Page 105 of Filthy Little Regrets

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” I lie, leaving before I embarrass myself.

His footsteps are soft against the rug. “I told you not to walk away from me.”

Yeah, well, I told him to go fuck himself and look at how well he listened. I quicken my pace, hitting the stairs and jogging up them. My heart thuds as Mace closes in, his presence like shadows chasing me deeper into the night, and even though I know it’s a bad idea to flee into the dark woods, I run straight toward them. I make it to the second floor before his arms band around my waist.

Air whooshes out of my lungs, my heart rate spiking and fluttering. The stupidest thing of all is, I’m not afraid of our precarious position or that we could tumble down the stairs. Mace ripping away my control sends a tremble of excitement rushing through my veins.

“Let me go,” I demand.

“No, baby. I’m going to fuck this attitude out of you.”

“I’ll kill you.” My words are all lies, but I don’t know how to admit that he’s right withoutsacrificing my dignity.

“You might,” he says, dropping me to my feet in the middle of the mezzanine, his arms still pinning me to his chest. “But I’d die happy buried in your cunt.”

A riot of heat swoops to my core, and my walls clench, desperate to feel him inside of me.I’m seriously messed up.

“Hands on the railing,” he demands.

Reaching forward and bending at the hip, I slap my palms on the wooden rail, glaring at him over my shoulder. “Happy?” My ass brushes against his hardened length. Anticipation warms me from head to toe.

Mace’s gaze bores into mine. “No.” He yanks my shorts and thong down with one rough tug. The fabric drags over my skin, but delight whispers up my spine. Mace smooths his palms over my ass. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

Damn him. Why couldn’t he be heartless? My lips press together, and approval glitters in his gaze. The bastard knows he has me. He uses one hand to undo his belt buckle and pull it off. In the next second, his pants and boxers are falling down his legs, and I peruse his body. His cock is hard as a rock and the lighting glints off his piercings.

“I’m not going to be gentle tonight,” he murmurs, slipping one hand between my legs and teasing my wetness. “That’s not what you need, though, is it?” He pinches my clit.

“Fuck you!” I lurch toward the railing and he chuckles.

“No, baby,I’mgoing to fuckyou.” He kicks my ankles open, and I gasp. The tip of his cock presses against my entrance. “Hold on.”

My fingers tighten around the wood. He buries himself balls deep in the first thrust. A throaty cry tumbles out of me, the girth of him stretching me, pushing me to mylimits. The piercings ribbing his length are the cherry on top of the perfect sundae. He feels so fucking good.

“You’re so wet for me, Cassia,” he says, pulling all the way out and thrusting deep again. “I thought you hated me? Isn’t that what you always say?”

“I do,” I tell him, grinding my teeth.

“No, you don’t,” he says, grinding into me and leaning forward to slap one of my tits. It sways, and sensations ricochet through my chest. It should be painful.

It’s not.

“Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to fuck me?” I demand.

His answering chuckle caresses down my spine, and I have a moment of regret when he digs his hands into my hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging my head back. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble,” he growls, rearing back and slamming in hard enough to force the air out of my lungs.

“I’m going to fuck it one day,” he tells me, repeating the movement. “But, tonight, this pussy needs me.”

Grip firm in my hair and the other hand at my hip, Mace drives into me over and over, pounding into me hard and fast, stealing the thoughts from my mind until all I can focus on is how our bodies feel together. Perfection. Addictive. My body perfectly molded for him. I match his rhythm, forcing myself back when he drives in, meeting him stroke for stroke. It’s hard and rough and anything but sweet. Friction and heat build between us.

Electricity dances up my spine. The force. The extra sensations from his piercings. All of it comes together, an intricate tangle of pleasure that wraps around me.

“You like when I fuck you, don’t you?”

“God,yes,” I say on a rasping breath.

“And do you like hanging out with me?”

Fuck. There it is. Is this what this whole week has been about? Him wanting me to admit that I actually enjoy his company? Well, fine. If that’s what it’ll take, I can tell the truth. “Yes,” I confess.

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