Rule's Addiction (The House of Rule 3)

“Garrett—”

“Yeah?” He reached out and swiped her hand in his and pulled her into his torso with a force that almost knocked the breath from her.

She tilted her head and looked up at him. “I don’t think—”

He cut her off with twisted lips. “I don’t care.”

Her nipples pebbled against the material of his t-shirt. “You can’t just—”

His hand sank into her hair and a look of utter command came over his features. “Yeah, I can.”

“But I don’t want—”

“I think you do want.” The fingers in her hair threaded all the way to her scalp and tightened, holding her firmly in his grip.

Her eyes widened and she made a last desperate attempt to wriggle from his hold.

He retaliated swiftly, swinging her around until her back was against the wall. He tried to force a leg between her knees, but her skirt was pencil slim, and with a low, pained sound coming from the back of his throat, he released her scalp just long enough to jerk her skirt up around her hips. She had nothing on underneath except satin briefs, and without missing a beat, he grasped the material at her hips and ripped her panties down her legs.

He forcibly lifted one foot and then the other, tossing her underwear aside. He pushed his knee between her thighs to hold her legs open and looked down toward her nude lower half. Her eyes closing, she heard him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth.

The back of Maria’s head hit the wall, and she stood still, trying to take in oxygen as Garrett lifted a finger and trailed it down her cheek in a gentle touch that somehow made it all the more threatening. “So gorgeous,” he rasped out in a hoarse voice. “So fucking beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss her, his fingers moving to her chin and pulling it downward, giving him quick access to her mouth. Without thinking, her hands slid to his shoulders and clung. His kiss came quickly and was hard, hot, hungry, wet. Trying to fully grasp the situation, her breath hitched as heat blossomed between her thighs.

His hand snaked down with a determined path and found her slick, bare mound. At the first contact, a wave of heat slid down her spine at the same second that she felt his muscles contract under her palms, proving to her that he was just as involved in the moment. As his lips and tongue continued to ravish her mouth, his tongue plunging inside and retreating again and again, his fingers slid through her wet folds and found her clit. A coil of pure pleasure lashed out at her, and a moan escaped from the back of her throat, her hands clinging to him more tightly, trying to find stability in a world suddenly careening out of her control.

She was melting under a heady desire, and in the back of her mind, she was only glad that this was finally happening. She’d wanted this for so long, and she was glad that he was taking control, pushing them to this point. Maybe she’d never fully admitted it, but there was something that Garrett Rule had that she’d never come across in another man before. He had something, even if it was indefinable, and by God, she wanted it, or rather, her libido wanted it, even if her saner self wasn’t quite so sure.

A tickling concern came to her through the drugging of hunger clouding her head. She only had a few seconds, because in a few moments, he’d make a move for his zipper, and she knew she wasn’t going to stop him so she had to use her brain while it was still halfway functioning. Before this went any further, she broke her mouth from his and turned her head away, trying to get enough air to speak.

He pulled her face back around for his kiss, sinking his hand into her hair to hold her captive. Fireworks went off in her head, but she couldn’t let them get out of control before she’d settled this between them. She broke away again and managed to get her lips a few centimeters from his. “Garrett—”

He let her mouth go, but his forehead fell against hers and he tightened his palm into her mound, his fingers sinking into a firmer grip. “What?”

“Do you have a—”

His eyes snapped open and she saw the impatient glaze of heat surrounding his irises. “Have a what?”

“A condom,” she said softly.

As if in answer, he reached down and nipped sharply at her lower lip before grabbing one of her hands and pushing it against the wall, holding her firmly in place. He stared down at her, his eyes lit with a mercurial fever as he stated in what seemed to be recrimination, “I’ve been packing twenty-four/seven since the first moment I saw you.”