Borden - Page 53/62

All the while I was vaguely aware of him shifting things behind me. Paperwork and containers flew off the table, and the computer monitor got shoved to the other end of his desk. Abruptly he grabbed me around the neck and shoved me away from his mouth, until my back was against the hard desk. I opened my eyes to look at him and saw the raw heat radiating out of his gaze as he hurriedly unbuckled himself.

We were both panting, and along with my quickening heartbeats, it was the only sound I heard in the room… until the head of his cock brushed against my entrance, and I moaned low in my throat.

“Beg for it,” he demanded.

“Just fuck me, Borden.”

“Say ‘please’.”

I paused, and then I pushed against his hand still around my throat and slapped him across his cheek.

Always that stunned look on his face.

And hunger.

My God, the hunger in his eyes gave me chills.

Suddenly spurred on, he thrusted hard into me, filling me up in one smooth glide, and I tensed beneath him. That damn blessed piercing rubbed against my g-spot, and I saw stars. I wasn’t sure how loud I was moaning. I was too busy feeling to know, and bloody hell, what a feeling it was. I’d never go without a pierced cock again, I knew.

No, no, I’d never go without his pierced cock.

He pulled out and then pounded back into me, hard. The desk jerked beneath us as he slowly started to move faster, squeezing at my throat to keep me firmly in place. And just like before, all of it was animalistic, both of us searching for that release, uncaring of how hard and rough we worked for it. None of it bothered me this time. I loved every second of him inside of me, didn’t care at all about how dirty it was, because I wanted to be dirty. I wanted all of his filthy ways. The dynamite ignited inside of me, and I gasped at the euphoric wave that followed. I grasped at his arm, digging my fingernails into it as the feeling warmed my body.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

“Oh, my God,” I breathed out, shaking around him.

He didn’t stop moving inside of me, but his hand went up my neck, gripping a chunk of my hair. He leaned over me, his hot mouth skirting along my skin, sucking and biting at my shoulder, neck and mouth.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered.

Then he looked at me, and I saw the vulnerability in his eyes as he reached the edge and flew over, stopping abruptly inside of me as he came. The pleasure washed over his features, and I saw them clearly in the light as he whispered, “Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.”

He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

And in that exact moment, after seeing those vulnerable pained eyes, I felt my chest crack a little. Felt the gap he’d created and wormed himself through.

The asshole had just touched my soul, and my eyes glistened at the realization.

I didn’t understand why, but my touch went from rough to gentle. I lightly ran my fingers through his hair as he came down, taking control of his breathing. I was tempted to hug him to me and keep him there, even long after we were aware of what we’d done, just so we could confront our strange relationship.

That didn’t end up happening.

Awkwardly, he pushed off of me – and out of me – and buckled himself up, his eyes for once avoiding my own. I sat up, a little dizzy and wobbly, and he steadied me with a hand on my arm, helping me off the desk. I pushed my skirt down in place and buttoned up my blouse, all the while watching him flounder around. He seemed genuinely out of it, picking up the papers, fixing up the monitor that had somehow crashed to the ground, although I couldn’t remember when in the midst of our fucking that had happened.

In silence, I helped him tidy up. We both saw the torn up thong at the same time, and we hesitated for a moment before he bent down and picked it up. I went to reach out for it, but he shoved it into his pocket without a word and continued the clean-up.

Oh, my God, that had been exquisite. Another mind-blowing anger bang.

Afterwards, he collapsed into his chair, looking nothing like the confident pissy Borden I knew. He stared down at his desk, and I couldn’t read him, couldn’t know what he was thinking. But I had a feeling he wanted to be alone. I grabbed my bag and turned to him. Without thinking, I bent down and lightly brushed my lips against his cheek.

“Good bye, Mr Borden,” I whispered shakily.

I escaped the room straight after, not brave enough to see his reaction.

Borden

Borden was fucked.

Truly and overly fucked.

How? How had he let it get this far? He couldn’t say no to her. The little alley cat had somehow knocked his defences down, for once making him feel powerless.

Borden could still smell the sex in the air an hour after she’d left. Could still smell her fucking passionfruit body spray she doused herself in. Could still feel her decadent lips against his. Could feel the red-hot pain she left on his cheek after she slapped him.

She was fucking perfect, and that was the damn problem. He didn’t want her to be perfect. Fucking hell, Kate was the only person meant to be perfect for him, and yet Emma replaced his idea of perfection without him even realizing it.

I’m sorry Kate.

He’d always told himself he’d never move on. That would be a serious insult to Kate. She was the only one meant to have possessed his heart. Fucking hell, after her death he wasn’t meant to even have one anymore. Yet he felt an ache there, and more colours surfaced. Colours fucking everywhere with that black-haired doll around.

Panic set in.

He couldn’t lose himself to another woman again. He’d never survive the pain of it if something happened. He’d be to blame, and the blame would physically kill him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

What the hell was he going to do now?

Twenty-One

Emma

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” Granny asked after pulling the sausage rolls out of the oven.

I looked up from my mud cake and at her. I could decide to play dumb, or I could just tell her the truth and face her scorn.

“Like what?” I replied with instead.

She crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the counter as she took me in. Her face was grave, and I knew she was waiting for me to let it out.

“You haven’t been yourself,” she said. “You’ve retreated into your old shell, and from past experiences, I know that’s not always a good thing.”

“Well, it’s not one of those times, I promise.”