Page 31 of No Longer Mine
But where was the fun in that?
I wanted to chase her.
I smelled her on my skin—expensive and exotic, something that made my blood thrum. Yanking my shirt over my head, I pressed it to my nose. Fuck. I was hard. With a groan, I dragged a hand through my hair, my gaze snapping to the heels on the counter.
With a tight grasp on my shirt and her heels in one hand, I marched up the stairs. Determination sang through my veins like never before. It was almost like I was in a trance. I could still see her in the corner of my room, fighting me off.
My pulse pounded as I shoved open my bedroom door, stripping as I moved, my cock already aching, heavy, and desperate for relief. By the time I collapsed onto my mattress, my breathing was rough, my skin burning with heat and frustration. I fisted myself, my grip already tight, already needing more as I stroked down my cock. The first pass sent a sharp jolt of pleasure and pain up my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth.
I stroked harder, my grip firm, my pace steady but merciless.
I imagined her mouth wrapping around me, imagined her tongue teasing the head before she took me deep, those green eyes flicking up, daring me to lose control.
A shudder raked down my spine.
I sucked in a breath through my teeth, dragging my free hand down my abdomen.
Would she bite her lip to stop from moaning? Would she scream if I fucked her into the mattress?
Or would she laugh—teasing me, testing me, begging me to break her?
A snarl tore from my throat.
My hips bucked up into my hand, my strokes getting faster, rougher, and more desperate.
The scent of her clung to my shirt, and I buried my face in it—inhaling deep— letting it fuel the burning need roaring through me. My abs tightened as heat curled at the base of my spine. My body coiled tighter as I pumped faster into my hand.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I was so close.
I could still see her flashing smirk with fear in her eyes as she slipped through my fingers.
Still feel her slamming that heel into my shoulder.
Still hear the sharp gasp when I’d trapped her against the wall.
I let out a ragged groan, my body tensing as my orgasm ripped through me. Thick ropes spilled across my stomach as my hips jerked against my own grip. I rode it out slowly, panting, as my body shook from the force of it.
A harsh laugh tore from my lips as I lay back, trying to catch my breath. My eyes flicked to the discarded stilettos at the end of the bed.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, my grip tightening one last time around my cock as the last tremors of pleasure faded.
I smirked, tossing my ruined shirt onto the floor, rolling my shoulders as the soreness burned through me.
“What the fuck are you doing to me, Little Fox?”
Chapter Sixteen
Scarlett
My phone sailedthrough the air, and I barely caught it before it smacked me in the face.
Cleo strolled into the apartment like she didn’t have a single care in the world, her wig clutched under her arm, bare feet padding across the floor. Her signature red lipstick smeared down her chin, the color smudged over her jaw like a brand. Her eyes were bright, lips swollen, and dress askew.
I raised a brow, dragging myself up from the lumpy couch I’d passed out on. “Looks like you had an eventful night.”
Cleo grinned, but her sharp gaze scanned me, the humor flickering into something more observant and far more suspicious.
