The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

His fingers glided up the outsides of my legs, drawing my dress upward until a glimpse of my white thong showed at the junction of my thighs. He dropped his gaze, and the warmth of it seared through the material, brushing my clit as strongly as if he’d touched me there. Heat tugged in my lower stomach. I rolled my hips, closing the small distance between us, trying to find some relief from the ache inside.

A car alarm sounded from somewhere on the street, but the noise barely registered as his eyes followed his hands over my body. He wasn’t kissing me anymore. Just touching me, in the soft sound of our breaths and the patter of rain.

He was rough yet meticulous in his movements, as if he was infatuated with every curve and dip but hated himself for it. He slid a palm lower to grab a handful of my ass, and then he placed a slap on my cheek, caressing the sting with a rough palm.

A low moan traveled up my throat, and I lightly bit down on his chest to keep it in. My insides liquefied, my limbs light as air, while I let this man touch my body without even kissing me in return. There was something so filthy about it, so far from romantic—it was making me hotter than I’d ever been.

He rubbed the string between my cheeks, up and down, pausing just before reaching the wet material between my thighs. I couldn’t breathe as every nerve in my body waited in anticipation for how low he would go. Desperation was eating away at me, burning and clawing at my insides. I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Christian . . .”

His eyes were dark enough to emanate one of my nightmares. They fell to my mouth. He braced his hands on the car on either side of me and leaned in. I was so sure he was going to kiss me, I shook with the anticipation of it, but instead of meeting my lips, he placed a single kiss on my neck.

“If you ran, Gianna . . .” The words were malicious yet somehow as soft and desperate as sex in a war-torn field. He pressed his lips to my ear. “I would find you.”

I broke out in shivers.

And drag me back? was what I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t find the voice.

At this point, I didn’t care what he said. I wanted him so badly I trembled. I could attribute it to the fact it had been too long since I’d had sex or even been touched for that matter, but I knew that wasn’t the only reason. No matter how much I hated him, this man had always done something for me.

Cupping his erection, I slid my hand up and down his length, from base to tip.

He drew in a rough breath between his teeth, dropping his gaze to watch me rub him off through his pants.

I’d never thought another man’s hard-on was so hot in my life. Just the weight of it filling my palm sent a hazy wave of lust through my blood.

While he was distracted watching the movement of my hand, I rose to my toes and kissed him. A rumble resounded in his chest, half-groan, half-growl, as my tongue met his only once—a hot, wet sweep—and then I pulled away before he could.

I came back breathless. And a bit delirious.

The urge hit me so strongly my mouth watered. I didn’t care that it was two o’clock in the afternoon on a Sunday, or that we stood in a public parking garage. I wanted him in my mouth, even if it was all I could get. I worked on his belt buckle with every intention of dropping to my knees right here.

He made a tortured noise and muttered some thick Russian word. Before I could lower myself, he spun me around and pushed my front against the trunk of his car. I gasped but swallowed it as the heat of his body met my back.

He pulled my hair to one side and pressed his face into my neck. A shudder erupted beneath my skin, warm from his soft touch and cold from the volatile energy emanating from him.

“I thought you were done with me, Gianna.”

Oh.

I was. I am, I wanted to say, but the press of his lips against the hollow of my ear stole my breath and voice. All I could do was shake my head because I couldn’t bear to let this end, not yet.

“Say it.”

I shook my head again, but my mouth betrayed me. “I’m not.”

“You’re not, what?” he murmured, tracing the edge of my ear with his tongue.

Goosebumps ran down my arms.

“I’m not done with you,” I breathed. I’d always known it wouldn’t be that easy.

A growl of satisfaction against the nape of my neck, and then a little nip.

“Back seat.”

I listened to the command without a single thought, but before I could get far, a snag caught my sleeve and ripped the jacket off me in one smooth move. I turned my head just in time to see it landing in a puddle on the ground.