Page 6 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

My teeth sliced over her earlobe, dragging over the tiny gold and pearl stud. So classy while I fucked her like an animal.

“I’m close.” I barely heard the words, but I didn’t need them. Her body told me everything I needed to know.

“Nash.” My name was all breathy urgency and it made me ache even more.

Part of me had wondered if she even remembered who I was. But of course she did. She had to.

There was no way I could’ve craved her this way and she not even remember me.

No bloody way.

I let go of her throat to squeeze her breast, twisting her taut nipple between my fingers. One last drive into her and she went off around me, a moan escaping her before my hand clamped over her mouth. She bit me hard enough to draw blood even as her snug cunt drenched me, pulsing around me so wildly that my balls knotted.

I was at the end of my rope, and she knew it.

Her tongue swiped over the sting she’d left behind on my palm and I rocked into her one more time, burying my face in her mounds of rich girl perfumed hair. Her class was on the floor around her ankles now.

My cock drained into her unprotected pussy. I growled out a slew of words that probably made no sense. That meant something I’d never voluntarily say.

Mine. All mine.

“Your accent,” she whispered, drawing me back from whatever dark abyss I’d dropped into after my release. “It grew thicker when—”

“When I tainted you.” I bit her earlobe. “Now you smell like me. All over.”

The words jerked her to her feet. Leaving her body was like ripping off a bandage. Maximum pain, little warning.

Just like I’d entered her.

Just like I’d started all of this.

She yanked down her dress then bent to grab something. For a second, I thought she was searching for the shreds of her panties and choked off a laugh.

Instead, she grabbed her pile of shopping bags and her tiny little chihuahua-sized purse, sparing me the briefest glance before she jerked aside the screen and fled.

Not even bothering to do up my pants, I braced my elbow on the piano and smiled.

Guess the night hadn’t been a total waste after all.

Three

I slid back into the shadows.

He’d been lost to the demons tonight. The rage had been poking from his skin like razors today. He’d locked himself in the studio, then moved to the rooftop.

The place I couldn’t—wouldn’t—go.

When he escaped the fortress he’d built in the middle of New York City, I’d had no choice but to follow. It was my job to keep them at bay. Just like that night—it had been my job, but I’d failed.

I wouldn’t fail again.

No one should have to pay like I had.

Pay for the pieces of wild he could never seem to tame.

But there had never been a woman before.

Especially a woman who leaned into his darkness and shone like a lighthouse after his storms.

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