"Do you like it? Being a Henchmen?" I clarified.
"It's almost like having a family."
"And you've never really had one of those?" I guessed.
"Had blood relatives, not family. It's why I know that birthdays alone suck, duchess. Even if ya try to tell yerself that they're no big deal."
"I felt myself stiffen at that. "So, this was a pity-"
I lost the rest of my sentence when Adler shifted. Fast. So fast that I barely even noticed the movement until it was over. But he turned, moved in closer, making Linny hop off me with a grumble as his hand moved out, pressing over my mouth, silencing me.
"Sh." His hands were firm, but just to the point of discomfort. "Don't do that," he demanded. Or pleaded. Or a mix of the two. As odd as that was. "I get that ya are suspicious. I get that yer whole life revolves around fuckheads that make ya feel dirty just by being near 'em, that bullshite ya, and try to con ya. Lie to ya. But if there is one thing I can promise ya I won't do, it's lie to ya. Got that?" he asked, waiting until I gave him a nod. I could fight him off, we both knew that, but I somehow didn't want to. "Good. So ya know I ain't lying to ya when I say that the last fuckin' thing I feel toward ya is pity."
His hand slipped, moving from my lips, but not dropping, sliding to my jaw. "What do you feel about me then?"
"This," he told me a second before his lips claimed mine.
They did that, too.
Claimed.
Branded.
Took.
Demanded.
As if I had any defenses left at all with regard to him.
The second his lips slanted over mine, my body was shifting on the couch, turning, facing him fully.
I pressed up to my knees, crushing my chest to his, letting out a low whimper as my overly sensitive breasts met the hard line of his chest.
A growl rumbled through him at hearing it.
His hand left my jaw, and both slid down my back, sinking hard into my ass, yanking me forward, closing what little space was left between us, pulling me up onto his lap.
My legs curled around his lower back, giving me just enough leverage to grind against him, moaning against his lips as his cock pressed into where I desperately needed him.
He ripped away from me at the sound, watching my eyes as he dragged my pussy against him again, drawing another whimper out of me.
"Yeah, duchess, that. That is what I have been feelin' about ya since the fuckin' moment I met ya."
Unable to stop once I got the feel of him, finally, finally got the feel of him, I ground down on him again, my head crashing into his shoulder on a whimper as the need coiled deep in my belly.
"Why the fuck ya been fighting this for so long, malishka?" he asked, the sound a low, raspy rumble that made my insides go liquid.
"I don't know," I admitted in an airy whisper as my lips found the scruffy skin at his neck.
"Ya done fightin' now?" he asked, hands slipping up to slide under my panties, his rough palms sinking back into my bare ass, fingers close, so, so fucking close to where I was dying for touch.
"Yes," I groaned, teeth nipping into his earlobe.
"Thank fuck," he growled, shifting suddenly, tossing me down on my back on the couch, his body coming over mine in an instant, head dipping to claim my neck like I had his, the roughness of his face guaranteeing a burn I would see and feel there for days after, reminding me of this, this feeling of rightness, of first time excitement - something I wasn't entirely sure I had ever experienced before.
That was until a buzzing started in Adler's front pocket, just an inch away from a spot that would seriously solve my current predicament.
He pushed up, looking down at me with heavy lids, an amused curve to his lips.
"Think if I shift just a little..." he started to tease, but the phone stopped. Then picked up again in under three seconds.
His brows creased.
And through the fog of my own desire, I could sense it. Something was off.
"Get it," I suggested, pressing him backward with my legs, trying to pretend it wasn't killing me to do so. "It might be important," I added, taking a slow, deep breath, trying to bring order to my chaotic system as he sat back on his heels, fishing his phone out of his pocket while his eyes showed me nothing but need and regret.
"This better be..." he started to growl into the phone, cutting off abruptly, his face falling. "Ferryn?" he asked, his voice a choked thing, making me shift back, sit up, watch with a churning in my stomach that had nothing to do with desire. "I'm on my way," he agreed, ending the call.