Tortured Duchess (Adair Legacy)

Ashton

I hear her.

Loud and fucking clear.

Her doubt. The pain caused by false promises and weak men.

I’m going to show Hadley Adair that being with me means I keep every fucking promise I make, and there ain’t shit that will drive me away from her. Not even a gun-toting father who will kill me if I break her heart.

Claiming her lips with such aggression was only meant to show her that I’m here for good; instead, my wayward dick decides to make his presence known and grind into her tight heat. I’m larger than average, and I know I’ll have to work her good to get her ready for me, but fuck do I look forward to that challenge.

For now, I’ll keep stealing as many kisses from her as I can just to hear her delicious moans, even when she's inclined to fight me.

Drawing back from her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. “Where’s this fucking appointment?” I snap. I want her all to myself.

She’s dazed as she answers, or I think she would have lied to me. “Starbucks.”

My bark of laughter pulls her from her haze, and I drop my head to lean against her chest, laying small kisses on her flesh. “Please fucking change,” I plead. She’s too damned innocent in this outfit. Fucking suspenders. Who wears those?

“No,” she grits out.

Licking along her collarbone, she wiggles in my hold. I can’t help myself when my mouth clamps around the subtle curve of her delicate neck, and I suck until I’m positive I’ve left a mark.

“Did you just give me a hickey?” Letting her slide down to her feet, I lick my lips. “You ass. The last time I had one of–”

“If you finish that sentence, I can’t promise I won’t tan your ass, tie you to my bed, then go find the son-of-a-bitch and toss him in a swamp with some gators and be perfectly okay with it.” I snarl the words a little harsher than I mean to.

As she stares up at me, her short stature accentuates the struggle between desire and indignation. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” I challenge her.

“Then you better go find Damien Sutton. See how well that goes over.”

“Christ, little girl, you sure like to push the limits, don’t you?” Her delicate shrug draws my attention to her perky nipples. “You’re not wearing a fucking bra,” I growl, unsure whether I like it or not.

The girl doesn’t even bother to answer me as she slips from my grasp and climbs into her SUV, locking the door behind her as she starts it. Rolling her window down a crack, she tells me, “If you want me, you need to understand you won’t be changing me.”

Her statement is loaded with much more than my demands to change her clothes. Someone fucked with her, and I plan to find out who. Before today, I could confidently say I wasn’t a killer. I run nightclubs. I have guys who will bust kneecaps when someone thinks they can bring drugs in or hurt the girls that like to dance there. Now, though? I’d like to find whoever shook Hadley’s world and show them just why you don’t fuck with what’s mine.

As Hadley peels out of the driveway, I hear her father cursing behind me as I head to my car and follow after this girl who has my head spinning.