Page 6 of Falling for the Enemy

She forked her fingers into his hair, pulling hard enough to rip a few strands free. He kicked the door shut as blood pulsed hard and heavy to his cock. Joan Jett shouted from the next room as he backed her into the wall, knocking into the accent table as a stack of books fell to the floor. Her sharp tongue tasted like whiskey and defiance, and the combination hit his bloodstream with mercenary precision.

Jocelyn’s back collided with the hallway wall, rattling a framed picture off its nail, but neither of them flinched as the piece crashed against the hardwood. Soren’s fingers tightened in her hair, angling her head exactly where he wanted it so he could take her mouth with unapologetic, demanding need.

She bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a sound from his throat, hard enough that he tasted blood. His dick pulsed in excitement. He’d deny wanting her until his last breath, but right now, he was desperate to have her.

“You’re a fucking animal,” he growled, reclaiming control of the kiss.

“Says the stray who keeps showing up at my door.” She yanked his belt, tugging the leather through the buckle with the efficiency of a woman who did this enough times to no longer need his consent.

Shrugging his suit jacket off his shoulders, he tossed it over the banister without looking. Yanking her kimono, he exposed her creamy-white shoulder. The warm slope of ivory skin beneath called to his tongue like water to a thirsting man. He pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck and tasted where her pulse hammered against his tongue.

Desire singed the air as her soft breath teased his temple. The familiar concoction of whisky and lust wrapped around him with the suffocating familiarity of a drug he consistently failed to quit. Warm fingers shoved into his briefs and closed around his cock, sure and demanding, pulling his hips forward before his pride could intervene.

“Careful,” she teased, her grip tightening with deliberate cruelty. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself like last time.”

“Keep talking.” He bent low and bit her nipple.

She gasped. “Oh, I plan to.” Her dark eyes teased as her smile pulled at her flushed cheeks.

Those taunting lips… He should shove her to her knees and shut her up for good.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Fuck. She probably did. He loved and hated that knowing look in her eyes. Pure sin wrapped in silk. No other person could get away with breaking his balls as often as she did.

“Turn around,” he growled and shoved her into the wall, fully intending to ruin her.

Her eyes, sharp with disdain, glared over her shoulder. “Asshole.” Challenge flickered in her stare, and his blood heated several more degrees.

They understood what this was. Accepted it. Equally hated the curse they mutually suffered.

Fucking her against the wall would resolve nothing and complicate everything, but they were already past the point of denial. Their two-decade rivalry had come to a head the day of his father’s funeral, and he’d not been able to stop obsessing over her in the eighteen months since.

Gripping her lush ass, he dug his nails into silk and soft flesh as he pressed her shoulders down, bending her into position. Shoving up her robe, his hunger surged. He needed to get inside of her.

“Is this what you want?” He smacked her ass and stepped closer, dragging his aching cock against the crease as his nails scored the delicate skin of those grabbable cheeks.

She arched like a cat. “Am I supposed to feel something?”

He gathered her hair in his fist and jerked her head back. “You can be such a brat.”

She chuckled, unaffected by the word. If anything, it egged her on. “Brat? You’re the one hesitating⁠—”

Soren ripped the kimono off her body and kicked her feet apart. Her spine arched, and she squirmed closer as his palm slid to the bare plane of her stomach. Dipping his fingers between her wet folds, he tested her heat and found her wet and ready as she thrust her hips to meet his exploring touch.

Breath left her in a low, fractured exhalation when he replaced his fingers with his cock. His body pressed to hers, caging her between him and the wall.

“Am I hesitating now?” His mouth moved against the shell of her ear as his swollen cock stretched her, his fingers sliding along the strained slit of her wet pussy to the hard bud of her swollen clit.

“Gah, stop talking.” She widened her stance, giving him easier access, and he plunged into her, fully seating himself.

“Admit it, Joce, everything out of my mouth makes you wet.”

“Hardly,” she lied, her voice catching when his fingers rolled her clit faster.

He chuckled as her body betrayed her words, as he easily slid in and out of her slick heat. The soft sound of pleasure that escaped her throat vibrated against the wall and straight through his chest.

“I don’t…” She moaned. “…respond to mediocre.”