Page 27 of Like a Hurricane

“Safe!?” She shrieks.

“Get changed, Arryn. I’ll make breakfast.”

“Is it drugged?” She sneers at my back.

“If you keep with this damn attitude,” I throw over my shoulder, “It will be.”

I hear her stomp like an angry child to the bathroom and then she slams and locks the door. I knew the window in there was too small for her to climb through, so I don’t go and demand she leaves it open and get on with getting changed myself, and then finish up the breakfast I’d started before the tussle in the snow. The shower turns on a moment later, the old pipes in the cabin sputtering to life as the water heats, but then five minutes pass, ten and then fifteen and she still isn’t out.

The breakfast is plated, the coffee brewed and on the small oak table, but she’s still in the shower.

I wipe my hands on a towel as I cross the short space and rap my knuckles on the door, “Arryn?”

“Fuck off!” She snaps.

Whistling as I walk away from the door, I head to the kitchen sink and twist the cold tap on to full, waiting a few seconds before –

A shrill scream echoes through the cabin as cold water rushes out of the shower head.

The door flies open a moment later and Arryn, burning red with her anger storms towards me, “You fucking asshole!” She swings a fist.

“So fucking violent, princess,” I grab her wrist before her hand ever makes contact and have her pinned under me on the sofa in the next second.

Her towel falls open, bearing her perfectly delectable body, all toned muscles, and curves to sink my teeth into.

“I have to warn you, your fight turns me on.” I let my eyes lick down her body where it’s pinned beneath mine. “It kinda feels like flirting. Are you flirting with me princess? You don’t need to go to so much trouble, I’m yours.”

Her breath saws from her lungs as her jaw pops with how hard she is gritting her teeth. “It’s okay,” I muse, letting myself closer, close enough I can bury my face into the side of her neck, “You’re allowed to react to me.” I say, feeling the heels of her feet pressing into my ass but not kicking, instead is pulling me closer. Her warm pussy presses into my hard cock and I grind forward.

She lets out a shocked gasp, tilting her face to the side as I lick up the column of her throat, “Keep this violence, little storm, keep your fight.”

“Get off me,” She groans.

She wraps her legs around my waist, a complete contradiction to her demand for me to get off, and presses herself up and against the aching length behind my sweats.

I just about lose a couple of brain cells with how good it feels. Her hands slide up my back and then into my hair as she tugs on the strands. And then in the next minute, I’m on my fucking back on the floor in front of the couch, and her very naked body is straddling mine.

She glares down at me, chest heaving, nipples peaked and chest beautifully flushed. My hands land on her thighs and I give them a squeeze, the flesh yielding beneath my unforgiving grip.

She leans towards me, grinding herself over my length and my mouth parts. Fuck, I wanted to be inside this woman. Now.

Her nose touches mines, lips a barely there whisper against my mouth, “If you think for one fucking minute, Everett Avery, that I’ll let you touch me like that again, then I worry I hit you hard enough to cause damage. I can assure you, you’ll never fucking have me again.”

I laugh against her mouth, licking my tongue against the seam of her lips, “Is that right, princess?”

“Yes,” She hisses.

“Then why are you grinding your wet little cunt all over my cock?”

Chapter Thirteen

She clambers off me so quickly you’d think my ass was on fire and then snatches up the towel from the couch, wrapping it back around herself as she glares at me.

“Just for the record,” she hisses with enough venom to rival a viper, “I wasn’t fucking wet. Around you I’m drier than the Sahara Desert.”

“You keep telling yourself that, princess,” I call to her retreating form, “This wet spot on my sweats tells me otherwise.”

“I just got out of the shower!” She argues.

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