Wounded Beast (Gypsy Heroes)

I wave a hand in the air. ‘Don’t worry, you can go. I’ll be fine. I always use the stairs, anyway.’

He looks down at me expressionlessly. ‘I took the stairs when I came up to get you. I can’t do bad smells. I only used the lift on the way down because of your high heels.’

‘Oh!’ I exclaim, blinking fast enough to have a seizure. ‘All right, if you’re sure,’ I say airily, and, turning away from him, start walking toward the stairs.

We walk up three flights of stairs without saying much. Outside my door I bend my head and rummage around in my purse for my key. I fish it out and hold it up.

‘Goodnight and thank—’ I begin brightly and then I come to a dead stop.

He’s staring at me in a way that should be outlawed. No man has ever looked at me like that. As if he’s starving and I’m triple-seared rib-eye steak. I feel the breath rush out of me and I don’t think I can remember how to take the next one. I’m still staring into his eyes with my mouth open when he takes the key out of my nerveless hand.

‘This is a grave mistake,’ I whisper.

‘I need it, and you want it,’ he says harshly.

He fits the key into the keyhole. I shake my head. ‘It’s wrong. We’ll regret it.’

He opens the door and walks me backward through it. ‘You might, I won’t.’

He kicks the door shut. I take a deep breath and his eyes drop to my heaving chest.

‘Dom,’ I breathe.

He backs me up to wall, his mouth inches away from mine. His energy is like a force field that is pressing me to the wall. A soft growl rumbles in his throat. It’s electrifying. My body responds by freezing. Blood rushes in my ears, deafening me, and every thought, sane or otherwise, flies out of my stunned brain. He cups the back of my head while his other hand comes around my waist like a band of steel and slams me into his hard body, crushing my breasts. It’s a good thing he’s holding me because my body feels boneless, as if I could melt and disappear into him.

I feel his breath waft over my face. It smells sweetish, like maraschino cherries soaked in alcohol. I’ve never felt so alive, or so vibrant, or so precious. I could have climbed mountains, flown to the stars, melted the sun. It’s as if he’s my secret dream. Something I’ve dreamed of and never known. I gasp with a mixture of shock and desire, and he clamps his lips onto my open mouth.

It’s like falling into a giant tidal wave.

And drowning. I don’t see him produce the condom, tear the foil, or even feel him fit the rubber. It’s all done while I’m sinking deeper and deeper. He snatches his mouth away. I gasp for air. Grabbing the edges of the slit in my red skirt, he rips it right up to the waist. My panties are flung, wet and torn, to the floor. His hands run down my back and over my ass, cupping and lifting me until I’m dangling off the ground at almost eye level with him. Slowly he grinds his erection against me.

Then he points his cock at my entrance and rams into me, hard. Enormous … Foreign … Dominating. The shock of the sheer size of him makes me grunt. My muscles convulse to accommodate the unexpected intrusion.

‘Does this feel wrong?’ he snarls.

I curl my legs around his thighs. ‘Fuck you,’ I spit, and squeeze his cock tight.

‘Yesssss, do that. Just like that,’ he approves hoarsely.

He withdraws and thrusts up into me, so forcefully that my body climbs the wall behind me.

‘Argh,’ I cry out, but in fact it feels fabulous. This is the way it was always meant to be.

‘Want it harder?’ he asks, his voice raspy.

‘Yeah,’ I whimper.

He slams into me again and I start to quake: Oh fuck! I’m ready to come apart—right here—right now. Electric volts shoot through my system. My body begins to tense and contract. My heart pounds so loudly I hear it from the edges of consciousness. I try to push against it, but I’m standing in the way of a juggernaut. I climax with my head thrown back and screaming. He carries on thrusting through my orgasm until with a roar he, too, climaxes. I’m still panting hard when his eyes meet mine.

We stare at each other. Enemies again.

He pulls out of me and I feel a pang. Loss. Having him inside me felt right. Without him inside me I can

think rationally again, and I’m suddenly ashamed and angry with myself. What an idiot I am.

He allows me to slide down his body, but when I try to wriggle away, his grip is steely. I quickly push the flaps of my skirt down over my throbbing sex and trembling thighs.

‘Don’t be expecting a repeat of that,’ I say through gritted teeth.