Page 15 of Tangled Desires

My nails dig into my thighs, trying to ignore the pull of his words. “If you think I’m going to let you fuck me, you’re dreaming.”

“Oh, I don’t think, sugar. Iknow.” He leans in, dangerously close now, “And trust me, when we fuck? It’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

I shut my eyes, desperate to block him out, but his words seep in, sticky and insidious, painting filthy pictures I can’t unsee. Heat coils low, pooling between my legs as my thighs press together, a useless attempt to dull the ache.

“I should go,” I mutter, grasping for self-control that’s dangling by a thread.

“I think you should stay.” His voice drops to a whisper, and he turns his car off.Oh, my.“You had your fun the other night. Now it’s my turn. Seems only fair, don’t you think?”

A sharp breath escapes me as his fingers skim up my thigh, slow and deliberate. My body betrays me, shuddering under his touch like it’s been waiting for him to set it off.

“Do you ever not have anything to say?” His mouth needs a fucking mute button. It’s not helping the war raging in my head—or between my thighs.

“Nope. And if you think I talk too much now, wait until you hear me in bed.” He wiggles his eyebrows. My eyes betray me, flicking south to his groin. Now I’m picturing him naked, wondering just how big the problem is under those jeans. My thighs clench.

“Not happening,” I spit out, the words landing harder than the disgust I’m pretending to feel.

“Come on, Immy. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. The way you moan... how you made yourself come on me.” His voice is practically dripping sin into my ear.

A shudder ripples through me, thighs pressing tighter, but his hand is already there, creeping up my leg. The relentless throbbing between my legs mocks me, daring me to ignore it.

“Is that right?” my sarcasm bites. “You’ve got quite the imagination.”

“Imagination’s nothing compared to the real thing. I want you, Immy. Need you. Can’t get you out of my fucking head. Your taste, your body—”

“Ughh.” I groan, loudly.Fuck it.

I lean over the console, grab a fistful of his shirt, and yank him toward me. Our lips crash together in a fierce, desperate kiss. A guttural growl rumbles from his chest, reverberating through me like he’s some kind of wild animal. His tongue pushes past my lips, tangling with mine in a clash of heat and frustration. So much for all my words and protests—yeeted straight out the window like they never existed.

Oh, how the tables have turned. This isn’t about romance. It’s about shutting him up, burning off the tension simmering between us, and silencing the chaos in my head. Just for now.

Nothing more. Absolutely nothing. But, goddamn, it’s like a drug—raw and wild, the kind of kiss that wrecks you and makes you beg for more. The fight leaks out of me, leaving only want as he yanks his seat back. He grips my hips and lifts me like I weigh nothing over the console to straddle him. His cock, hard as a fucking steel rod, presses into me, rubbing exactly where I need it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps, his lips grazing my ear. A gasp slips out as his hips grind up, making me see stars.

“Is this all you ever think about?” Sarcasm drips from my lips, but it’s weak as hell.

“Every damn minute.” His fingers dig into my hips, guiding me against him, relentless and sure. My body rolls into him like it’s been starved.

“You’re infuriating,” I mutter, a weak jab that earns me a cocky grin.

“Infuriatingly good,” he murmurs, nipping at my ear, his teeth teasing.

Grabbing his stupidly perfect face, I press my lips back onto his, silencing him before any more words dare to come out.

It’s chaos after that. Hands everywhere—gripping, tugging, tearing at fabric. His jeans resist like they’re welded on, my fingers fumbling at the zipper while he rips his shirt over his head. His jeans finally give way, but my pants tangle around my knees like a cruel joke. Neither of us cares. He drags his hand down my stomach before they find purchase on my clit.

I bite back a gasp. The shock of his touch, fingers gliding through my folds, sends waves of heat straight up my body.

“Fuck, you’re dripping. All this for me, sugar?”

I nearly growl in impatience. His fingers push inside, slow, deliberate, and I nearly fucking lose it. The pleasure’s intense, too much, and I fight to keep the moan buried in my chest. It’s been too long since I was touched like this, a man’s hands on me, and hell, I need more. He withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a filthy sound that makes my stomach flip. “I can’t wait to have my mouth on your sweet pussy.”

“Keep dreaming, buddy. This isn’t happening again.”

Ignoring my protests, his hands move to my bra. The relief when it falls away is instant. He stares at my tits like they’ve got a fucking halo around them. His hands are rough as he cups them, and the jolt of pleasure shocks through me.

“Jesus Christ,” he growls. “Best fucking tits I’ve ever seen.”

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