Page 39 of Passion and Revenge

I shouldn’t be thinking about how she tastes—like the perfect combination of sin and innocence on my tongue.

Just one taste, I tell myself.One taste to sate the edges of my rabid hunger. Just a little taste to quench my curiosity.

I push my fingers into the mass of soft, dark hair at the back of her head and drag her ever closer, licking into her mouth with the sort of reckless abandon I thought I had put firmly behind me.

She moans into my mouth, a sound that rumbles through me and awakens the suppressed desire within me—a desire I’ve been trying to push down since I set eyes on the hazel-eyed siren in the gallery.

I slant my mouth against hers again and again, my body pressed fully against hers. Hard muscle against soft, wet, gleaming flesh.

The image of her fully naked body is imprinted in my head, and it only stirs the fire within me. From the moment she stepped out of the bathroom in that towel, I couldn’t stop thinking about whether there was anything between her and being completely naked—other than that towel.

And now the question has been answered. This whole time, she had been standing before me, a tiny mishap away from being revealed.

The cruelty of it was genius. Dangling the choicest meat before a starving lion, knowing he was stuck in a cage and could only fantasize.

But no cage, no shackles, and not even wild horses could have stopped me from taking that tempting mouth of hers.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmur against the wet, swollen flesh of her mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes.

I push my tongue into her inviting mouth, taking, plundering, and conquering. But it’s not enough. I don’t just want her mouth. I want all of her at my feet, begging for me and feeling even a tenth of this mindless want.

“You know what I am.” I rip my mouth from hers and drag my lips down her jaw. “You don’t want to be the object of a monster’s desire.”

“Don’t stop.”

I nip at her ear, causing her to moan. “You don’t want to be touched with these bloodstained hands.”

Tell me to stop, I plead silently. I can’t be the one to stop this now. I’m too far gone, but I’m not that much of an asshole to ever take a woman against her will.

The city is littered with women who will do anything to be able to suck my cock in the nearest alleyway. The disgust that rolls through me at the thought is startling.

With a frown, I try to imagine Dayna on her knees before me right now, but I mentally recoil from the thought. Before I can dwell on it for too long, small hands fist my shirt, and I’m dragged into a sloppy kiss.

One of my hands cups the naked flesh of her backside, cupping one cheek and causing her to freeze for a second. Then, I drag my tongue along the seams of her mouth, and she makes a desperate mewling sound.

“Push me away, Marino,” I growl. I can’t stand the thought of her being associated with the prosecutor. It’s a silly move, calling her by her pseudonym to differentiate her from the object of my revenge.

It doesn’t make her any less off-limits, but neither does it make my dick any less hard for her.

“If you don’t want to do this, then stop.” She sounds drowsy with lust, but her words are a clear challenge.

We both know neither of us can stop this. Sienna wants this as much as I do, and I’m done giving her an escape. If she wants to go down with me into the fiery pits of hell, then so be it.

“I’m not going to make love to you,” I tell her. “I’m not one of your little city boyfriends who’s going to whisper poetry in your ear and hold your hand. I’m all man. I’m going to fuck you, and there’ll be nothing respectful about it.”

Her breath hitches in her throat, and her front teeth come down on her plump bottom lip. I wait to see the indecision in her eyes. The barest hint of doubt will have me walking right out of here no matter how hard it’ll be, but to my surprise, all I see is anticipation and a need that may just rival my own.

Ah. So, the little artist wants a taste of the dark side.

We clash in an explosion of desire, her hands clutching the collar of my shirt, mine grabbing and exploring, eager to touch all of her. To feel all that smooth flesh under my calloused hands.

A thought flashes in my head that this is the ultimate revenge against the prosecutor. If he could see his precious child reduced to mindless, animalistic instinct.

Maybe…

No. I squash the thought under my mental boots.

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