Page 47 of Burn With Me

Her dress has hitched up her hips. I grab the hem of it and pull it even higher—up and up until it catches at her waist. Only then do I stop and reach around, finding the zipper and yanking it down. The damn thing snaps under my fast movements. I don’t fucking care as I rip the straps around her neck keeping the top up. I’ll buy her a new one … and then probably shred that off her as well.

“You said you weren’t a whore,” I comment lightly as my hands move over her. She stiffens at the term, but I don’t let her get too far into her thoughts. I push her legs down and the shimmery fabric of her dress falls to the floor at my feet—along with her phone. “But I should warn you now,” I tell her, kicking away the dress and toeing the phone along with it. “I intend to make you question that tonight.”

“Isaac.” My name is a warning on her lips.

I shake my head. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” I assure her. Tonight, anyway.

“I don’t want to be treated like a whore,” she snaps as my eyes take her in.

My cock pounds behind the prison of my zipper. “Yes, you do,” I say, breathless. “Otherwise you never would’ve let me treat you like I did in the garden. Maybe you want to deny it to yourself, but some part of you loved the harshness. You liked the control you gave me. You liked the power you held.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I think you held all the power.”

“If you think that, then you weren’t paying attention.” I move against her, grabbing her hand when she means to pull away and sliding it over the front of my pants. “This is all your doing,” I tell her. “You’re the reason.”

Standing before me, wearing nothing more than a pair of peach-colored underwear and so much perfect skin, Aurora Summers looks like a goddess ready to sacrifice herself to the fires of mortal lust and desire. I decide, in this moment, that she shouldn’t ever wear clothes again. I want her naked always—cooking, studying, exercising. It doesn’t matter what she does, I just want unimpeded access to this body at all times. It’s unreasonable, I know. Impossible because the second another person sees what’s mine, I’ll go on a murdering spree, but the thought is still there.

I release her wrist and her hand remains, cupping my cock through my pants as her lashes flutter. Her breasts call to me. I touch them, sliding both hands around each one, lifting them in my grasp.

“Beautiful.” I don’t realize I’ve uttered the thought aloud until she chuckles. Her fingers retract and trail upward along my arms as I squeeze each breast in turn, flicking against her hardened nipples.They would be so pretty with a little jewelry, I think.Something to remind her of me.

“You only say that because you want to fuck them,” she says and suddenly my thoughts switch. The image of her laid flat out on her back, holding her tits together as I slide my cock between them and straight up towards her open, waiting mouth crosses my mind.

Fuck.I groan and lower my head, pressing my forehead against her shoulder. She’s gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking virgin. The first time had been nothing like this. At the party, we’d both been trying to act as someone else, hiding our true intentions. There’s none of that now. This time, she’s not doing this for some fucking revenge video.

I stand back. When Aurora lifts her gaze and meets mine, she doesn’t flinch away. She doesn’t try to cover herself or act shy or reserved. She stares back at me with expectation, and fuck if that’s not the hottest thing in the whole goddamn world. Confidence. The knowledge of her own worth and beauty. It’s a heady mixture that turns me on and makes my cock throb inside my pants.

“Turn around,” I say. “All the way. I want to see you.”

She arches a brow, but we’ve come too far now. There’s no backing out. Slowly, in small incremental movements, she pivots until she’s facing the wall. I close my eyes briefly. I didn’t get to see her like this the last time, so I couldn’t have known it then, but seeing what I see now …how the fuck have I managed to stay away from her as long as I have?

Her ass is a work of art. It’s practically begging me to get on my knees and worship it. My hands fly down to the hem of my shirt and rip it up and off, discarding it along with her dress. The belt comes flying off next, landing on the floor with a hard thump. My shoes follow. When she’s finally completed the turn, I’ve got everything but my pants off. I advance on her, and as I do, she opens her arms to reach for me.

Her legs are back around my waist, ankles locked at the small of my back as her breasts press against my pecs. “There’s no going back,” I whisper against her lips as I carry her through the penthouse.

She arches up against me, pressing herself as far into me as she can. “Good,” she replies. “Because I never look back.”

I don’t think that’s completely true. Not from what I saw earlier—in the parking lot—but perhaps she means that if she can help it, she doesn’t look back. Maybe she doesn’t want to look back but some things force her to. Whatever the case, it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that she and I, in this moment, are as connected as we’ve ever been and there’s no prying us apart once I get inside of her the way I plan to.

Our lips meet once more, mouths clashing in a dance as old as humanity itself. She tastes amazing, like liquor and sunshine. It’s heady and addictive, just like the woman in my arms. She’s closer than she’s ever been, even at that stupid party. She might have had my dick down her throat, but she was never quite this near. I can see each and every individual freckle across her high cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. They litter her skin. Down her face. Over her shoulders. There are even a few on her upper chest, though fewer there than other areas. The result is the same—she’s been marked by the sun.

And I want to leave my own mark.

I pull away from her mouth as we enter the bedroom and then press her back into the massive king mattress across from the wall of windows that overlooks the California coast and city beneath it. My body finds its place on top of her and I come down hard, letting her feel every inch of my arousal through my pants against the small of her belly. She stiffens, at first, her breath coming out in harsh pants. I go back to that moment in the parking lot.

I raise up. “Aurora?” Her name is a question but also a comfort.

She shakes her head, unresponsive. Her body trembles against mine, but she doesn’t go back into that full-blown panic she’d been in earlier. “Open,” I command. “Look at me. Look at who’s on top of you.”

For a brief moment, her eyes remain squeezed shut and then after several tense heartbeats, her lashes flutter and she lifts them, meeting my gaze. Once again, I press down on top of her, harder. I settle myself against her in increments, waiting for any sign that she’s not okay. Her hips shift under me. Her legs part, allowing me room, giving me her unspoken permission. My lips touch her throat and I grin when she arches up, unaware of my intention.

A cry of surprise echoes from her throat as I sink my teeth into the soft, delicate flesh between her neck and shoulder, biting down hard until I’m sure there’s a perfect indentation marking her skin—one that won’t be going away anytime soon.

“Fuck!” she cries out, slamming the flat of her palm against my chest as she pushes me back slightly and reaches up to feel the wound. “That hurt.”

“Good,” I say, still grinning. Her hands turn to claws as her nails sink into my chest and she glares up at me. I arch a brow. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Want a little payback?”

Before I realize what’s happening, she hooks her leg over my hip and shoves up on one side, pushing me over. We flip and she ends up straddling me from above, her nails still digging their way into my flesh.

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