw enough. “Who comes down with their pants open?” I snap instead.

“I thought I would have to fight a burglar.”

“With your ... your...” my eyes sting with mortification and I fix them to the center of his chest where a beautiful, raven-haired woman with fierce blue eyes and full lips stares back. I briefly wonder if she’s someone important but opt not to ask.

“A weapon is a weapon.”

I hate the little twitch in my lips, a subtle amusement at the thought of him warding off an intruder with his dick.

“Must be really big,” I blurt and gasp, clapping both hands over my mouth. “I’m sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

But Christian roars with laughter. The sound rolls through the deafening silence and amplifies against the walls of my skull.

I’m so horrified, my ears are on fire.

“Oh, I like you. You’re going to be fun,” he growls deep, deep in his chest, a husky rumble I feel vibrate through my bones, down to my core.

Because he’s so close. He’s inches. A heady force crowding my space. Backing me.

Capturing me when I hit the wall.

His grin is loud and vicious. It’s the satisfied leer of a wolf.

“What has you out of your bed, little girl?”

I swallow audibly and press harder into the cold plaster. “Kitchen. I ... water.”

He looms over me. Forcing my face back with the strategic placement of his forearm braced just above my head. His eyes burn into mine with the predatory gleam of an animal.

If I could think, if my body wasn’t reacting to him with such desperate need, I would push him away. I would have told him to get away from me, but I have lost all my senses.

“Tell me something.”

The warm whisper of his words caress my lips, making the skin tingle and part even as my own gaze drops to the firm folds of his inches—inches—over mine.

“What?”

His free hand lifts and captures a coil of hair off my shoulder. The strand is twisted around his index finger and brought to his nose.

He inhales and my stomach pitches. My panties are barely enough to contain the searing flood rushing from my body. I try to stifle the flow with the subtle clenching of my thighs, but Christian lowers his eyes to where I’m throbbing and I’m biting my lip to keep from making a sound when my heart is hammering in my chest.

He makes a low, guttural groan that flares his nostrils, dilating his irises until only a thin band of gold drifts up to meet mine.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

My words are shaky but that’s because I’m shaking. “I haven’t done—”

“Your pussy’s so wet. It’s all I can smell.”

Never in my life has anyone ever told me I stink. I took regular showers. Iwashdown there every time and change my panties every day. But the fact that he just blurted I smell has me wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. I fold my knees over each other, trying to contain this horrific new knowledge.

“Don’t,” he practically growls. “It’s fucking delicious.” The tip of this stranger’s nose bumps mine. “It’s making my mouth water,” he drawls in that way that only increases the moisture I’m failing to stop. Above my head, knuckles pop and crack as if he’s balling his fingers. “Do you scream when you cum?”

Like literally everything that has come out of his mouth, the question is so random, so personal and offensive, I can’t think to respond right away.

“Excuse me?” I blurt at last.

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