Page 126 of Pretty Dark Vows

I close my eyes and repeat it over and over as I tangle my fingers in his thick dark hair, holding his head in place and moaning when he sucks hard on the delicate skin.

It fucking hurts. And it’s fucking fire.

Arousal arcs through my body, and his hands go to my ass, lifting me against him. I wrap my legs around his waist, the cold metal of the gun he always tucks in the back of his waistband a stark reminder of who he really is.

“Maddoc,” I gasp, rolling my hips as the pressure of his cock against my clit makes sparks flash at the edges of my vision.

“Gonna make you come so hard,” he promises, the hand he’s got under my ass urging me to grind harder against him.

I groan, burying my face against his shoulder as hatred battles with the fierce heat blazing inside me. I’m only vaguely aware of the dirty things he keeps whispering as he carries me away from the stairs.

Chloe’s gotten clear of the house by now. She must have. But she’s smart. She’ll keep going. She’ll trust me to find her, and the farther she gets, the safer she’ll be. So this, whatever I have to do to keep Maddoc occupied, is necessary. I need to give her as much time as I can, so that she can get as far away from this pit of traitorous vipers as possible.

Maddoc carries me into the kitchen and lowers me to my feet, attacking my mouth again like he’s feasting on something he’s denied himself for too long.He growls against my lips, his hands skimming my waist lightly enough that I know he’s being careful of the stitches despite how obviously turned on he is. Then he grabs my ass again, gripping it in a possessive hold.

I want to scream at him. He’s already hurt me where it counts, so acting like he gives a shit now, acting all careful and considerate of my injury, is nothing but another lie. Another reason to hate him.

I deliberately twist away, needing to feel the pain as the move pulls hard on my stitches.

I hope it bleeds.

But Maddoc doesn’t let me get far. He grabs me again, his lips and tongue and teeth working their way down my throat and driving the pain into the background. Pure sensation, electric and sharp, shoots through me like lightning, straight down to my core.

“Fuck,” I gasp, hating how good it feels.

Maddoc laughs, low and dirty, as he carries me through the kitchen. We crash into one of the stools at the island, and it wobbles, almost toppling to the floor. It stays upright, thank fuck, and Maddoc’s tongue traces the throbbing pulse point on my neck as he sets me down on the counter next to the fridge. One of his hands stays at my waist while the other pins my wrists against the cabinet above me.

“I’ve been going fucking crazy,” he mutters. “You drive me goddamn crazy, butterfly, do you know that? Never been so tempted to break every one of my rules.”

“So break them,” I pant, a challenge in my voice.

He groans against my mouth and lets go of my hip to delve his hand into my panties, sliding his fingers through my folds. I’m wet already, and we both moan at the feel of it as he presses a finger inside me. He slides it deep, and even though it’s not as thick as his cock would be, the intrusion makes my inner walls clench down tightly around him as he pumps it in and out a few times.

Using my arousal to slick the way, he circles my clit with the finger that was just inside me. Once. Twice. The third time, I buck against his hand, my fingernails digging into his shoulders, and he flicks my clit in response. I can’t tell if it’s meant to be a punishment or a reward, but the sparks of pleasure cascading through my body really don’t care what it is.

“Lose the shirt,” Maddoc commands, letting go of my wrists to allow me to pull off the thin t-shirt.

As it drops to the floor, he tugs sharply at my panties, sliding them down my legs and tossing them away.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs once I’m fully naked, running his hands over my body with a firm, possessive touch. “Been wanting this for way too fucking long.”

He cups my breasts, thumbs rubbing harshly over my pebbled nipples, and I bite my lip to try to control my reaction to him. The way he’s touching me, rough and possessive and unrestrained, would be fucking perfect… if it were anyone else but him.

If it were any moment but this.

Instead, it’s torture.

It’s too fucking much, now that I know it’s all built on lies.

Tears leak from my eyes, and I kiss him hard to distract both him and myself, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants.

“Fuck.” He bites out the word, grabbing my hand to stop me. “Easy. I’m not coming in my pants tonight, butterfly. Not when I’ve got you right where I’ve been wanting ever since you came to our house.”

Taking a small step back from me, he tugs the gun he almost always has with him from the waistband of his pants, setting it down on the counter before kicking off the gray sweats and his boxer briefs.

Then he moves like lightning, spinning me around and planting a hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me down over the counter as he leans over me. He rubs his thick cockhead along my wet slit as he nudges my legs apart.

“Fucking need this,” he mutters, lining himself up. “You want me to fuck you? You want my cock?”

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