Page 113 of Depraved

I closed my eyes, feeling his warm breath on my wet lips. “Every decision has its consequences. I watched you from my bedroom window for years, and now I’ve fallen into the arms of the devil.” I gently kissed his lips. “If I was a smarter woman, stronger, I would have fought it—fought you. But I’m not…and I can’t.”

“That’s good.” The tip of his tongue traced along my bottom lip. “Because no matter how strong you are, you’ll never be strong enough to fight me.”

He let go of my hands and eased me back down to the ground. With rapid breaths and a wildly beating heart, I stared up at him, his expression unreadable.

“I’m going to say this again.” He tipped my chin up toward him. “I’m not a good man. Don’t ever make the mistake of forgetting that.”

He stepped back, and his chest rose and fell, his body rigid and tense. “Go to your room.”

I opened my mouth, but he narrowed his eyes at me. With one single glance, he managed to make me bite my tongue. It wasn’t in me to fight him. He was right. I’d never be strong enough.

The second I stepped into the room, he pushed his body hard against my back, and I heard the door shut behind us.

“Take off your clothes.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand—a demand I was too willing to obey. The skin on my face and neck was hot, yet my fingers were cold as I pulled the shirt over my head.

Within the silence, the atmosphere screamed with a deafening desire. It crackled between us, coating my skin with promise. And as I slipped off my pants, I felt his eyes on me, raking over me. For a second, my own insecurities over a body I had been so cruel to made me hesitate. And now, while I stood there naked, I wished I had taken better care of it. I wanted to give Granite perfection. But I couldn’t, not when I looked like this.

“Turn around.” Again, nothing in his voice gave the impression that it was a request.

I closed my eyes, embarrassment burning my cheeks, yet it wasn’t strong enough to let my desire dissipate.

When I turned and my eyes met his, I swallowed hard. Dark and beaming irises stared at me. “You want me to cut the bullshit, be straight with you, man to woman.” He slipped his cut off his arms, down his back. “Then let me show you exactly what kind of man I want to be when it comes to you. But a fair warning,” he pulled his shirt over his head, wild curls falling around his broad shoulders, “once I start, I’m not going to stop.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

GRANITE

I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t a good man. The thought of letting her go had crossed my mind on more than one occasion—to set her free. But that thought always ended with me saying, “Fuck, no,” out loud. I couldn’t stomach the idea of not having her again. I had finally found the best high I had ever been on between her legs. For years, I sat in the shadows desiring her, hidden by the cloak of darkness and dreaming of the day I’d finally taste her. And now that I had found heaven between those thighs, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d give it up. Never.

I allowed my gaze to travel down her body, slowly, taking in every inch of her. From the way she shifted from one leg to the other, it was clear she felt uncomfortable under my penetrating stare, but I didn’t give a fuck. In fact, I loved it. I loved her shyness, her innocence—even after I’d already corrupted it once. Her innocence was the kind that couldn’t be destroyed, no matter how many times you tainted it. God knew I was willing to spend the rest of my miserable life trying. Ruining her innocence would be my biggest fucking accomplishment.

I unbuckled my belt, my gaze pinned on her tiny breasts. Her rosy nipples were hard, the small, rounded flesh begging to be palmed. Her stomach was flat—too flat, almost sinking in just above her hips. Jesus, my ballerina girl was wasting away. It was something I needed to fix once I was done getting my fill of her.

Dark curls had started to appear around her pussy, her legs slightly parted at the apex of her thighs. She might be underweight, but she still made my dick hard in a way no other woman ever had. And knowing I had been the only man to experience the paradise between her legs had me on the verge of turning savage.

I cut my gaze to hers, her cheeks a healthy, warm pink. “Ever since the day I took you, you hated me.”

She bit her lip.

“Yet you gave yourself to me once.”

She let go of her lip with a pop. “I once had this friend who called me a masochist.”

“Smart friend.”

“Smarter than me, yes. She never would have fallen for you.”

I slipped my jeans to the floor and stalked toward her. “Have you fallen for me?”

“Maybe.”

Her gaze dropped to my cock, bobbing and standing proud. Rock fucking hard for her.

“Stupid, naïve ballerina girl.”

Her chin lifted in defiance. “I’ve heard that before.”