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Despite her claim to hate me, her violet eyes blazed with hunger and lust as she looked at me. “Did you abuse your wife? Is that why she killed you?”
Clever little vixen. “That’s two questions, Bailey.”
She rolled her eyes.
I took another step toward her. “And I will answer them both. But I’m keeping score.”
She bit her lip. “Fine. Answer them both.”
I slid onto the foot of the bed, draping myself across it. “Yes. But not physically. We didn’t like each other much. Our marriage was forced on us by our families. She called my lack of interest abuse; I called it dissonance. And yes, that is why she killed me. Hemlock. The second I took my last living breath, everything I owned became hers alone. And I owned a lot.”
I had blocked out so many of those memories. But I could speak about them now as if they’d happened to someone else.
Bailey tapped her fingernails against her knees. “That’s one of the saddest stories I’ve ever heard.”
She had no fucking idea. I gave her the abridged version. Didn’t think it would turn her on to hear how I foamed at the mouth and my eyes bulged out of my head right before I died. “My turn. Pull your shirt down and lay back against the headboard.”
A bright rosy hue flushed across her cheeks. Her breath hitched as she pulled the straps of her top down with trembling fingers. My cock stirred at the sight of her hard nipples. They were hard for me. That’s what she was really afraid of. She didn’t want me to see how much she wanted this.
“Good girl,” I rasped. “Now I want to watch you play with them.”
She yanked her shirt back up and crossed her arms. “No. I’m not playing this game.”
This fucking brat. I scrambled across the bed and straddled her. As her closed fist came flying at my face, I caught it and pinned her wrists over her head.
“Stop being a fucking brat. You agreed.”
She twisted underneath me, grunting. “I lied.”
Fuck this. I hovered my lips over hers. “The only thing you’re lying about is how fucking hard you want me to make you cum.”
I pressed myself between her thighs. “You feel that, Bailey?” My cock throbbed against her. “Because I can feel how wet you are even through your pants.”
She took shallow breaths, sweet torturous breaths that tickled my lips. Her hips betrayed her as they rolled up. I could see the frustration in her eyes. Like a drug, it filled me. I craved the chaos of her emotions.
“You know how good my cock will feel inside you. You’re craving it right now. How the ridges of my shaft will feel sliding in… and tearing through your tight little cunt.”
“No,” she breathed. “You’re a psycho.”
I was past the point of reason. Her scent consumed my every breath. “I’m taking what I want, little vixen. Fight me all you want, but I will have your cum on my cock.”
There were two things that Bailey Bishop was going to learn today—what it’s like to fuck a monster… and that she’s a monster too.
Bailey
Before I could scream, he kissed me. Raine Wickford fucking kissed me. His lips were soft, but his tongue lapped at my mouth like a starved animal. He held my wrists so tight, they burned against his fingers. A traitorous whimper ripped from my throat as he kissed me harder, bruising my lips.
My body was on fire.
I kissed him back.
Fuck.
“Mmm,” he growled. “I knew you wanted a taste. Fucking desperate for me, aren’t you?”
Fucking hell I hated how smug he was. “I’m just trying to get this over with, so you’ll get off me.”
He had both my wrists pinned against the wall above the headboard with one freakishly strong hand. “Look at me.”
