Page 115 of Touch of Hate

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Page 115 of Touch of Hate

I can’t keep my hands off her, running them over her slippery skin, my hunger growing with every touch until there’s no choice but to shove her against the marble wall. She gasps—from the force or maybe the sensation of cool marble against her hot skin.

The sound fills the stall regardless of the reason, cut off when I cover her mouth with mine and thrust my tongue inside.

Plundering, pillaging, the victorious conqueror and his conquest. Who am I kidding? I conquered her a long time ago—just as she conquered me.

Her pussy draws me in like a flame drawing a moth to fire. I have no choice but to touch her there, where she’s wetter than the skin now being pummeled by the hot, steamy spray.

It turned her on, watching me beat the shit out of that guy for her sake.

“You never have to worry, angel,” I whisper over the sound of her helpless moans, fingers delving through her sopping folds.

Two fingers slide easily into her slick heat, causing her back to arch, her body melting against mine as if I hit the magic button to make it do so.

“You’ll always be mine,” I rasp against her ear while she moans into mine, riding my fingers like she’ll ride my cock soon. “Always. No one will take you from me.”

Her nails rake over my back, hips jerking frantically to meet my fingers. She’s already so close—her body responding even more strongly than I imagined, and the thought leaves me fucking her mercilessly with my fingers.

“Say it,” I growl over her animal moans. “You’re mine. No one takes you from me, angel.”

Her mouth falls open, and her brow creases like she’s concentrating hard. “Yours,” she whines.

Not good enough. “No one takes you from me. Right?”

Her head bobs up and down frantically while her breath comes faster and faster, her body tight and tensed.

“Yes! Oh, please, I’m going to come. Let me come.”

No. I pull my fingers from her tight channel.

Her eyes fly open, a moan dying on her lips. “No, no! Please!” Pain sizzles across my shoulders, her nails digging into the flesh. “I’m so close.”

“Not until you give me what I want.”

When all she can do is blink rapidly, her chest still heaving, the hand I close around her throat seems to bring her back to reality.

As does the presence of my cock. I impale her on it with one sure stroke, lifting her onto her tiptoes. She’s entirely mine, body and soul, locked with me. Her very life is in my hands—a squeeze of her throat reminds her of this, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

And something else. Something that reaches inside me and stirs up all my darkest, most devious impulses. It’s the darkness in her, I realize. The darkness that’s always been there, the only reason she’d be drawn to a man like me.

Behind her innocent blue eyes, it’s there, stirring to life at the knowledge of my control over her.

“Give me what I want, angel,” I whisper, still buried inside her. “And you’ll get what you need. You’ll cream all over my cock the way your body is dying to.”

I withdraw slightly before driving myself deeper, hard enough to make her wince. And to make her muscles tighten around me in response.

“No one,” I growl, punctuating it with a deep thrust. “Takes you.” Another, so hard I grit my teeth. “From me.”

“No one,” she squeals, barely audible because of the pressure on her throat.

“Again.”

“No one.”

I quicken my rhythm, the need to lose myself in her overtaking the need to hear her submission. Her pledge of loyalty.

“Never?”

“Never, oh god, Ren… never.”




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