Page 103 of Savage Ambition

“Jealousy radiates off you.” My lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “The scent clings to your skin like cheap cologne.”

Jace shoved hard at my chest, but I refused to budge. “What the hell do I have to be jealous of?”

I captured his wrists to hold him in place. “Either you’re jealous you aren’t the one with me, or you’re furious I got to Shaw first.”

He wrenched free. “You’re dead wrong.”

“There’s no reason for you to be this worked up unless you want one of us for yourself.” I traced a finger down his chest. “And since you claim to find me repulsive, that only leaves one option.”

“All I want is for you to leave my friend alone,” he growled, but the conviction in his voice wavered.

“Why?” I pressed. “I’m obviously not the one you should have this conversation with.”

“I’m being serious, fucker. Stop disrespecting me when I’m paying you.”

“You want respect?” I slid my arm around his waist, pulling him flush against me. “Then earn it. Show me why I should take you seriously.”

Jace struggled against my embrace, trying not to touch my bare skin. “Let me go!”

Instead of releasing him, I cupped his cheek in a gentle caress, my thumb brushing across his bottom lip. “You might as well get your money’s worth, right? After all, you’ve already paid for the full experience.”

“Hugh’s paying for this, not me.” He slapped my hand away. “That’s not why I’m here.”

I tipped his chin up, forcing him to meet my gaze. “No? You didn’t come here to put me in my place? To show me what a real man can do?” I rolled my hips against his growing hardness. “To fuck the arrogance out of me until I’m begging for mercy? Wouldn’t being buried balls-deep in me be the perfect revenge?”

“You sick fucker. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to fuck you like the whore you are.”

“No.” I slid my hands down to grip his ass, pulling him against me. “I’d much rather have you on all fours, ass up, and fuck you from behind until you’re begging me for more. I’ll teach you why Shaw keeps coming back for more.”

His mouth opened and closed, words failing him as his erection hardened against my thigh.

I smirked at my victory. “Looks like I finally found an effective way to shut you up.” Without warning, I gripped his jaw and forced my mouth against his.

He tried to jerk back, but I held him closer, one hand fisted in his hair to control the angle. He released a muffled sound of protest, but when I nipped at his lower lip, his mouth opened to gasp. I took full advantage, my tongue invading, claiming, conquering. The taste of beer filled my senses as I deliberately made the kiss wet and filthy in a pornographic display of dominance.

Instead of pushing me away, his hands slid up my chest to tangle in my wig. His mouth moved against mine with clumsy aggression. He trembled under my grip, melting into the contact despite his mind’s obvious protests.

Jace’s erection strained insistently against my thigh as he tried to wrestle control of the kiss. His technique was sloppy and unrefined, all teeth and desperate hunger. The lack of talent offended me on a professional level. I dominated him effortlessly, my hand sliding down to cup his arousal through his jeans.

“Does the thought of my dick up your ass turn you on this much?” I taunted against his lips, squeezing him through the denim.

I had pushed him too far. With a snarl of rage, he threw a wild punch aimed at my jaw.

Catching his fist, I twisted to position myself at his back. I kicked his knees out from under him, sending him crashing face-first into the carpet. I wrenched his arm upward between his shoulder blades.

He cried out in anguish as he fought against my grip. “Damn it, Dante!”

I bent over him, increasing the pressure until he whimpered. “Isn’t that cute? You’re already screaming my name, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He thrashed beneath me. “I hate you so fucking much,” he spat, then howled when I twisted his arm higher.

“That won’t stop you from jerking off to the memory of this later tonight,” I predicted. “Alone in your bed, stroking yourself, remembering how your body betrayed every lie you tell yourself by getting aroused because of me.”

“I would never do that.”

“Your cock is still hard,” I pointed out, grinding my knee between his legs to prove my point. “I love knowing you’ll suffer the torment of wanting me and never having me. Of lying awake, haunted by what might have happened if you’d admitted what you really wanted.”

He bucked beneath me, trying to free himself. “It’s not true.”