Page 82 of Bad Blood
“You’re lying to me again,” he accuses harshly.
“Fuck you!”
“Good idea.”
Just then, the elevator gives a lurch. It may as well have snapped its wires for all the self-control left inside the carriage.
It’s hard to tell who moves first.Who started this war first?But suddenly, I’m full of him again. Possessive, strained kisses that drive his tongue so deep into my mouth, there’s no amount ofAñejothat’s going to burn this memory away.
In turn, I take my anger out on his body—twisting my fingers into his thick black hair and yanking hard. He groans, spilling Spanish curses and filthy words into our kiss as the heat between my legs ignites into a pulsing inferno.
Sliding his hands to my ass, he lifts me up, forcing my legs around his waist, and pins me against the carriage wall.
“If you ever…”
Kiss
“Laugh like that with another man again…”
Kiss
“I will fucking murder him…”
Kiss.
“And then I will fucking murder you.”
Kiss.
“That’s if you can catch me,” I rasp, tipping my head back to offer him my throat for the killer finale.
Somewhere in the distance, the doorsdingopen again.
He carries me wrapped around him like this into his apartment, shouting at his security guards to avert their eyes as we pass.
Kicking the door shut, he lays me down on the table in the middle of the hallway, rips at my jeans and panties, and then sinks to his knees between my legs.
“I thought I was the one who had to beg,” I pant, lifting my head.
Our gazes meet.
Our worlds collide.
“Oh, you’ll beg,mi amada,” he says with an evil smile, spreading my legs even wider for him. “I won’t stop devouring this pussy until you do, and then I’m turning you over and tongue-fucking your ass until you forget you ever had a name before Carrera.”
All of my thoughts fragment, except one.
“What about…?”
“I can wait,” he says, guessing at my question. “Because when you're ready to take my cock... when you come to me willingly... I know that your innocence will be worth every second spent desiring it.”
I’d never stopped to consider how it would feel to have a man kissing medown there, but when his tongue paints a hard line up through my folds, I don’t recall much of anything anymore. When he wraps his lips around my clit and draws hard, the universe ceases to exist.
When he wrings his first orgasm out of me so violently my back arches up from the table and his name becomes permanently tattooed on my lips, I think I’ve reached oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Santi
