Page 64 of Illicit Heir

I'm happy he's thought about me. Lord knows I've thought enough about him, but I should only be angry he's here. So I scold myself again. Yet no amount of reprimanding can stop the thirst I have for a repeat of our previous encounter.

He licks my lobe, curls his finger inside me, and my body shudders. "That's my good lass. Such a good angel. Now, do ya want to go upstairs or stay down here?"

I don't move. I'm too scared.

He keeps working my body and heat flies to my cheeks. He kisses my neck, and shivers run down my spine at lightning speed, making me moan.

"Fuck, I've dreamt of your sounds. No matter how much I tried to relive it, nothing is as good as hearing ya in person. Now, upstairs or here?" he asks again.

I stay frozen, even though adrenaline lights up every cell in my body.

He nibbles on my lobe, working my clit harder. An orgasm hits me, filling me with endorphins. I whimper, shaking all over. My eyes roll, and my knees fully buckle.

The only things holding me up are the wall and his body. His grip around my throat gets tighter the longer he maintains my orgasm. He stops from fully cutting off my air supply, murmuring in my ear, "Ya get everything ya want when ya choose whether ya want it here or upstairs." He stops manipulating my lower body and loosens his grip on my neck so I can speak, ordering, "Tell me now, Lauren. Upstairs or here?"

I swallow hard.

He removes his hand from my body, shoves his finger in my mouth, and I automatically suck on it, tasting my arousal. It's just an aphrodisiac making me want more.

He demands, "Tell me. Tell me now, my vixen. Upstairs or here?"

I finally cave. I know what I want. It's the only thing I've wanted since he left. "Upstairs," comes out of my mouth, and I curse myself the moment it does, knowing I shouldn't be doing any of this.

He kisses me and pulls back.

I quickly blurt out, "Ya need to go."

His eyes narrow. "That's not what ya want. Ya just told me upstairs."

I close my eyes.

His fingertips caress the back of my neck. He demands, "What's it going to be, Lauren? Do ya really want me to walk out of here tonight, or do you want one more night together?"

I can't speak. I'm afraid of telling him to go and also telling him to stay.

It's like he knows. He reaches behind my body, palms my ass with both hands, and picks me up. He kisses me, and I wrap my limbs around him tighter than ever before, unable to stop myself from returning his affection with vigor.

Everything he does creates life within me. And I hate myself for the fact that this man, my enemy, the one who tricked me, who shouldn't be here, and who can cause a lot of damage to my life, feels like he's meant to be with me.

Before I know it, he's carrying me up the stairs effortlessly. He shuts my bedroom door. I barely hear the lock click.

He puts me on the bed, ripping my T-shirt off me before I can even get it over my head.

"Jesus," I cry out.

He shoves his tongue in my mouth, shutting me up, rolling it like a masterpiece against mine.

I sink into his body. He only takes a breather to tug his own shirt over his head. He tosses it on the floor. And when my skin hits his warm flesh, I whimper.

"Ah, ya feel good, angel. Just like before but better than I imagined. Isn't the real thing better than just the memory?" he asks.

I can't deny it. I nod and slide my hand into his hair, pulling him back to me. I don't know how he does it. But between his knee and his foot, he tugs my jeans off as well as his own, never taking his lips off mine.

And then he's in me, thrusting. Filling me, teasing me, and dominating me the way no one else does or ever has.

He mumbles, "Don't hold back, my vixen. I want to hear you."

He reaches again for my neck. The air begins to close off around me, and he thrusts harder and deeper, pushing my chin back until I'm staring at the headboard, unable to breathe.

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