“Last chance to back out,” he said as he carved a path back up her neck with his tongue. His fingers grasped the waistband of Elise’s jeans at the small of her back and began to pull. Cool air kissed her heated flesh as he peeled her garments off, exposing her.
“I’m not backing out,” she informed him. In fact, Elise was determine to see this through. When would she find another opportunity to experience this? To experience this overpowering feeling of excitement? She would only live once, and as it happened, it may be her last chance to do anything so adventurous or risky.
“Good, because I wouldn’t let you anyway.”
Ominous words, Elise mused. In any other situation, she would take it as a threat, and an unwelcome one at that. But she was invested, and his words only served to fuel the fire burning within her.
Pinned against the wall, her pants pulling tight against her thighs, Elise clung to her deliciously sexy captor as he tugged at his own pants. Releasing himself, she felt his hard cock spring free and tap against her cleft. She was already dripping wet, but the feel of his flesh against hers made it so much worse.
A pinch of glorious pain brought on by an increasingly aching need to feel him inside her caused Elise to moan loudly, and being the gentleman that he was, Manhandler endeavored to relieve her right away.
Crushing his mouth to hers, he guided himself inside her, inch by glorious inch, stretching and filling Elise until she cried out. He swallowed her moans, one after another, forcing more out with each thrust of his hips. Elise’s fingers pulled at his hair, her nails scratched at his scalp, and her teeth bit down on his lips. She feasted on him, like an animal, a woman possessed.
She’d never felt more out of control in her life.
“That’s it, buttercup. Fuck me,” Manhandler commanded, and it was then she realized she was moving in time with him, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust. His fingers on her ass dug in, peeling her cheeks apart and angling her hips so she could take him even further, and that made all the difference in the world.
Elise felt the orgasm explode without warning, expanding out from every cell like a supernova, swallowing up her very consciousness until she was reduced to a mass of sensation without collective thought.
“Oh, God!” she screamed, uncaring who heard her. There was no room for shyness or reservation in a moment like that. She was a slave to her primal mind, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Oh fuck, yeah! Your pussy is gripping me so tight,” Manhandler grunted as he began pounding into her with earnest. He was a man on a mission, driving her back into the plaster, the sheer power of his thrusts threatening to break her.
Elise would have bruises, of that she had no doubt. But she was loving every second of his brutal attack. It was raw, unfettered, and everything she craved. She’d take everything he gave her and relish in the memories afterward. Even if he was a dick. Even if he was her captor.
Because she’d rather spend her last moments on this planet living rather than feeling nothing at all.
Chapter Eight
“What’s your name?” Elise asked, her voice heavy with the need for sleep. For once, she didn’t care about the potential filth of the bed linens or the age of the mattress in which they laid on. She was warm and content resting against her captor’s chest, which had long since returned to its normal breathing pattern.
She was doing her damnedest not to get attached, but she couldn’t deny that she was already counting the beats of his heart and enjoying the sound of it far more than she should.
“As opposed to Manhandler, you mean?” he asked jokingly.
“Yes,” she said with an easy smile.
His fingers trailed lightly down her arm, raising goose bumps. “Marcus. But don’t call me that unless we’re alone.”
Because his partner would flip out? Elise wasn’t about to test that theory. “Okay.”
“What’s yours?”
“As opposed to buttercup?” she asked with a teasing lilt.
“Just for future reference, of course.”
“Elise. My name is Elise.”
“Elise…” Marcus said, trying it out, and Elise experienced a shiver of renewed awareness at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His finger curled beneath her chin, tilting her face up toward his. Those denim blues bore into her, reaching something unnamable deep inside of her. “I like you, Elise. Far more than is advisable.”
Her heart sprinted. “I feel the same about you.” Hope sprung up inside of her. Had she reached that human part of him? Had she managed to secure her release rather than sign her death warrant?
“That doesn’t mean I won’t do what I have to do, though.”