Page 33 of Like a Hurricane

“There is no one better for you than me, little storm.”

Her lips part and her breath fans against my mouth as the TV continues to play behind me, already moved onto a new story about some dog sanctuary halfway across the country.

“You already know that don’t you princess? There is no one more perfect for you than me.”

“I don’t even like you,” she whispers.

I chuckle, “So you keep saying, but I’m certain those are just pretty lies. You just hate that you can’t hate me.”

“How do you figure that?” Her tongue traces her plump bottom lip as her eyes drop to my mouth.

“Because I’m the only man you’ve been with that can play this body like an expert musician. I am the only man willing to let you be who you are supposed to be. I don’t want to squash all this power or dim who you are supposed to be. You’re not a pretty little woman to be on an arm, you’re a woman who should lead a fucking army. And I just want to witness it.”

I lean just a little closer, my lips a whisper against hers, the touch soothing an itch I haven’t been able to scratch, “You’re no trophy, Arryn. You don’t belong behind glass walls for everyone to look at. Fight me all you like, princess, I like it when you’re a little violent but let’s not pretend you fucking hate me. You hate what I’ve done and that’s fair, but you don’t hate me.”

“I do.”

I grin as I let my mouth firmly rest against hers, waiting for the slap or punch but it doesn’t come.

I test the limit by letting my tongue run across the seam of her mouth and when she parts for me, I waste no time in deepening the kiss. I fist a handful of her hair, tugging until she follows my lead and angles her head, letting me in further. She moans into my mouth, the taste of her so damn sweet on my tongue.

One hand still tangled in her hair, I drop the other to the soft curve of her waist, letting my fingers sink into her flesh as I yank her forward, pressing every hard inch of my body into every part of hers. I capture her gasp in my mouth, forcing her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the couch and then guide her down, her legs parting to let me in as I cover her and kiss her until I’m an inch away from going feral.

The TV cuts to a commercial and sudden blaring music jolts both of us. Her teeth suddenly sink into my lip, hard, drawing blood.

“Fuck!” I yell, pulling away from her.

“Don’t ever touch me again!” She growls fiercely.

I swipe the blood from my lip with my tongue, my blood molten in my veins and don’t get me started on how hard my damn cock is.

Rolling my head side to side, I readjust myself in my sweats, looking down at where she remains sprawled on the couch. Her chest heaves and her skin is flushed and there’s no real heat behind her glare.

“Come find me when you can’t take the ache anymore, princess. I’m going to take a fucking cold shower.”

“Asshole!” Is her reply.

Chapter Sixteen

Inever used to have a problem using my hand. A quick jerk off in the shower was enough but since I’d had a taste of that little fucking hurricane, my cock in my hand wasn’t sufficing.

I rest one hand on the tiles of the shower wall, the other pumps up and down the aching shaft of my dick. And it was right fucking there, the release but it just wouldn’t happen. “Fuck!” I growl, dropping my hand, my cock aching and still damn hard.

I shut off the shower and wrap a towel around myself, throwing open the bathroom door to find Arryn on the couch, curled under a blanket with a packet of cookies on her lap. She throws a seething glare over her shoulder which abruptly falls flat as her eyes take in the water dripping down my chest and the tent I’m pitching at the front of the towel.

“Unless you’re planning on getting on your fucking knees and dealing with it, princess, I suggest you stop staring at it.”

Her mouth drops open.

“Yeah, something like that,” I comment, grabbing fresh clothes from the bag since I’d forgotten to take them into the bathroom with me, “But just over here and on your knees.” I point to the floor.

“Pig,” She grunts, turning her attention back to the TV.

I don’t bother going back to the bathroom to change, I drop the towel and step into the fresh pair of boxers and then the pants. “I’m impressed you didn’t try to escape.”

“I did.” She shrugs, stuffing a cookie into her mouth and concentrating on the TV real hard. “Shame those six fucking locks got in the way. Overkill much?”

“Well, I figured one wouldn’t hold you, and two didn’t seem like much,” I grab mugs from the cupboard to make coffee, “six seemed like a good number.”

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