Skin (Flesh 2) - Page 49/71

Nick chuckled.

Her shoulders crept higher and higher.

The door clicked shut behind them and he set the torch on the floor. There was a dingy old double bed and a motorbike, laid out in parts on a layer of newspapers to protect the carpet. Considering it had been worn bare, she couldn’t see the point. Nick grabbed the chair from in front of a desk and jammed it under the door handle, checking it twice.

“They’ve given me tonight to talk you around. I’ve got a plan.” He touched her arm and she skipped back a step.

“Ros.”

“Just … give me a minute here.”

“No. Listen to me.” He reached for her and she reacted without thought. The flat of her palm smacked into his cheek. Her hand stung. Nick just stared at her.

“Shit,” she whispered.

He looked every bit as stunned as she felt. He blinked at her again and again. His cheek was dark in the low light. Fuck, she’d actually hit him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Then he really grabbed her. His hands wrapped around her upper arms and he pulled her in tight against him. Her br**sts were mashed up against his chest and his mouth covered hers in a brutally hard kiss. One hand squeezed her ass while the other held the back of her neck. He wasn’t gentle. But neither was she. Fear and anger fueled them both.

He f**ked her mouth with his tongue. There was no other word for it. Fingers dug into her, holding her against him. She bit at him, or tried to. So mad, nothing made sense. The things he’d said, the words were a jumble in her head. She just wanted to hurt him. The way he’d talked about other women made her bloodthirsty. If she could have, she’d have crawled beneath his skin and done him damage from the inside out.

She tore at the button on his jeans, the zip, shoved the denim down over his hips. Her fingernails scratched at his h*ps and flat stomach. Beneath his hot skin, his muscles flinched. He groaned into her mouth.

Fuck yes, she wanted to mark him. Needed to.

When she slid her hand into his boxers and pressed her fingernails into the shaft of his cock, however, he stopped her quick smart. He grunted, grabbed her wrist and spun her, pushing her onto her stomach, onto the mattress. The air rushed out of her with an oomph. Her feet barely touched the ground. The spare reading glasses in her shirt pocket pressed into her. His hands dug beneath her, undoing her jeans and tearing them down her legs. They shackled her knees. He threw her gun onto the mattress beside her, but she didn’t want to shoot him. Beat at him with her hands though, yes. She tried to get up and fight back, but she couldn’t. Strong hands pulled her back until she was half standing, bent over the bed with her legs spread.

Without a word he shoved his c**k into her, driving her forward onto the mattress.

Oh, shit. She wasn’t ready. Pain tripped through her and a high, hurt noise escaped her.

Suddenly his arms were around her, drawing her back against him. His breath warmed her neck. She kept her hands flat on the mattress as her sex ached around the hard length of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Fuck, Ros. I’m so sorry.”

One of his big hands joined hers on the bed. Fingers stroked her where they were joined. Teasing and appeasing her. Soft touches over the lips of her sex, her thighs and her belly. He moved restlessly over her body while his lips pressed kisses to her neck. He licked at her earlobe and rubbed his nose against the soft skin beneath. The warmth of his bare pelvis and thighs pressed against her. His c**k throbbed inside her, feeling so much bigger than he ever had before on account of her barely being wet.

“Roslyn. Please, talk to me.” His fingers brushed over her sex, sliding around her clit, making her soften for him. “Tell me to get out of you. If you tell me I will. I swear.”

“No, wait.”

“Sweetheart.” He sounded tortured. A lot like how she felt, mentally, physically, everything. Catching her breath seemed impossible. Her lungs were fried. Her body bruised.

“Keep touching me, Nick. Just …”

“Yes.”

He kissed and nibbled the nape of her neck, mumbling nonsense. How perfect she was. How beautiful. How he’d never let anyone hurt her. But he was the one who’d done the damage.

She still couldn’t resist him. His fingers felt so good. Whatever they did, she wanted more. Her sex wept for him and his c**k shifted inside her. Ever so carefully, slowly, he drew back and his c**k slid almost all the way out of her. She hated it, the emptiness, the loss of him. Her h*ps pressed back.

“Nick. Please.”

“Carefully,” he said, pushing back into her.

The pain changed, morphed into something akin to pleasure. The ache shifted to reside wholly behind her clit. But it should hurt. She wanted it to. Everything about this situation wounded her.

He pressed into her, filling her to overflowing, then retreating. The heat of his body left her back as he straightened to stand behind her. His hands stroked over her sides, her back, before coming to rest on her hips. He f**ked her so sweetly she could have cried, face buried in the sleeping bags atop the bed.

Maybe, just a little, she did.

Pressure built inside her and his movements grew more ragged. The thrust and retreat of his c**k inside her melted her down, made her liquid. If it weren’t for his grip on her she’d have fallen. Her knees would have given out. No matter how badly she wanted to stay with him.

His body bucked against hers and he came with a noise unlike anything she’d ever heard. A harsh exhale with gritted teeth, an agonized groan. Her body shook but she didn’t come. So close but she couldn’t. Her mind wouldn’t let go. So much was wrong.

Nick held her to him as he emptied inside her. There were no noises outside the room. Gently he rolled her over, climbed onto the mattress and pulled further up onto the bed with her pants hanging above her ankles. He’d already done his back up.

“Kiss me,” he said.

“W-we need to talk.”

He didn’t listen. His hand slid down over her stomach, slid in the wet mess between her legs. Firm lips covered hers, kissing over and over until she gave in. Of course she gave in. When it came to him she was hopeless.

Muscles low in her belly tensed as his finger teased her. Her hands fisted in his shirt and her legs opened wider, giving him access. So damn close. The aching pressure built to epic proportions. He kissed her till her head spun and her cunt clenched greedily at the finger he slid into her. He rubbed at some secret spot inside her and his thumb brushed over her clit, back and forth, and she came hard. His mouth covered hers, silencing her as it went on and on. Her body bowed beneath the pressure, every muscle drawn tight. Not a single thought remained in her head. The orgasm drained her completely. She lay lax on the bed as he pulled her pants up.