fantasized about for too long. Everything below his waistband tightened and pulsed as he stared into her eyes and saw her own carnal cravings reflecting back at him. Flecks of gold glittered in her green eyes, and her full, tempting lips softened and parted, as if inviting him to find out just how sweet she was inside.
He licked his own lips, so starved for the taste of her he felt as though he’d fucking die if he didn’t get the chance to experience her flavor. Kissing women, anywhere, wasn’t something he indulged in often, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to put his mouth on a woman for the sheer pleasure of it.
Sex for him was always quick and uncomplicated, focusing more on his body’s needs and chasing that intoxicating high that rushed through him at the peak of orgasm. That physical release allowed him to forget the pain and torment that was always lurking just below the surface, just waiting for a moment of weakness to consume and ravage him.
As a result, his sexual urges were dark and dominant and aggressive. He liked control, and he’d only hooked up with women who wanted the same thing and gave it up willingly, without any expectations. Easy women who made it simple to fuck them and walk away without any emotional involvement.
He’d long ago recognized that out of narcotics, sex, and alcohol, fucking was his self-medicating drug of choice, and his way of coping with the self-destructive urges that threatened to drag him into the depths of a worse kind of hell. But like with any high, the relief was only temporary, and too many times, the aftermath of his actions were rife with regrets and self-loathing. It was a vicious cycle he couldn’t seem to escape.
But right now, in this moment with Katrina, he wasn’t looking to forget or escape anything. No, he wanted to document every single trembling breath she took, wanted to memorize the flush on her face and the way her pupils dilated with lust the longer they stood in this position, with his cock aching to be inside her. He wanted to remember how small and perfect her soft curves felt pressed against his straining dick, how her increasingly erratic breathing caused her breasts to lift and quiver as the undeniable anticipation between them escalated, second by second. He wanted to bury his face against her neck, inhale her heady female scent, and lose himself in her sweet, luscious body.
Except there would be nothing sweet about the way he took her. He didn’t know how to do slow or gentle or romantic. When he fucked, he was rough and hard and demanding. Katrina was the one good thing in his life, and he never wanted to taint her with his perverse need to use sex, to use her, to ease all those underlying raging emotions from the past that he struggled to keep buried so he didn’t hurt anyone or anything.
Especially Katrina.
But as their battle of wills continued, despite the gradual softening changes in her body language, a part of him couldn’t deny how much he needed this woman, how badly he ached to be a part of her, in a dozen different ways that were so goddamn wrong he was a prick for even contemplating corrupting her.
But then she made a soft, aroused sound of need in the back of her throat, and his control wavered as an answering fever thrummed through his veins and the beat of his heart echoed louder and louder in his ears. The intensity between them became a tangible thing, until she turned her head away, finally breaking eye contact with him.
And he hated it. Hated that she was trying to shut him out and ignore this fire smoldering between them. He moved one of his hands, his fingers touching the side of her face while his thumb skimmed along her lush, damp bottom lip.
“Look at me, Katrina,” he demanded softly. This was no longer about their argument or extracting an explanation. No, this was something altogether different, and he was fucking helpless to resist the temptation beckoning to him.
Much to his surprise, she exhaled a shuddering breath that made her breasts tremble and obeyed his command. When her soft green gaze met his once again, he knew he was done for. Gone. Lost. Those beautiful eyes, they saw into the deepest, darkest part of his soul. They always had, and in this moment, he felt so open, exposed, and vulnerable.
She swallowed hard, the hands at her sides coming up to his chest, where she lightly gripped his T-shirt in her fists. Conflicting emotions flashed in her eyes, and he knew she was struggling to deny what they both clearly wanted. What they both needed.
“Mason . . .” Her voice sounded strangled and uncertain.
He didn’t want to hear any excuses. Didn’t want to give either of them a chance to stop what was about to happen. Without thinking of consequences, he pushed her chin up with his thumb and lowered his mouth to hers, finally taking what he’d wanted for the past twelve years.
Chapter Four
The moment their lips touched, a jolt of blistering heat shot straight to Mason’s dick and the word friends no longer applied. Because a friend wouldn’t take possession of this woman’s hot, sweet mouth and kiss her hard enough to bruise. A friend wouldn’t wrap those long, blonde strands of hair around his hand so he controlled the slant of her mouth beneath his and the depth of the kiss. And Jesus Christ, a friend definitely wouldn’t slide a hand down his rigid stomach, curl her fingers around his stiff cock, and squeeze him tight.
Right then, Mason decided that if he was going to hell for touching Katrina, for defiling her, then he was going to take the memory of this one scorching-hot encounter with him, to fantasize about again and again.
Their tongues tangled, deep and wild, and with a low, primitive growl in the back of his throat, he ground his iron-hard dick against Katrina’s palm, dying for the feel of her fingers gripping his bare flesh, stroking him until he came in her hand.
As his appetite for her grew, seducing her mouth wasn’t enough. He wanted more. With one last slow, thorough lick inside her mouth and a sexy, seductive bite on her lower lip that made her gasp and writhe against him, he finally ended the kiss and buried his face in the warm curve of her neck.
She smelled like Katrina always did, a light fragrance of cloves and spice that matched her gutsy personality and made him think of sex with her every time he inhaled the arousing scent. He nuzzled her skin and dragged his teeth along her throat, and with a sensual moan, she tipped her head back to give him all the access he wanted.
Bastard that he was, he took advantage of her invitation. He tugged on the ties that held the front of her corset together, pulling on them until they unraveled, loosening her top. With his hands gripping each side, he roughly yanked the bodice down, and since she wasn’t wearing a bra, her firm, full breasts were immediately exposed to his avid gaze.
He filled his palms with her plump flesh, kneading her breasts and lightly pinching her tight nipples until she started to pant and squirm restlessly. So damn hot and responsive. He devoured her with his eyes, and his mouth watered for a taste. The devil sitting on his shoulder whispered in his ear to do it.
He’d already come this far, and while he knew he ought to stop this madness, the moment that Katrina sank her hands into his hair and guided his mouth to her gorgeous tits, there was no way he could refuse. He bent his head and flicked his tongue across her rigid nipple. She jerked shamelessly against him again, the shift of their bodies causing one of his legs to push between her thighs. He nipped at her breast, then sucked her deep into his mouth. Clutching more of his hair until his scalp burned, she brazenly arched her back and rode the thigh wedged up against her sex in an attempt to chase her own orgasm.
Fuck, if she didn’t stop her grinding, he was going to come in his goddamn jeans—and that hadn’t happened since high school. The friction against his aching cock was so overwhelming, so good, it made him desperate to get inside her. So deep she’d never forget that he’d been there, that he’d owned her, if only for those few brief minutes.
He was selfish enough that he’d take whatever he could get.
He released her nipple, and ignoring the sound of protest she made, he removed her fingers from his hair and turned her around so she was facing the wall. He placed her hands flat on the surface and pushed he
r upper body forward, until her bared breasts were pressed against the cool wall. The position arched her back and made her delectable ass jut out like an offering.
He caressed his palm down her spine and over the soft, supple leather covering her perfect ass, and considered giving in to the urge to release a bit of his sexual aggression the way he liked best. And if he was honest with himself, he was curious to know what kind of reaction he’d get when he spanked her bottom for the sheer pleasure of it, rather than as a reprimand like earlier.