Page 85 of Trigger Happy Ending

A much darker Soren. Which makes him even sexier. (I’m twisted, I know it.)

He crosses the threshold into my room.

“I am sin. I am all that is unholy,” he growls as he backs me up against the side of the dresser. I suck in a sharp breath, my body vibrating with attraction and desire and a horniness I can’t even find a word for.

He drops his lips close to mine, our foreheads touching.

“But I am your divine intervention. Your salvation. And I fear you are mine.”

I don’t know who loses control first. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s me.

I close my eyes and fall to hell.

One second, he was calling me a bad bitch, and the next, his mouth is on mine. Harder, more furious than the other night, if that’s even possible. The earth stops spinning (or maybe it spins faster?), and all the stars in the sky burst to life and burn, burn, burn. I’m on fucking fire as Soren slides, grips, and squeezes me everywhere, feeling his way around my body. Taking what he feels is owed to him.

And I let him.

Because it’s owed to me too. And I want it.

His fingers sink into my hair, gripping hard, angling my head exactly how he wants. He kisses like he fights: fiercely and wild. A guttural sound rumbles from his chest as he presses me harder against the dresser. His tongue pushes past my lips, demanding, devouring me like his life depends on it. I meet him with equal force (because I think my life depends on it too?), my nails scraping over the bare skin of his arms, pulling him closer, his muscles shifting beneath my touch. He growls against my mouth, one hand trailing down to grab my hip, hard and possessive, like I’m all his for the taking. He drags his lips to my jaw, my throat, his teeth grazing the delicate skin.

Oh, I like that. I really, really like that.

My breath hitches, and he must hear it, must feel it, because his fingers tighten on my hip, his other hand sliding down my thigh.

“You know you’ve been killing me, right?” His voice is rough and hot against my lips. I can taste the faint flavor of tequila.

“Then go to hell for me, Soren.”

I pull his face back to mine and kiss him urgently, clawing at his lethal body. He’s a monster of a man, the ultimate killing machine. I’ve seen him kill, I can only imagine how he fucks.

Lucky for me, I think I’m about to find out.

He tears at my singlet, the fabric ripping as he simply shreds it (omg!) from my body. He takes a second, staring at my bare breasts. His pupils dilate as two of my perkiest assets do what they do best, which is turn a man into a desperate beggar, ready to do anything for a taste.

He drops his mouth to them, sucking and flicking my hard nipples with his delicious tongue, before he clamps down hard on one. My back arches as I cry out in pleasurable pain, my hands bracing the surface of the dresser.

It’s manic.

Frenzied.

Out of control.

It’s a struggle for dominance.

He’s winning.

Lifting my body up onto the top of the dresser, he slides down my yoga pants to find I’m not wearing any underwear. A slight smile shimmers across his face as he flicks his eyes up at me in surprise. I gaze back at him through heavy-lidded eyes. I’m completely naked and positively vibrating with anticipation of what he might do next. His fingers find my clit, gently but firmly rubbing my sensitive bundle of nerves. I’m more than ready, practically dripping as he slides a finger into me as my arm hooks around his neck and pulls him in, kissing him hungrily.

Spirit fingers, magic fingers, sticky fingers, holy sweet mother, this is ecstasy.

It’s pure uncut cocaine.

Rocking myself into his hand, my body coils and aches as I moan into his mouth.

It’s been so long, so very long, since my body has been taken care of like this.

Ever, actually.