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Chapter EightADRIAN

I tell myself to get up, not to kiss her, not to hold her this close. The more I take from her, of her, the more she’ll hate me for it later, and yet she’ll hate me no matter what. And hate is hate.

Now is now and the rest can’t be changed.

With a mental “fuck it” I decide now is all we’re guaranteed, and my mouth closes down on Pri’s. I lick deep, drinking her in, the sweet taste of whiskey, chocolate, and sin on my tongue. She moans and my cock thickens, my body a live charge of lust, and that’s what I want this to be: lust, just lust.

Her fingers dive into my hair, tangling there, heat coursing through my veins, and I tell myself that this draw to Pri isn’t just lust. It’s about the forbidden. She’s forbidden. We’re crossing lines and I’ve learned I do that too damn well. I like living on the edge far too much and too easily.

I’m playing a dangerous game and doing it with the wrong woman. Pri will soon know too much about me, see too much of me, and I tell myself that’s the draw. My desire for her is fed by a burn to live on the edge. I did it for so long that I don’t know how to stop. Or maybe the truth is far more complex. All I know is that I want her more than I remember wanting anyone, ever.

“Adrian,” she whispers, eager for me when she’s too smart to go down this path, and yet she does with me. What the hell is she thinking?

She pants into my mouth, and my teeth nip her bottom lip, punishing it while my tongue laves the offended skin. She tugs at my T-shirt and I pull it over my head, tossing it aside, kissing her again, hard and fast, unable to wait for more. I always want more of her.

My fingers slide under the white tee Pri wears, my white tee, that’s on her body. Warm, soft skin greets me and my hand finds her breast, teasing her nipple. She arches into my touch and I shove the cotton up just enough to bare her nipple, licking and sucking the pink puckered tip.

Her soft sounds of pleasure undo any resistance I have left as if I’ve ever had any with Pri. I drag the T-shirt over her head, my gaze raking over her perky naked breasts, my cock pressing against my zipper.

My mouth covers hers again and my hand slides under her backside, cupping her cheek, and molding all her soft, fuckable curves nice and close. We’re fucking. This is us fucking, just fucking.

Her fingers dive into my hair again and tug roughly, and there it is, that side of her that tempts me in all kinds of dirty ways. She thinks she understands me, even knows me, but she hasn’t even begun to see who I am. What I am. And damn it to hell, I want to show her. I want to show her and I want her to be able to handle it, but that’s not what just fucking is about. Fucking is about not caring if she can handle it.

I pinch her nipple a little too hard, and she gasps in my mouth and repays the favor, her fingernails digging erotically into my arm. “You’re afraid of me,” she accuses.

Stunned, I pull back, our lips lingering a breath apart. “You’re the one who should be scared.”

“And yet, I’m not.”

“You will be,” I promise, and I don’t give her time to push for more. I slant my mouth over hers and a wild, hot need erupts between us. I want my tongue all over her, I want to drive her wild, but the absolute physical need to bury myself inside her, to feel her warm and tight around me is just too fierce. My hands slide under her waistband and caress the oversize sweats down her legs, all the way down. I get rid of her shoes and socks as well, and then she is naked, her ivory skin flushed, while my heart is pounding.

Our eyes meet and there’s a punch in my chest I have never known with another woman. She sits up, her arms wrapping my neck, and I lower myself over her. But I don’t kiss her. I lean in and bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent that is still somehow, impossibly fresh and feminine. She’s naked, while I am not, still proving herself willing to be vulnerable, and at my mercy, and I don’t know why. She is not naïve. She is not even close to naïve.

Suddenly, an urge to push her the way she wants to be pushed, the way I almost pushed her at the cabin overtakes me. I could make her see that darker side of me, but damn it, I’m not ready to let her go.


Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Walker Security - Adrian's Trilogy Erotic