Despite my protests, I inch forward, infuriated with myself. But my lack of clothing and the cool air on my heated skin has my arousal rising. The pheromones pouring off of Charley are only making it worse. Her body’s calling me and it’s pissing me off. But I can’t stop myself from moving in on her, stalking my next meal.
A prey that wants it, though. That much is wildly fucking clear.
Charley’s breathing picks up, her tits heaving up and down, up and down. I can’t stop watching. The only way I can describe what I’m feeling for her is that I’m hungry. It’s primitive, the way I feel. I have no clue what has come over me. Like somehow, her not leaving has given me permission to take what I want.
She wants it, too.
This is odd, though. I’ve never wanted to fuck and fight at the same time. Almost as if I have crossed my wires. She infuriates me like no one ever has before, but I also want her with a ferocity and protectiveness that I’ve harbored for no other.
I’m out of my damn mind making this move. It’s only going to hurt. God, is it going to hurt.
Do I want to stop myself? No. I don’t think I do.
CHAPTER6
Riggs’eyes heat—raw lust—his eyelids hooded. He’s stalking toward me with a hunger so real on his face that can only be described as animalistic.
My heart rate kicks up a notch, and my stomach flutters with nerves. Riggs still makes me nervous. We’ve been together before, but he still makes butterflies blossom inside me. His touch will still make my skin flush and my breath catch in my lungs. If those sensations never go away when I’m with him, that’d be fine with me.
With Riggs, though, there is always that edge, keeping our relationship in its clutches. For the last month he has done nothing but reject me, but the plea in his eyes, the one that calls for help without him knowing, keeps me walking that fine line of understanding when to hold on or let go. That’s why his rejection today hasn’t worked. Why I’m still here, snared in the trap that is the explosive chemistry between us. Why I couldn’t leave when he started the shower.
Regardless of how he feels, all these emotions have to count for something, right?
Or maybe I’m the very definition of insane.
Sounds more like it.
His hands sear the skin of my exposed hips as he guides me three steps forward, and I think he is going to push me out the door when he whips it shut. I gasp, surprised.
“What are you doing, Riggs?” I ask, and I can’t lie, there is a little fear in my voice. Not that I fear him, I don’t for a second think he would intentionally hurt me. It’s just the way he’s looking at me, like he plans to devour me. I’m worried about the pain that will come when he’s through with me. How badly this will hurt when he tells me to leave again. Because I know he’s going to, and I have no clue how many times he will say it before my brain finally gives in.
When he gives you a definite direction. When his eyes are clear, not misty or pleading. That’s when.
“I would never hurt you.” His tongue snakes out, grazing my ear lobe. A violent shiver starts from the top of my head and makes its way down my body. Riggs groans, forcing his hips into me, and I let out a whimper, my animal responding to his. Because that’s the level we’ve reached. His movements are not gentle or loving.
The way he is coercing my body into the metal door, demanding it respond to his, is a claim. Riggs is claiming me.
I’m pressed up against the door, Riggs’ body flush against mine, his hard length grinding against my ass. All I can hear is our ragged breathing and the rush of blood being forced through my veins. The cold door is a balm to my burning flesh. If I didn’t have that miniscule relief, I wouldn’t be able to stand the heat.
Riggs slides his hand beneath the fabric of my shirt. A part of me wants to fight him off, terrified that he is going to hurt me with the wild look in his eyes and his rough touches, but the other part of me wants this so fucking badly. I have established Riggs as something I can’t quit, even if I can’t figure out why. This isn’t how I want his touch, how I want us to come together. I want him to want this, and right now, it’s not him that wants it but the darkness living in him.
“I’m giving you what you want,” he purrs, a growling aspect to his voice. “Is this what you want, Charley? My cock? Me tofuckyou?” A long moan confirms for him just how much I want this on the same primitive level he does. We both know this isn’t good for our hearts, not the right way to connect our souls, but exactly what our bodies need.
I’m still not sure why I’m letting this happen. It’s such a stark difference from the way he handled me weeks ago, but it doesn’t make me yearn for him any less.
“I want you,” my voice cracks, an escape of my pain.
He inhales sharply, freezing for a second with one hand slipping down the front of my pants, the other cupping my breast roughly. He lets the air out slowly, but it doesn’t calm his trembling in the slightest.
“Do you want me stripped naked, my grief so heavy across my bare chest that it burns brighter than my ink?” He asks, and I ignore the distress radiating off him when he says it.
“If that’s what helps you heal, then yes.” He slams his body against mine and his fingers dig into my clit. There is no stopping my panting as I rub my ass shamelessly against him, begging for more. My neck stings when he bites, not nibbles, but bites, so hard I know there will be marks.
I drop my head back on his shoulder, giving him room to do it again. His movements against my clit become more frequent, but no less teasing. He is well aware of what I want, what my body is asking for, but he won’t give it to me.
“I’m never going to heal, Charley. I’m broken.” It drives me nuts that he believes he is so far gone he can’t have anything good in his life. His heart is so pure, so good I ache for him.
“Bullshit. You’ve just never had the right push.” I reach back, pushing my hand between us to palm his cock. He hisses a breath between his teeth and a guttural sound escapes him. I’m not sure my Riggs is even in there right now, but this version of him… I’m here for it. “Let me be that push.”