Page 120 of The Brit

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My skin heats, and I brace my palms on the tile wall before me, dropping my head, watching the red tinged water swirl down the drain until it’s running clear. When her hands leave my body, I lazily turn to face her. She claims me and tugs me forward, sliding her arms over my shoulders and going straight for my mouth. I spin us and we crash into the wall, all teeth and tongues, groans and whimpers. Bullets of hot water hit my back, my hands sliding over her arse onto her thighs, pulling her legs up to my waist. Her muffled yelp mixes with my suppressed bark when her pussy skims the tip of my cock. Inside her. It’s all I can focus on. Just getting inside her. Reaching between us, I grab my cock and guide it to her, nudging her face away when she tries to hide in my neck. “Look at me,” I demand, hoarse and curt, pushing her up the wall on a scream with my first ruthless drive. Her jaw tight, she bores down, fiercely trying to match my approach to our union. “You want to play, huh?” I tease, drawing back and slamming home on a grunt.

Her teeth grit, and once again she grinds down, taking every thick, throbbing inch of me until I growl. “Do you?” she asks, working her fingers up into my hair and giving it a brutal yank.

My smirk must be borderline cruel, my fingers digging into the backs of her thighs. “With you? Always.” I ram home once more on a roar, and Rose hisses, gripping my hair harder.

“Then let’s play.” She slams her mouth on mine and moves her hands to my back, sinking her nails into my shoulder blades and dragging them down. I squirm, tensing and pushing my front forward, as I match the frantic, hungry pace of her tongue, our kiss crazy. I slam into her unforgivingly, pound after pound, eliciting scream after scream, and it feels so fucking good. We both need this. Crazy, uncontrolled madness amid the madness. Madness we’re both in control of.

My torso presses her to the tiles, enabling my hands to reach up to her hair. I fist it and cling on, pinning her head to the wall and holding her eyes as we tumble down the void of never-ending pleasure. When we hit the bottom, it’s going to hurt. My manic pumps become more urgent, Rose’s yells into my face fueling me.

And when it strikes, it takes both of us out, bringing me to my knees on the shower floor, Rose clinging to me as I shout my way through the force. I mildly feel her teeth in my shoulder, her body rolling against mine. My arm circles her waist, and I lower to the floor, splayed on my back, my labored breathing not being helped by the hot, steamy air drenching us. “Was that dessert?” she wheezes, stuck to my front, her cheek on my pec.

“That was main and dessert.” I smile when she looks up at me; she’s a vision of soaked perfection. “Is madam satisfied?”

“No.” She sighs, settling her head back on my chest. “I could binge on you forever and never feel full.”

“Greedy.”

She shrugs, unapologetic, and settles. “What now?”

I’m not burdening her with what happens next. Today was a gift. Sick as it sounds, but I know Rose, and I know she would want to see for herself that the root of her misery is dead. Now I need to kill off the stems of that root. “Now, you don’t worry about a thing.” I negotiate us up off the floor and place her under the spray, ignoring her indignant face. I shampoo her hair, rinse, and work through some conditioner, and all the while I can hear her mind working overtime. When I’m done cleaning her, I take care of myself while she dries off, and the moment I step out from the spray, I can see she’s ready to launch an attack of questions. Her mouth opens and I slam my palm over it. “What did I say?” I ask, forcing her eyes into slits. I release my palm for her to talk.

“I want to know what you’re going to do.”

“No, you don’t,” I assure her, walking away. “You’re not going anywhere near him.”

“And I don’t want you to, either.” She makes chase, following me into the bedroom. “He’ll hurt my son, Danny. That’s his ace card, and Ernie gave it to him.”

With my back to her, I close my eyes briefly, searching for calm. “He won’t hurt your son,” I assure her.

“How do you know?” She grabs my shoulder and yanks me back to face her. “That’s what he’ll do. That’s his promise every time he thinks I need reminding of my place. Of who I belong to.”


Tags: Jodi Ellen Malpas Romance