Page 22 of Dearly Betrayed

“Oh, you filthy fucking man,” I say but it’s not really a complaint.

“You’re right. And you like it.”

“We don’t know each other. We hate each other. Why are you doing this?”

“Because the moment I saw you in that wedding dress, I knew I had to have a taste of you, and why not try to find a way to coexist? One orgasm, sweet pet fox, and if I can’t achieve my goals, you can go on living as if I don’t exist.”

The bastard. It’s a stupid thing and not a real test. I should throat-punch and sprint. Instead, I open my eyes, lock onto his gaze, and nod once, feeling like a stupid fool and knowing I’m making the biggest mistake of my life, because no matter what happens here right now, no matter what he does to my body, no matter how good it feels, I will still hate him afterward.

Chapter10

Fallon

True to his word, he undresses me.

No surprises there.

What’s a shock though is the way he stares at my body. I’ve never been so exposed to a man before, but he’s practically on his knees begging me to keep taking off every little scrap of clothing I have covering my skin. And each new inch that I reveal sends him into a shiver of ecstasy like he’s going through some kind of religious experience. I half expect him to start speaking in tongues.

Instead, once I’m in only a pair of nude panties, he lays me down on the bed. My breasts puddle to either side. He unbuttons his shirt, takes it off. I make another one of those awful whimpering noises—what the hell is going on with me today—as I stare at his cut chest, at the tattoos on his skin. A hammer, a knife, a lotus flower on his heart.

He comes toward me and I turn my head, trembling in anticipation. “No kissing,” I say.

His breath is ragged. “I know.” He kisses my neck. “Everywhere but your lips. For now.”

I let out a soft moan as he moves down me. He’s taking his time—the bastard—and I’m almost ready to explode as he cups my breasts. The way he looks at me, it’s magnificent, like he’s never seen a woman so lovely in all his days. I writhe as he finally, fucking finally, licks one nipple, teasing, gentle, licks it again.

“Would you just suck it, please?” I gasp out and instantly my ears turn red.

He grins but he gives me what I want without making me suffer. He sucks one nipple hard and I moan, losing it to the pleasure as he teases the other. Then he moves over, sucks that one, teases the other with his finger, pinching gently. I’m fucking writhing under him and all he’s done is play with my tits, but it feels so good I can’t stand it anymore.

“You look more beautiful than I ever dreamed,” he whispers, voice low and erotic as his other hand slips between my legs.

I practically grind myself against his palm.

He’s going to win this game.

I don’t care.

“And you’re as charming as a rock,” I say, attempting to keep my dignity, even though that’s long gone. I lost it the moment he sucked a nipple and I made some very filthy sounds.

“I like it when you lie to me.” He sucks my nipples hard as his fingers slip beneath my panties. “My pet fox, I don’t think a woman gets this wet for a man she doesn’t find charming.”

“Physical reaction. Not at all my fault.”

“Your body is you.” His fingers slide up and down my folds. “And I’m going to make you feel good.”

“You’re very cocky, you know that?”

“I’m confident. There’s a difference.”

“How are you so sure you can make me come, huh?”

“You begged me to suck your nipple. I suspect you’ll like it even more when I tongue your clit.”

I let out a high-pitched moan. “Okay, that’s a fair assumption, but you’re forgetting something.”

“Which is?”

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