Page 431 of Hell Hath No Fury
What am I thinking?
I’m not.
That much is clear.
How could I have one logical thought when his eyes are on me like that?
Like he wants to cherish this moment and call it his own?
My chest heaves slowly up and down, as I take matters into my own hands. With our eyes locked on one another, my arms drop from around his neck, my hands slowly going to his shirt. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as I unbutton the first button on his shirt, followed by another and then another. The sound of my heart jackhammering is almost deafening, but still I trudge on until all of his buttons are undone. The sliver of his tan skinfrom neck to navel tantalizes me, and before I can stop myself, I’m tugging his shirt off his broad shoulders completely.
Dear sweet mother of God!
Suddenly the word my sister used to describe her latest infatuation makes sense to me now.
Owen is an Adonis, blessed by the gods in every way.
My teeth bite down at the corner of my bottom lip as my fingers trail down his mouth-watering chest, all abs and muscles, lean and strong. He hisses at my touch but doesn’t do anything to stop my curious exploration of his body. It’s only when my nails leave a red trail on his skin that I feel his hard shaft poke my ass, telling me he loves my mark on him as much as he loved leaving his on me.
I’m sure my neck will have the world’s largest hickey in the morning, but a little make-up will hide that right up. The deep claw marks I’m going to leave on him though will be harder to hide.
“You’re smirking,” he notices. “Don’t like what you see?”
“Are you fishing for a compliment?” I tease, still stroking my fingers on his bare chest.
“The way your eyes are sparkling right now is compliment enough. I’ve never seen them do that before.”
“Maybe you weren’t paying attention,” I taunt.
“Believe me, that shit is going to chance. Now take your dress off, sweetheart. Let me see what else I’ve been missing out on.”
His gentle order doesn’t feel like a command, but more like a desperate plea. As if he’s at the very brink, and all he needs is a little push to set him off. We both stand on the ledge, anticipation making the summer night air crackle with electricity around us. With trembling fingers, I hook my hands at the hem of my dress and take it off me in one smooth pull.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his cock fully stabbing me in the ass now. “I knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath that thing.”
“Disappointed?”
“More like fucking elated. Jesus, Col. You’re…you’re fucking exquisite.”
I’m not the kind of woman who preens, but God help me, that’s exactly what I do after such praise. Or maybe it’s because he didn’t call me princess or sweetheart but used the abbreviation of my name that he used to call me by when we were kids.
“Shit. I don’t know where to start,” he half chuckles, half groans.
I pick his hand up to my lips and place a chaste kiss at the center of his palm, before shoving it in between my thighs.
“Start here.”
His eyes widen, his fingers immediately stroking my already wet core.
“You’re drenched, Col,” he grunts, his expression morphing to one of unadulterated lust. “Was your pussy like this all night, or did it get wet fighting with me?”
I don’t answer the loaded question.
I don’t have to.
He knows it did.
“Remind me to fight with you more often,” he snickers, his nimble fingers toying with my clit like he knows its every secret.
