Her Rebellion (The Rite Trilogy 2)

He lowers his face to mine, trying to ensnare me in a kiss, and I jerk away, only for him to grab my jaw. He holds me in place, his lips hovering over mine, the heat between us an inferno I can’t understand.

“I’ve been inside you.” His words heat my lips as he palms my ass with his other hand. “Only me.”

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it.” I smile up at him callously. “Because it was the first and the last time.”

“I enjoyed it very much.” The words sound like a confession, and it confuses me. “I think you did too.”

He presses his thigh between my legs, nudging them apart, and I try to shake my head in protest. “No.”

“Yes.” His fingers skate down to the hem of my dress, and then against my bare thigh. “Even now, you enjoy it.”

I hate that he’s right. I hate that my heart is beating erratically and my stomach is fluttering, and I’m secretly wishing for more all while hating myself for it. But I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.

“I don’t want sloppy seconds.” I press my hands against his chest and shove hard, surprising him as he stumbles back slightly.

It gives me the time I need to put much-needed distance between us as I dart toward the stairs, running back to the safety of my room. But Judge isn’t far behind. I can hear the clip of his shoes on the floor before his voice caresses my back.

“Mercedes.”

I ignore him as I fling myself through the doorframe, nearly tripping on my heels in the process as I attempt to slam the door in his face. He catches it with his palm, stopping the weight easily before he shoves it back open.

“I fucking hate you,” I snarl at him.

“So you’ve said.” A soft smile curves his lips. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself.”

He stalks toward me, and I move back, the predator and the prey.

“You can’t have me,” I tell him. “Stop trying.”

“I do have you.” He seizes me by the waist and holds me in an unyielding grasp, his words humming against my neck as he inhales me. “You just don’t know it yet.”

A feeble protest leaves my lips as he kisses me, rough and possessive. He’s not handling me delicately anymore. And as much as I know I should stop this, I don’t. Not even a little bit.

I moan as his tongue invades my mouth, and he drinks my shallow breaths like they own him. I want to believe it’s true, even for a second.

“Judge,” I plead, my nipples stabbing against my dress, my body aching for something I can’t quite articulate.

“I know.” He shoves my dress up over my hips and then hoists me up into his arms, carrying me over to the bed.

I’m somewhere between trying to find the will to argue and the need to give in when he sets me down on the edge of the mattress and kneels before me. And fuck, it’s a beautiful sight to have this powerful man brought to his knees by his want for me. But the thought enters my mind, and I can’t stop it. How many other women has he done this with? Who did he do this with last night?

“Judge,” the protest leaves my lips as he slips my thong over my ass and slides it down over my legs, careful not to entangle it on my heels before he removes it.

His palms come to rest on my thighs, spreading me apart, and I know I need to stop this insanity. I dig my fingers into his hair and he groans, sending a cascade of sparks through my body. But I still can’t forget.

“Tell me her name,” I demand.

“Who?” He kisses his way up my thighs, dragging his nose along my skin and inhaling me deeply.

A breath blows through my lips, and I shake my head, trying not to let him distract me.

“The name of the courtesan you like to fuck.”

He ignores me, continuing his sensual assault on my inner thighs as he slowly works his way inward, closer to the point of no return. But I can’t let him. I need to hear him say it.

“Tell me.” I tighten my grip on his hair. “Or so help me God, I will fuck every man who comes near me. I can assure you they won’t be hard to come by. I doubt Paolo or Raul would refuse—”

“Goddammit, Mercedes.” He nips at my thigh, and I yelp. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

I try to shove him away, but he just yanks me closer, my ass hanging off the bed as he stares straight into the glistening depths of what he already knows belongs to him.

“There is no fucking courtesan,” he growls. “Are you satisfied?”

“That’s not what you told me—” A strangled sigh chokes my words as his tongue lashes against me. “Oh, God.”

“Only I get this.” He swirls his tongue around my clit, setting off fireworks in my belly. “Say it.”

“You say it first,” I pant. “Tell me why you’re a such a fucking liar.”

“You know why I said it,” he growls. “And you believed it so easily. Fucking Christ, Mercedes. Why would I go to the Cat House when I can have you?”

His words warm me, even though they shouldn’t. It doesn’t make it any better. It proves he’s not only a liar but also a hypocrite. Saying he can have me when all he does is push me away. Those thoughts are almost enough to douse me in cold reality, but Judge’s hot tongue lashing against me makes everything else evaporate.

“Fucking say it,” he commands. “This pussy belongs to me and only me.”

“For now,” I remind him, throwing the words he loves to use back in his face. “And only because of forced proximity.”

Without warning, he yanks me against his face, burying his tongue inside me so deep I see a glimpse of heaven. Oh Jesus, he’s good at that.

Any other smart-ass remarks I might have had are lost to the sound of him eating me out. He’s feasting on me like a God, and I can’t help but give in to it.

“Lawson,” I whimper as he tortures me.

He freezes at the mention of his real name, and I freeze too. Our eyes lock and something passes between us, but I can’t identify it. It’s too powerful. Too intense to be constrained by words.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

“Lawson,” I repeat in a breathy voice.