Page 48 of Brutal Obsession

Get your shit together, Harper. You’re trying to escape him, not jump his bones, remember?

I gulp. The next question is the million-dollar one in this scenario.

“How…can I make it up to you?”

“Feed me breakfast.” He smiles wide, revealing the gorgeous white teeth of a killer shark.

Breakfast.That’s what Cian wants? Me in the kitchen cooking him pancakes? Is this a joke?

My eyes narrow. He’s poking fun at me, isn’t he? Cian knows I’m trying to manipulate him, and only a request this difficult would break my charade from the inside out.

“Well?” He flashes another triumphant smile to dazzling effect. “Do I have your consent?”

Never could’ve been prepared for this answer, but I guess I should be relieved he wants something so small.

“Yes.” I try to mask my disappointment.

He’s about to find out that hanging around an amazing chef doesn’t mean that I absorbed any of her talent through osmosis.

The only thing I can cook is a glass of water.

“Good.” Cian’s growl sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m starving.”

He releases the arm around the small of my back. A second later, he has both my legs folded over his shoulders.

When he drags his tongue the length of my bare-naked, needy seam, I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle a startled shriek.

Cian’s giant hands spread my thighs so he can zero in on my clit with his hungry mouth.

“Oh…” My head drops against the mattress like a bowling ball while my back curves toward the sky. “Oh, god.” The pleasure cocoons me, coming at me from all sides. Heat invades my body. Every inch of my skin must be pink and flushed.

My gasps and moans get lost beneath the noise of Cian lapping me up like an ice cream cone. I’m so thankful none of the assignments my father sent me on turned out likethis.

Miniature convulsions reverberate through my hips. With every heartbeat, orgasm swoops closer.

He nudges my clit with the tip of his nose, like an Eskimo kiss for my pleasure button. I keep gasping, but ecstasy steals air from my lungs faster than I can inhale it.

My nails dig into the mattress like knives.

My hands itch to drown themselves in the tempting dark curls tickling my inner thighs. If I were smart, I’d push him away.

Instead, I give into my urge, tangle my fingers in his soft hair, and rock my hips into his face.

When he sinks two fingers into me and curls, I cry out, the sound jagged and raw. A victorious snarl gutters in Cian’s throat, mortifying me as he grazes his teeth against my sensitive bud.

Sweet lord.

He finishes me off in three seconds, sending my hips grinding all over his perfect face. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. The way I collapse against the sheets, even though I was already lying down,breathing hard as hell, expecting to black out any moment from the sheer physical satisfaction…

This is his idea of breakfast?

That’s the only coherent thought my brain can muster in my current pleasure-drunk state. Cian’s laughing at me again. Over the roaring of my pulse in my ears, I can barely hear it. But I know what that smirk means.

He’s claiming victory.

What a fucking paradox. He just gave me an orgasm better than anything money can buy, but I feel cheap.

Cian rises from his post between my hips and, gripping the backs of my thighs, guides them closed. He’s propped on his knees, my legs upright and parallel to his hulking body, my heels resting on his shoulders.

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