Page 63 of Illicit Heir

He quietly states, "I have every reason to be here."

"Ya have none," I insist.

"I do. You're my reason."

My pulse skyrockets. I blurt out, "Why are ya doing this?"

He calmly orders, "Let's go upstairs, Lauren."

My insides quiver harder. I don't say anything, scared of giving in to his request but also petrified of not.

He needs to leave.

No good can come of anything between us.

He leans closer. "Tell me you haven't thought about me, Lauren. Tell me you haven't, and I'll go if that's what you want."

My mind tells me to lie. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

He takes his thumb, traces my bottom lip, and curls his fingers tighter around my throat. His voice deepens as he asks, "Ya know what I remember?"

I can't understand why he's doing this to me and why I can't just push him out the door.

I need to fight harder.

I don't want to.

He needs to go.

I want him to stay.

He continues, "I remember your moans and your cries and the way your body gripped mine. I remember ya telling me to choke ya as ya came hard on my cock and how ya reacted with my lips around your pussy. Remember that, my little vixen?"

An explosion of endorphins fills my body, and I hate myself for it. Tingles race down my spine to my core and I squeeze my thighs tighter.

It's like Devin knows. He moves his hand off my mouth and slides it into my pants.

I gasp as his finger slides into me. He presses his thumb against my clit and starts circling it.

"What are ya doing?" I ask in a shaky whisper.

"Shh. Do ya remember me now? Do ya remember what we're like together?"

I swallow hard against the palm of his hand.

His lips twitch. He brings them to my ear. "I've thought about ya. Too many hours to count, I've thought about us and what we were like. Now tell me one more time to go, and I will. But I think ya want what only I can give ya." He presses his thumb harder against me, and my knees buckle, but his body is pressed against mine.

It's just like how I was pinned to the cold wall when Caleb was here. But unlike the disgust I felt earlier, only desire surges through me with Devin. And it shouldn't.

"Jesus, you're arrogant," I mumble.

Tell him to leave.

Order him to take his hands off me, leave, and never return.

I can't get the words out, no matter how hard I try. All I smell is his woodsy Meghann scent, and I feel his heart beating faster.

He continues, "I've gotten a bit obsessed about ya, lass. Does that not mean anything to ya?"

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