Sun-Kissed by Florand Laura

Author:Florand, Laura [Florand, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary Romance
Published: 2014-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

He tossed her on the bed like his spoils from a war. She bounced on the antique white linens and scrambled to get up on her elbows, even as he landed in a sitting position on the edge of the bed beside her and thrust his arm between her legs so they couldn’t close against him.

“A.L.W.” With his other hand, he traced the monogram she’d had added to those old linens and showed his teeth again, in that fierce, hungry victory. “I’m glad you told me whose bed this was, Anne, so there wouldn’t be any confusion about whose territory I’m taking over. You want me to give you some new sheets that say M.A.C.?”

Just the thought both shot arousal through her again and made her want to strangle him for his gloating, subdue him under her. Teach him who was queen here.

And yet his forces were already well inside her walls.

“Mack.” She grabbed for verbal weapons. “I don’t have any—there’s nothing in my nightstand, you know.”

“Anne.” He braced his hand against the great oak headboard behind her. Victorian. She’d painted it white herself. White on white everywhere here. Untouchable. Aloof. “I haven’t had sex with anyone but you in a long, long, long time.”

“You haven’t been having sex with me either!”

“It’s been vicarious.” He pulled a packet out of his back pocket. “But I brought some anyway. In case you felt fastidious.” He waved the foil packet at her and gave that little, mean, I’m-beating-you grin. “Make you mad?”

That he had come assuming he would win? Yes. She pressed her lips together and glared at him.

He leaned forward until he pressed his hands to the mattress to either side of her face, his thigh sliding up between her legs. “Enough to say Fuck you?”

“F—” She caught herself and tightened her lips again.

“I brought three,” he taunted, pressing his thigh right up between her thighs and rubbing it there. “Go on, Anne. Say it.”

Again the provocation nearly brought the words out. She fought them back.

“God, you’re so mean,” he said and lowered his hips enough to drag the fastening of his jeans between her spread legs, a masculine, rough invasion between her thighs that was nothing like anything she could ever give herself. “Me, too.”

She gave a little hitch of breath as he rocked his hips just an inch or two back and forth, dragging the thick placket of his jeans against her.

“You can either say that or fuck me,” he told her. My way or…my other way.

“Or you could say it,” she shot back, even as her hips rocked up into him for more of that maddening, invasive masculinity.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He pulled down her panties, his fingers sliding in against her sex as if they had an incontestable right to do whatever the hell they wanted with her. “Fuck me, Anne. Fuck me out of my mind.” Two fingers drove straight into her sex.

Into.

Her sex.

Into her.

He was in her.

And he liked it. His face was fierce, gleeful, triumphant.

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