Up in Flames (Rosemary Beach 13)

As dark and twisted as that threat sounded, I was even more demented because it excited me. Just when the mix of anticipation and fear began to grow, his hand slid between my legs and cupped me with just enough pressure to cause me to cry out with relief. I ached there. His touch was all that could ease that sweet ache.

“Lift your ass,” he said, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.

I didn’t argue or pause; I did exactly as I was told.

A low chuckle filled the room. “Damn, I was hoping you’d give me a reason to lay my hand to this pale skin. To see my handprint on your flesh.”

Oh. Maybe a slap wasn’t so bad after all. It would be his mark of possession. I liked that. I wanted it.

So I wiggled my ass and held my breath.

The hard slap I assumed would be on my ass was on my inner thigh instead, and it stung. The second slap was on my back, and the sharp bite of pain was even more intense. I jerked away from him, and he growled before tossing me onto my back and sliding his hand back between my legs, filling me with several fingers. My eyes flew open, and the black of his pupils now hid any of his eyes’ hazel color. They were dark and dangerous, and it hadn’t woken me. He was still here, and I could watch him.

There was evil in those black eyes, and I wanted to draw closer. His hand worked me until I cried out his name and bucked my hips closer to him.

The slap across my face startled me and made me cry out his name at the same time. It wasn’t that it hurt, because in the moment it had been erotic. The force behind it had been enough to draw attention yet not to harm.

“Don’t move.” He barked his order, and I nodded.

Unsure if I wanted to be slapped again or not. No one had ever slapped my face. The action almost hurt my feelings, but it also made me wiggle again. Did that make me as twisted as he obviously was?

“Open those pretty legs.” His demand was smooth, and my body responded before my brain could register the warm-honey sound of his words.

“You like it when I slap you.” His voice was now as excited as it was dark.

I nodded.

“You’re soaking wet. Fuck, you’re a naughty girl.”

Then, with one rock of his hips, he was inside me. Crying out his name, I held on to his shoulders. No one had ever consumed me like he did. I clawed at his back, needing him closer, fearing that I would wake up.

Lifting both my knees, I drew him in until it hurt. His thickness and length were more than my body had experienced. The pain that came with his invasion was breathtaking, yet I wanted more. Until Gannon, I had never understood pleasure with pain.

When he pulled out of me, I had never felt so empty in my life. I grabbed for him, and he tossed me onto my stomach again. “Ass in the air,” he growled, as his hands grabbed my hips and jerked me up before entering me again. “Fuck me, Nan. Rock that ass back on me, and fuck me,” he ordered.

It hurt. It was much deeper, but I wanted it. So I did exactly as he told me, until the orgasm ripped through my body and I collapsed onto my stomach.

His roar of release faded into the distance as the darkness pulled me back in.

The sun coming through the curtains didn’t warm me. It was a cold feeling. I knew that when I opened my eyes, I would be alone in this room. My dream had been so real. I gently touched my body, feeling the tightness there from use. My mind was playing games with me. My panties were in place, and although I felt sated, I knew it was all in my head. The ache in my heart from the emptiness around me was there. Haunting me. Reminding me how alone I was. Being alone before Gannon had been easier. Before I knew what completion felt like, I had been strong.

Nothing broke me. Not having a father who didn’t want or love me, not losing my only hero to another woman, not even watching my sister become a woman worshipped by the guy I thought I loved. I had remained strong. I had been my own rock. But now . . . I didn’t want that. I wanted something I’d never have. Curling into a ball, I tried to ease the hollowness and the depression that came with it.

Major

Her name was Jill. I hadn’t even been close. Rolling over in bed, I frowned and closed my eyes when I realized Jill was still here. All that blond hair was spread out on my pillows, and she wasn’t hard to look at or wake up to, other than the fact that she was not who should be in my bed. She was a distraction.

A really damn good-looking distraction. And I liked her accent. It was really thick. She wasn’t from around here. My guess would be Mississippi or Alabama, with a twang that pronounced. When she came, she moaned in a husky tone that made my dick hard just thinking about it. I wanted that.

Hell, what would it hurt to have one more stab at her? I was going to have to focus on a woman who couldn’t care less if I was breathing today. Might as well enjoy one who liked screaming my name in that sexy drawl of hers.

Leaning over, I kissed her bare shoulder and inhaled her sweet scent. She wore some vanilla fragrance that reminded me of cookies, and I fucking loved cookies. Especially sugar cookies. I kissed my way down her arm until I made it to her flat stomach. I licked at her navel, and she began to stir.

A slow smile stretched across her sleepy face, and I liked that. I needed it. My ego needed it. Sure, she wasn’t a Nan. Not many women were, but she was damn cute. I could enjoy cute and then go back after high-maintenance, sexy-as-hell Nan.

“Morning,” I said, in a husky whisper I knew she’d like. Then I began to kiss lower, and like a good little girl, she spread her legs for me. All vanilla vanished as the smell of our sex last night lingered. That was hotter than the vanilla.

Reaching into the nightstand, I grabbed another condom and grinned to see the other two empty packages on the floor from last night. I’d worn her out, yet she was ready for more. Pretty little slut. I hadn’t even known her name, but she was ready to fuck me last night. Her daddy should have taught her that she was worth more than that.