Page 82 of The Invite
The items almost slip from my hand when he maneuvers one of his legs between mine and with his big palm on my hip yanks me forward. I have no choice but to straddle his muscular thigh.
A zap of lust shoots straight to my pussy at the contact against the rough denim.
It becomes ten times harder to concentrate.
His lips let my sensitive nipple go with a loud pop.
Leaning back, he watches in his unnerving way as I apply the cream. A rough exhale from him ruffles my hair. I soften my strokes and grab the bandage. His fingers tease along my spine as I roll it around his palm. I do it a couple of times until the wound is covered and finish dressing it.
“You should get it checked out as a precaution,” I murmur to him.
Silence falls and I wait for his hold to loosen so I can get up.
Instead, he brings me closer to his bare chest. I clutch his shoulders to not lose my balance. God! He’s thick and big everywhere.
“You need a shower,” he states.
That’s when I notice my state. I’m covered in blood, cum running down my thighs, my nipples red and swollen from his teeth, while the rest of me is flushed.
Ignoring all of it, I mutter off-handedly to him, “And you need to leave.”
Using his index finger and thumb of his bandaged hand, he tips my chin until I peer at him. “Tonight was a truce.”
So, tonight was different for him too. It wasn’t just my delusion.
“Come tomorrow, don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
The knife thing was easy?Easy?
I have half a mind to pinch his wound that I spent the last few minutes taking care of. He doesn’t deserve my kindness.
My jaw clenches. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Get your phone,” he commands abruptly, lifting me off his thigh.
I stand on wobbly legs and scowl at him. “Why?”
“You’re canceling the favor with Ace.”
“It’s late.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snaps at my excuse.
Unbelievable. I’ve learned by now that he won’t leave until he gets his way. Fuming quietly, I turn around to go into the closet to cover my nude body first. His whipping command halts me.
“Naked, Miss Nessa.”
I switch directions without sparing him a glance and march downstairs. I find the phone dumped in the hallway where Augustus sneaked up on me. Picking it up, I see it’s after one a.m. but there’s no avoiding disturbing Ace.
By the time I return upstairs, Augustus is dressed and standing up. All his walls are also back up as if he didn’t just spend the night helping me fight my fear of knives in the most hazardous way.
You let him.
“Open the chat and give it to me,” he orders.
I clutch the phone tighter. “I can tell him myself.”
“Don’t test my patience, little prey, unless you want me to spend the night here.”
