AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And what makes you think I’m here to attack you? I made enough noise to alert you to my presence. If I wanted to attack, I’d surely be stealthy. I certainly wouldn’t stand around having a casual conversation with you while you’re naked and wet.”
“What other reason could there be for your being here?” She raises a brow in question but her green eyes are shining with mirth. She's enjoying herself.
“Is that what you were expecting Hatchet to do?” I cock my head to the side and study the way her cheeks flush a gentle pink. It should clash horribly with her bright red hair – even dripping wet it’s vivid – but it doesn’t. She looks…completely fuckable.
It’s the huge green eyes that are doing it for me. She’s practically begging me to fuck her, to attack and hurt her. And I’d hate to disappoint.
I step closer, minimising the space between us, and to her credit, she doesn’t flinch or move. She holds her breath though, so she’s not stupid.
“What would you say if I told you I’m here to finish what Hatchet didn’t manage to get started?”
There’s a flash of surprise in her eyes, but it’s quickly drowned out by desire. She doesn’t even care to wonder how I know what didn’t go down between them. She hasn’t figured out that my room’s right across from hers, didn’t notice me silently following them down the corridor. Not when she only had eyes for Hatchet. But now her lustful eyes are all mine.
“Are you a good girl, Kookaburra?”
Her nostrils flare but she doesn’t answer. Reaching out, I trace the path of a single droplet of water as it travels along her long, creamy neck and down into the valley between her breasts. Goosebumps rise in my wake, and her delicate pulse point flutters again. I trail a finger from the sensitive dip behind her ear, along her sharp jawline, barely skimming the surface, until I’m gently cupping her chin between my finger and thumb.
She really is a work of art. Like something from a pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood obsession. Beautiful and barbaric. Saintlyandsinister. The art history critics got it so wrong. Why would a redheaded woman be one or the other when she can be both and so much more? I see her strength. Her capabilities. But I can feel her fragility too.
And I want it all. Want her. Her pain and her pleasure. Want to break her apart and destroy her. I might even be tempted to put her back together again. Even if it’s only to annihilate her all over again.
Her stare is so intense, so needy.
I snap.
My grip becomes bruising but she doesn’t speak out. Her breathing hitches slightly but it’s the only giveaway that shows she’s aware of the change between us. She must be able to feel it; the air is charged.
She holds my gaze. Challenging. Defiant.Try me,that stare says.
So I do. I squeeze, nails digging in, until she winces. That’s better. I loosen my grip, satisfied when my nail marks cause little crimson half moons to well up on her otherwise perfect alabaster skin.
Releasing her face, I grab her hips and spin her away from me. Even in the split second my hands are on her, the perfect way shefitsstill registers.
With her back to me, I apply pressure to her spine to make her bend to my will, which she does like a marionette being played by a master puppeteer. She’s so…pliable. Malleable.
How far can she bend before she breaks?
I run my hand down the length of her spine, feeling the ridges and dips of her bones. She fascinates me.
“Just do it already!” she cries, losing patience.
I let the grin stretch across my face, knowing she can’t see it. The grin that has had me likened toThe Jokermany times. If only they knew his level of insanity hadn’t got anything on mine.
I fist my hand in her hair. Wrap it around and around my knuckles. Life affirming. Pull tight. Snap her head back. Ironic. Expose that beautiful throat.
My dick aches to be inside her so badly. I don’t know how Hatchet managed to walk away from her. If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he had the morals of a saint.
Keeping her right where I want her, I undo the zip on my slacks and free my throbbing cock. I guess little miss Jen won’t be around anymore to keep it warm and wet, so I may as well enjoy myself tonight in Kayla instead.
I tease us both, running the tip of my dick back and forth between her lips, which frankly, feels fucking amazing for me. I guess she likes it too judging by the way she wiggles, silently asking for more. I ignore her though.
“Knew you’d be wet,” I murmur, more to myself than for her to hear.
“I just got out of the shower, asshole,” she snipes, still trying to impale herself on my cock.
“That’s funny, because I’m talking about where the water doesn’t reach, unless your cunt’s so good you defy the laws of gravity.”
She moans at my words and rubs herself against me like a bitch in heat until my dick is nice and slick with her juices.
