Page 83 of Phantom Mine

I lunge after with a furious snarl. She makes it two steps before my arms close around her waist and shoulders and I slam her against the floor to ceiling windows of my bedroom. Mychest heaves against her back as I rip in angry breaths. Excited little pants leave her lips, her much smaller naked form pressed lewdly against the glass.

“Have you?” I demand.

“No!” she finally bites out.

With a victorious roar, I part her legs and slam back inside her. Valentina whines as the force of my entry sends her up onto her toes.

“That’s because you know I’m the only cock for you.” Every thrust of my hips sends her rocking into the window, her ragged breaths steaming the glass. I slam my palm down right next to her face and swipe it through the condensation, wanting to make everything that is hers, mine. Her hands come up to the window and I slam my palm down to cover one, lacing our fingers together. She squeezes them tightly as pleasure makes her fingers curl. “The only man for you,” I murmur, and she whimpers. With my other hand, I reach around between her legs and start toying with her clit in tandem with the driving of my hips. “You won’t run from this either. You’ll stay and you’ll take every inch. Every thrust. Everything I give you.”

I feel my balls tighten, desire coiling into an unyielding ball in my stomach. Valentina’s loud moans only push me higher, faster until my vision blurs. My fingers turn rougher on her clit, abrading the tight bundle of nerves until she’s shaking like a leaf against me.

“Say yes,cara.”

“Yes,” she pants, agreeing so readily it surprises me and sends a pleased shiver coursing through my body.

When I smash my palm against her clit and pinch her nipple with my other hand, Valentina explodes. She screams as her knees give out, then slumps against the glass, completely spent. I follow her right over the cliff, her tight pussy squeezing my ownorgasm out of me. It feels like it goes on forever as jet after jet of my cum spurts into the condom.

It takes long minutes for the mindless lust to clear from my eyes and my mind. When it finally does and I look down, there’s something about seeing her trapped by my body against the windows that has fresh possessiveness making a home for itself in my chest.

A dark, arrogant smirk curls the corners of my lips as I pull her against my torso by her throat. Her head tilts back and she looks up at me with exhausted, sated hazel eyes.

“I knew you didn’t want it sweet,” I purr. “Slut.”

“Whore,” she quips.

I throw my head back and laugh out loud at that, my chest rolling happily against her back. A hint of a smile is playing on her lips when I glance back at her and an airy feeling blows through me at the sight.

She’s a walking contradiction. A trained fighter, as comfortable with weapons as she is high heels, but she freezes in the middle of a shootout. A woman with an impenetrably hard outer shell and a sharp, secretive tongue, but with a gentle smile and soft, sad eyes. A wanton sex goddess who likes it rough in the bedroom, but who screams that she needs to be held outside of it.

“So much for one and done,” I tease, remembering her claim that she wouldn’t sleep with me again.

Her eyes waver, that same shadow I’d seen previously rolling through them. “Two and through?”

Smiling, I brush the hair gently away from her face. “I don’t think so.”

Valentina looks down and away from me. She slips off my cock, shoulders out of my hold, and looks at the floor for her clothes. When she remembers that they’re in pieces, her eyes go to my dresser on the other side of the room.

I dispose of the used condom in the bathroom. When I come back, she’s reaching into the middle drawer for a shirt.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I put my boxer briefs back on.

“Borrowing your clothes since you made rags out of mine,” she answers, head bent over the drawer. “Then I’m going home.” When silence meets her statement, she looks over her shoulder at me. “Did you think I was going to spend the night?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Valentina

The squaring of his jaw tells me Matteo doesn’t like that question. At all.

I slip one arm into the crisp white sleeve of his dress shirt, then the other, enjoying how big it is on me. My fingers shake as I button it closed, although I’m not sure if it’s because of the rough way Matteo just fucked me or because of what happened earlier tonight. There’s still an uneasy, jittery feeling leftover inside me from the paralyzing fear I felt when the shooting started. The panic attacks always leave invisible scars that remain in my body long after the physical symptoms have ebbed away.

“Come back tomorrow.”

Grabbing a pair of his briefs, I put those on next, making a concerted effort to avoid his gaze.

“That would be a mistake.”

“Why?” he asks. “Why can’t we have a bit of fun?”

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