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No one could ever say he wasn’t tenacious, could they? “I honestly don’t get why you can’t drop this. You only ever meant for the fling to be temporary, so I don’t see an issue here.”

“The issue is that you’re not being upfront with me.” He pushed to his feet, making her heart thud in her chest. He leisurely stalked toward her, all smolder and danger and dominant male energy, only halting when there were mere inches between their bodies. Sexual tension crackled in the air, making the hairs on her nape stand on end and her body get all tingly and stuff. Gah, she should not have let him in.

“Is there someone else?”

The oh so casual question made her nape prickle. “I already told you there isn’t. It’s just time to go our separate ways.”

“Why? What we had was good.”

“What we had was sex. A fling. It was no different from the others you’ve had in the past.”

His jaw hardened. “It was different.” The admission seemed torn out of him.

“How?”

“It was exclusive, for one thing. I didn’t demand exclusivity from my past casual partners. I didn’t give a whisper of a shit if they slept with other men. I also never fucked any of them in my bed—only you. So yeah, Havana, it was different.”

Oh. Well. Okay. She hadn’t known that. Determined not to be moved by it, she shrugged one shoulder and said, “I was still only a plaything to you.”

“Plaything?” he echoed, dropping his voice a few octaves. “You liked it when I played with you. Liked it when I used you. Tasted you. Pinned you down. Fucked you however I wanted to fuck you.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “But you were never just a plaything to me.”

As need rose sharp and fast inside her, Havana clenched her fists so tight she felt her nails dig into her palms. She knew she should shove him away, but it was hard to be sensible when so much sexual tension pulsed in the air.

He moved his mouth to her ear. “Do you remember the first night I had you? I slammed you against my front door the moment I closed it. I would have taken you right there in my hallway … but you weren’t going to make it easy for me. You ran, you struggled, you fought. But then you yielded, and I took you on my dining table with your legs hooked over my shoulders. Fucked you so deep and raw you screamed for me. I’ve never come that hard in my life. Not until I had you the next time. And the next time. And the next time.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She was easily seduced by words and he knew it. Knew her “trigger words,” so to speak. Knew exactly what buttons to push.

He breezed his thumb over her lower lip—it was such a soft touch, and yet she felt it in her core. “You remember, don’t you?”

“Sort of.” She let out a shaky breath as his big hands possessively spanned her waist. “Tate.”

Humming, Tate buried his face in her neck and breathed her in, letting her luscious scent fill him up. He’d missed it. “Just your scent alone makes my dick hard.” There was nothing subtle or delicate about that staggeringly irresistible blend of cherry blossom, rich jasmine, and fresh lotus flower. And when it was spiced with arousal just as it was right then, that scent could bring him to his knees.

He ground his teeth as the impulse to mark her began to pulse in his chest like an aching wound, becoming more of a need than an urge. Tate refused to answer it. Leaving a mark of possession was one thing. Marking someone as an exertion of dominance was a whole other thing. He’d never do that to Havana.

Wanting to feel more of her, he snaked his hand down her stomach, heading for her pussy. But her fingers curled tight around his wrist and stilled his hand.

“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what, baby? Don’t touch you? Don’t taste you? Don’t give us what we both want?” He caught her earlobe with his teeth and gave it a light nip. “Tell me it doesn’t feel good when I’m inside you. Tell me you haven’t missed it.”

Keeping a tight hold on his wrist, she placed his hand at his side. “You need to step back.” Her voice cracked.

“I don’t think you want me to.” He trailed his finger down one side of her face. So soft. Her pupils were dilated, her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing wasn’t quite steady. Still, she looked him directly in the eye, bold and sure. His cat loved that. “I also don’t think you really wanted to end things between us. Everything was fine. You were fine. Then something changed.”


Tags: Suzanne Wright The Olympus Pride Erotic