Page 60 of Perfect Liar
“A bullet would be merciful. I can’t have that, not when it comes to you.”
A dangerous energy vibrated through him, and God help me, his darkness captivated me.
“Don’t ask me about that kind of shit again,” he added.
“Okay,” I promised.
When we made it inside his bedroom, he kicked the door shut and pinned me against it, taking my mouth hard with his.
No one had ever kissed me so fiercely. I’d never known passion as powerful as his or that it could be expressed in a kiss.
I wanted his power. I wanted to breathe it into my soul.
He tossed his jacket, and I quickly unbuttoned his shirt, tugged it off his shoulders, and dragged my lips over his chest. He grabbed my hair, twisting it around his fingers, using it to draw me back to his mouth.
“I need to be inside you. I’m mad for you, Elle.”
The way he said my name completely unmade me. I spun around and lifted my hair, so he could unzip me. Goose bumps raised on my back in a trail as he kissed me there while letting down the zipper.
He grasped my shoulders and turned me back to face him.
My dress fell to the floor around my feet, and I stood there, weak with anticipation, desperate for him to touch me, wearing only my lacy bra and panties.
He stared, his eyes lingering, sliding up and down my body.
Blood rushed to my cheeks, making me blush.
He growled my name again, and the blood rushed down from my face to between my thighs. I was out of my mind for him. I wanted his skin on mine. More than want…it was a need…an ache that began while he was away in London.
I stepped out of my shoes and pooled dress, anchored my arms around his neck, and melted against his body, inhaling the warm, sensual scent that lived at the base of his throat.
His full bottom lip caught my attention. I lifted on my tiptoes and nipped at it.
“Seven fucking years, Elle. That’s how long I’ve wanted you. It never faded with time. I swear, you’re a witch.”
I teased him with a wicked smile.
“Maybe so, but here I am with you now.”
With that, he had nothing more to say. He abruptly moved our bodies as one, gracefully, like a predator stealing its prey, putting my back against the wall and his erection against my bare stomach.
A guttural vibration in his chest rose and stuck in his throat.
Capturing my wrists, holding them in one hand above my head, he dragged his other hand from my lips down to my thigh as he kissed me so brutally.
I moaned into his mouth.
Because his kiss hurt. And because I loved it.
A picture fell off the wall, but he instinctively batted it away before it hit me. It crashed to the floor, glass shattering.
As he lifted me to carry me to his bed, I locked my legs around his waist.
He sat at the foot of the bed with me straddling his lap and pulled me tightly against his erection, then he grabbed my hair again and kissed me until we shared one beautiful, ragged breath.
I bit his neck.
He jerked away, tossed me up on the bed, and prowled on his hands and knees up my body.