Page 31 of A Dark Fall

Then he pulls away, leaving my mouth wanting. He’s not angry anymore. Now, I have no doubt he’s turned on. BecauseIturn him on. Oh, what a heady feeling that is.

“That’s how you kiss someone you want, Alex.Me.You want,” he states confidently, arrogantly.

I should be angry and embarrassed by his assertion, but I’m not. I’m annoyed at him pulling away.

“You’re quite possibly the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”

He smirks sexily. “Then tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you. Tell me you only fuck nice guys. Nice guys you don’t want.”

I’m damn well tempted to, if only to see the cocky look drop from his face. Instead, I smile back.

“So, of all the things I could tell you, that’s what you want to hear? That I don’t want you. Really? You’re a strange man, Jake Lawrence ...” The cider has made me brave, or perhaps I left my brain at The Pig & Hen.

Something dark flickers across his eyes, and he steps forward, pressing himself into my body. He narrows his eyes, angry again. “Are you trying to drive me mental?” He scrubs his hand over his mouth, looking tense, and then pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

Okay, I need to check these headaches with him. Do they come with dizzy spells? What if it’s something serious?

“Fucking hell, I need to know where your head is, Alex. I need to know what the fuck is going on here.” He sounds utterly confused now as he fixes me with that intense stare again. “You know, normally, when I want a girl, I get her, simple as that. This shit doesn’t fucking happen.Ever.It’s a done deal.”

Is he actually serious? Oh, god, he is.

I press my hand to my heart and sigh dreamily. “You know, I think that might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” I drawl sarcastically.

He narrows his eyes again as his jaw tenses, his brain ticking loudly. Oh, yes, he’s definitely not used to this. Womendefinitelyspread their legs at the bloody sight of him. It makes me stiffen, and I fix him with a withering look.

“You must be used to guys falling over their feet trying to impress you, huh? Expensive jewelry, expensive restaurants—the lot. Were there love letters, Alex? Yeah, I fucking bet there were.” He chuckles, and it sounds mean. “Tell me this though: How many times did you wish that instead of a love letter or a five-course at the Dorchester, they’d take you home and fuck you raw and hard? Your Oxbridge-educated twats don’t have it in them though, do they?” He gives me a look that borders on pity.

I’m not breathing now. At least, I don’t think I am.Raw and hard?I’m not breathing again. I’m so bloody turned on. All I can think about now is him fucking me raw and hard, which, of course, is exactly what he wants me to do. Which is exactly why he said it. Which is exactly why he’s looking at me the way he is now. Sexually arrogant.

From nowhere, the image of him pushing me against my living room wall, yanking down my jeans, and thrusting himself into me, hard, explodes in my mind. My toes curl into the carpet as my fingers clench with want.

Christ, I need to get away from him. Now.

As I go to move, he shifts his foot, wedging his thigh between mine to stop me. I can feel the heat of his thigh, thick and muscular, against the inside of my own. I swallow.

“Oh, we aren’t done here yet, Alex,” he informs me.

I blink. Rear my head back to glare at him. Okay, now, who on earth does he think he is? This is my bloody living room, in my bloody house.

Seething, I narrow my eyes on him. “Oh, we aren’t in some back hallway of your bloody club this time, Jake. This is my house, and I’m in charge here, not you. I say when we’re done.” To me, my voice still sounds too girly and breathy, so I weigh it down when I speak again. “We are done. Move.”

But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t give an inch.

“You get more fucking beautiful every time I see you, do you know that?” he whispers, licking his lips with his tongue slowly, deliberately.

My heart feels as if it’s going to beat its way out of my chest. Then I feel something on my hip, near the hem of my top. Scorching heat. He’s touching me.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, cocking his head to the side as he stares at my lips. He skims his hand across the waistband of my jeans, tugging on the button gently. If he unbuttons my trousers, I will be gone. No turning back. I won’t stop him. “Are you turned on, baby?” he asks me.

God, I love the feel of his hands on my skin—my low skin. My body keels ever so slightly toward him, and the need to move against the heat of his thigh almost overwhelms me. The ache between my legs is near painful. I close my eyes as he brings his mouth to my neck, close to my ear.

“I’m turned on too, Alex. I’m so fucking hard for you. Fuck, I’m alwayssohard for you,” he groans obscenely.

The knot tightens. I feel his fingers then, looping around mine to guide them to the front of his jeans. I try not to gasp as I feel the truth of it. He’s extremely hard and very large, and I have to resist the urge to look down and see my hand on it. Touching him there. I want him to undress and let me see it. I want to touch it, skin-to-skin. I want him to push me to my knees and make me take it in my mouth.

I swallow, dry-mouthed, painfully turned on, hating how easy I’ve made all this for him.

“Are you imagining how good it will feel inside you? When I make you come with it?”