Everything I’d ever let myself crave was used against me and taught me to hate rather than love.
It was easier to run from compassion and empathy when they were the very things that had the power to steal everything I’d worked so hard for.
I would continue to fuck Nila, because I was done depriving myself of everything good. But I wouldn’t let her get inside my head, and I definitely wouldn’t let her climb inside my heart.
Bracing myself, I snapped, “I want you to understand that you will never know me. You’ll never have any power over me, nor will you have any hold on my loyalties. No matter what goes on between us, I will never release you, never take your side against my family, never bow to any demands you make. Nothing has changed in that respect.”
Breathing hard, I finished, “If you can handle that, then I’ll fuck you and grant us both some happiness. But if you can’t, then I’m walking out that door and won’t be back until it’s time for the Second Debt.”
She cupped my cheek. Her hand was steady; her eyes clear from vertigo or stress. It seemed the truth from me didn’t upset her nearly as much as when I locked myself in ice. “I want to keep feeling this. So I’ll agree…for now.” Her gaze dropped to my lips, anxiousness and passion pinking her cheeks. “Enough talking. Kiss me.”
I groaned. I’d never hear the command ‘kiss me’ again without wanting to devour her.
This was a steep learning curve for both of us. We just had to make sure we didn’t fall off the edge and plummet to our deaths.
She fell backward on the bed. My body took over, intolerable need ordering my limbs to follow. Kicking off my jeans from still around my thighs, I planted my elbows by her ears on the mattress and settled between her legs.
My cock twitched, dying to enter her.
Lowering my head, I bit the soft vulnerability of her neck.
My mind ran riot with everything I wanted to do. Resting between her legs was enjoyable…but it wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t what would keep me sane.
If I let myself fuck her again, the next time I took her—it would be very different. It would have to be. I had no choice.
She gasped, writhing beneath me, pushing her hips upward.
She was eager—ridiculously so. And I was damn near desperate to fuck her again. I wanted to pour inside her. I wanted to look into her eyes as I let loose and filled her.
Nila’s hands grabbed the back of my neck, guiding my face to hers. Licking my bottom lip, her warm tongue was searing torture.
My stomach clenched.
Kissing her deeply, I stiffened. Pulling back, I drank my fill of her naked body. I’d seen most parts of her—either running, hiding in a tree, or spread-eagled on a table—but her bruised skin and elongated muscles seemed to control my cock completely.
My brain scattered as I followed the hollow path of her belly to her sharp hipbones over silky skin. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on her delicate frame. She had abs that were impressive but cute and a pussy that was tight and hidden demurely by perfect pink lips.
She was pure female—the embodiment of fragility and tenacity that I coveted and fantasised about.
The things I wanted to do to her. The things I’d always locked away bubbled beneath the surface.
I hadn’t noticed before, but she had a singular subtle scent of freshness—a comforting perfume that was both an aphrodisiac and intoxicant, making me fall deeper into hell.
I wanted to tell her she was beautiful.
I wanted to tell her what she was doing to me.
But I couldn’t.
Grabbing her breast, I pinched her nipple, before bowing my head and sucking it into my mouth.
She moaned, clamping my head to her chest. Every lash of my tongue made my cock ripple with need.
Her hands were insatiable as they slid over my burning shoulders, kneading, stroking, seeming to both calm and drive me wild.
I crawled back up her body.
Her eyes latched onto mine, glowing with things that were too intense and painful. My heart cleaved and lurched, exceeding my realm of ability to function.
Frantically clawing at a small hint of ice, I kissed her deeply.
It should’ve just been a kiss, but her mouth had a sorcery against my control. Her silent plea for more whispered around us; her body shifted and begged beneath mine, driving me closer to throwing myself into the pit that I’d climbed from and not give a flying fuck about anything anymore.
“I want you inside me, Jethro,” she whispered, her breath misting over my skin.
My hand went to her throat, tensing around the tender column. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to fuck you.”
She moaned, “Then stop delaying.”
“No, I like watching you squirm.” I dropped my nose to where I cupped her throat. “After all, you won again, Ms. Weaver—”
“Nila. Please…you can call me Ms. Weaver when we aren’t millimetres from claiming each other.”
I shook my head. “As I was saying, before you rudely interrupted.” I bit her bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth. “You won because I fucked you.”
“I think you won on that account, too.”
I licked her, tracing the tip of my tongue along her jaw, making her tremble. “You didn’t beg though, did you?”
She stiffened, a small moan echoing in her chest. “Don’t…don’t make me.”
A small smile played on my mouth. “Oh, I’ll make you, Ms. Weaver.” Nuzzling into her throat, I kissed a cold diamond on her collar. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
She growled, “Just put it in me, Jethro.”
I chuckled. “Just put it in me? That’s hardly romantic.”
“This isn’t romantic. If it was, we’d have candles and rose petals and soft music. This is a means to an end.”
I reared up on my elbows. “A means to an end?” I shouldn’t be hurt, but goddammit I was.
Nila clenched her stomach, reaching for me. “I want to come. You want to come. Stop prolonging it.”
My cock wept at her distress—she’d passed the edge of common sense. I wanted to give in—fuck, how I wanted to—but I also wanted to win just once. She’d somehow become the victor in all our battles. This one I intended to walk away the vanquisher.
Slamming my hand on her sternum, I pressed her against the mattress and scooted down her body. Every inch I travelled, I nipped and sucked—her nipple, every rib to her naval.
“Jethro…” she panted, her hands once again diving into my hair. My heart did weird things when she held me like that—her fingernails digging into my scalp, her barely restrained lust causing pinpricks of pain that felt better than any pleasure.