Page 22 of Risk

“You should have told me to stop, Princess.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I can’t.” He crushes his mouth to mine and pins my body to the wall.

Chapter 8

Mason

Every cell in my brain screams for me to back the fuck off and yet, when I kiss Leah, it’s as if I’ve been shattered and my final form rises out of the broken fragments like a god.

Dramatic as fuck, yes, but this isn’t just some kiss that hardens my dick.

It’s a connection I feel from the base of my feet to the roots of my hair.

Leah’s nails scrape my scalp as she takes over, and it makes my toes curl. Jesus Christ, what’s gotten into us? Before losing what’s left of my control, I gently place my hand on her throat and bite her bottom lip before pulling back.

Leah’s flushed and gorgeous when she says, “Harder, Daddy.”

The little air left in my lungs evaporates. “Fucking hell.” I kiss her again, my restraint snapping like taut cords severed by a knife. Leah’s that knife. “I want to fuck you.”

I’ll be careful so I don’t accidentally break her cut open again.

“Take this fucking shirt off.” I hate the Yankees almost as much as I hate myself.

When I lift her shirt, Leah smacks my hands away. “Fuck me with it on.”

Excuse me? I inch closer to her face, our mouths nearly touching. “I hate the Yankees.”

She doesn’t back down. “Show me how much.”

This woman takes my aggression and turns it into an aphrodisiac.

Growling, I smash my mouth to hers again and we’re both ripping her shorts down and getting my pants off. Suddenly, Leah hisses in pain and I jerk back. “Shit, are you okay?”

She looks down at her palm and I swear my dick deflates instantly. That my greedy goddamn nature might have caused her more harm makes me sick. Without saying a word, I pick her up and carry her over to the couch. I don’t trust myself to put her back in my bed. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Leah cradles her palm. “It just stings a bit.”

My throat feels tight, and it’s hard to swallow. I glance in the kitchen and realize there’s still glass, water, and flowers all over the floor. I look back at Leah and see she’s staring at me like a hawk.

“I’m torn between taking care of your needs and cleaning that mess up, so it’s safer in here for you, Princess.” Every time I call her that, she visibly melts a little.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself, Mason.”

I know she is, but I don’t want her cleaning up my messes. Leah cleaning my shower and mopping my floor suddenly sits badly with me, too. This insane urge to spoil and keep her is going to get us both into a heap of trouble.

I have to be careful.

“When is your next job?”

Leah’s brow furrows. “You mean after I’m done here?”

She’s done here already; she just doesn’t know it. “Yeah.”

“Two o’clock.”

“Where?”