Page 65 of Twisted (Never After)
She gives me a pointed look, her eyes glossy from the whiskey and her unshed tears. “I guess he’s like you and would rather just forget.”
Leaning forward, she grabs the bottle of liquor from the coffee table, refilling her glass and taking a large drink.
“Your father loves you,” I say. “He’s just a proud man. You two really aren’t that different. Both stubborn. Pigheaded. Overachievers.” I pause, not sure how she’ll take what I’m saying but wanting to rile her up anyway. Dealing with her ire is better than dealing with her realness, and I’m uncomfortable with how much I enjoyed hearing about her passion. “You’re more of a people pleaser than him though,” I add. “Must have gotten that from your mother.”
I expect her to shoot back with a smart-ass comment, one that will make me either want to murder her or bend her over and fuck the brat out of her, but she just nods, bringing the glass up to her lips again.
“Wouldn’t know. Never met her.”
“Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky,” I reply. “Moms aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
She tilts her head. “I can’t imagine your mom. Tell me about her.”
I smirk. “You can meet her if you like.”
“Okay.”
Chuckling, I stand up, my head spinning from the alcohol.
Shit.I guess it’s gotten to me more than I originally thought, and if I’m feeling the effects, she must be hammered. Moving over to the couch, I sit down next to her, my fingers brushing against hers as I pull the glass of whiskey from her hand and set it on the table.
The energy in the room shifts, heat buzzing between us, firing against the side of my thigh as it rests inches away from hers.
My stomach tightens and I swallow as I stare at her face.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
Slowly, I reach out and drag my fingers down her cheek until I’m cupping her chin. “How many times do I have to tell you to be careful what you wish for?”
Her tongue peeks out, swiping across her bottom lip,soclose to where my thumb rests just beneath the pout of her mouth. I swallow hard, my stomach twisting into knots as I hold her stare, this weird tension spreading thin like a string about to snap.
Mentally, I go over every single reason why I should let go and walk away.
She’s too young.
I’m planning to kill her.
She’s not really mine.
I don’t evenwanther to be.
But there’s something stronger taking over, and that’s what I listen to instead. Maybe later, I’ll blame it on the liquor, but for now, I’m reveling in the moment.
Her perfect mouth parts and my thumb traces along its edges, my gaze dropping to the swell of her breasts as her breathing grows heavy.
“You’re playing a dangerous game letting me touch you like this.”
Her eyes flash and she leans in, resting the weight of her face against my hand. “Maybe I like a bit of danger.”
Those words are my undoing and I unravel, leaning forward and brushing my lips against hers. She moans against my mouth, and our tongues meet, tangling and sucking and biting. It’s messy and feverish, and I feel like I can’t get close enough.
My hands reach out and wrap around her waist, dragging her into me until she’s straddling my lap, the heat of her cunt settling on top of my cock and making it throb with the need to be inside her. My hand is still cupping her cheek and I press harder, cradling her face as I kiss the fuck out of her, lost in whatever this thing is that she’s making me feel.
Her palms slide up my shoulders and around my neck until she’s threading her fingers through the hair on the nape of my neck, and goose bumps sprout down the length of my arms. It’s exhilarating, having someone touch me and not hate the way it feels.
I’ve never experienced it before. Never let it happen.
Suddenly, I’m desperate to feel her come. It’s not a want, it’s aneedto know what it feels like to have her face flush with pleasure because of me, and not just because I’m watching.
