Page 63 of The Rogue and His Flower

"You’re delusional,” I reply, my heart tripping inside my chest as he drags his lips across my jaw.

“You’re turned on,” he says, before pressing his mouth against the pulse in my neck.

“I’m not,” I protest. “I’m angry.”

And turned on,but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I think you want me to trap your body like this,” he continues, grinding his hips against mine as I drag in a sharp breath at his very obvious erection, “So you can feel what you do to me. So you know how much you drive me fucking crazy.”

“You have an addiction, Dalton,” I reply, not even trying to stop him as he slides his thigh between my legs.

“Yes, to you it would fucking seem.”

“No, your need to be in control makes you possessive of me.”

“You’ve no idea,” he mutters against my skin, his tongue tasting me.

“Your need to fuck makes me attractive to you,” I continue, biting down a moan at the unholy way he’s licking my skin.

“That’s not the only reason,” he replies, gently biting down on the lobe of my ear.

“Your need to appease your ego makes me someone you want to toy with,” I breathe, chest heaving.

“No,” he insists, his teeth scraping over the tender flesh of my neck.

“None of this is what I need.”

“But it is what youwant,” he counters, his lips grazing my collarbone as he releases my hands and reaches for the hem of my miniskirt. My hands fall to my side, just hanging there.

“I didn’t say that.”

“So why aren’t you pushing me away, Daisy?”

“Because…”

“Because?” he murmurs, swirling his tongue over the dip in my neck.

Because I’m broken.

Bitter tears prick my eyes at the thought, and I hate that I feel so damn vulnerable. Logically, Iknowthat the attention Dalton is giving me right now is a knee jerk reaction to my conversation with Riley, and a byproduct of his sexual addiction and possessiveness. I know that this isn’t about him wantingme, but try telling that to the damaged little girl who still lives inside of me.

“Admit it, you can’t fight this anymore than I can,” he mutters. “That’swhy you’re not pushing me away..”

“I have flaws too,” I admit quietly, heaving out a tremulous breath, my eyes stinging with tears.

“I highly doubt that,” Dalton replies, his lips sliding back up my neck, his fingers pushing up my skirt, the heat of his hand like a trail of flames licking across my skin.

A low, desperate moan escapes my lips as I whisper, “I do.”

Dalton’s hand glides over my hip with a possessive hold, his fingers digging in as he presses the firm muscle of his thigh against my aching pussy. The sensation sets me on fire, making me writhe and yearn for more.

"Oh God," I gasp, seeking pleasure, ignoring everything else.

“Tell me about your flaws, Daisy,” he commands, his voice gravelly and intense, just like painful little stones beneath bare feet. “Tell me what you’ve been hiding beneath that sweetness you extend to everyone but me, and whilst you do, keep using my thigh to get yourself off.”

With each word, his fingers squeeze and knead my arse, driving me closer to the edge as my body moves uncontrollably against his thigh, pleasure building as I rock against him.

It’s wrong, but I can’t stop. I can’t.

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