Beneath These Lies (Page 31)
Glaring, I crossed my arms. “You can’t just break in whenever you want and take whatever you want. You have to stop.”
His laugh quieted and he shook his head. “I haven’t taken nearly everything I want. But it’s about time I do.”
He stepped forward, and I barely had time to breathe before his lips covered mine. His kiss was raw, unapologetic, and honest. The heat that had been growing in my belly while we argued seemed to burst into flames, licking up my body and burning away all my inhibitions.
Rix slid his hands under my ass and lifted me up to wind my legs around his waist. My arms twined around his neck and before I knew what was happening, we were moving. I didn’t care because I kept my lips on his, the kiss sustaining me, urging me on, wanting to be closer. The heat from his body burned through my clothes, and I wanted to touch that skin that I’d painted.
Doubt and warnings battered my brain, but in my mind, I’d thrown up a barricade against reality, wanting only to live in this moment. Wanting this man. Having this man.
Was this why I’d wanted to come and deliver my reprimand in person? Because I wanted this to happen?
I couldn’t answer my own question, and no other thoughts processed until Rix started moving. He tilted me down and my back pressed against something soft. Blinking my eyes open, dark jade walls and dark, heavy wood furniture came into view.
Rix’s bedroom. Rix’s bed.
I hadn’t made it that far in my self-guided tour of his house, but I knew that was where we were without question. It should have been the wake-up call I needed to snap out of this haze, but my barricade against reality kept out the thoughts that should have been screaming What the hell do you think you’re doing? Stop! Now! Before it’s too late.
I knew one thing for sure—it was already too late to stop this. I wanted Rix. And for once, since that night that changed my life irrevocably, I was going to leap without looking. I was going to take what I wanted. I wasn’t a victim anymore; I was a woman. And I could have what I wanted.
Rix didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess. He just kept his mouth on me as his hands roamed my body.
God, the feel of his hands on my body. Big, strong, kneading, coaxing, perfect.
I reached out to touch him, my palms meeting the hard planes and curves of muscle of his chest and shoulders. This was what all men should feel like. Strong. Capable. Amazing.
He finally lifted his head away, both our breaths coming in gasps and pants.
“Want you naked. Now.”
Nodding, I didn’t waste the oxygen or brainpower it would take to make words.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful, duchess.”
“Hurry up.” They were the only words I could even think to speak at that moment. Everything he was saying was everything I wanted. And I wanted it right now.
His mouth curved in satisfaction as he reached for the back of his T-shirt and yanked it up and over his head, revealing all of the muscles my hands had explored through the soft cotton. And let me tell you, holy hell, they were even better to see. The man’s body was art carved from bone and sinew. Smooth, sleek muscles built into the most aesthetically pleasing form I’d ever seen.
I’d never thought much about the differences in men’s bodies, but after seeing this man’s body, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look at another’s the same. In that moment, my standards of male beauty jumped up a notch, and God help me, but I didn’t ever want to lower those standards again. And I wanted to touch him, naked.
“You like what you see.”
It wasn’t a question. And God, why would it be? The man should have the ultimate confidence looking like that under his clothes.
“I want to see more,” I said. “All of it. Hurry.”
One side of his mouth quirked higher and I wanted to kiss the smirk off his face, but I wanted him to be naked even more.
I reached for the zipper that held my blouse together instead of buttons, and slowly lowered it inch by inch.
“Ah, woman, I didn’t think I could get any harder, but when you tease me like that . . .”
“Hurry.” I swear, my vocabulary had shrunk to that single word. I wanted more. I wanted him. I wanted it now.
Rix reached for his heavy silver belt buckle, which actually looked like brass knuckles, and unhooked it. When he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, he let them fall, the weight of the belt buckle taking them to the floor.
My sexy, slow unzipping motion froze when I realized he was wearing nothing beneath his worn jeans. Not a stitch. To the boxers or briefs question, Rix’s answer was neither.
And I completely approved.
Long and thick, his cock bobbed once it was free, and steadily rose toward his belly button.
The condoms I used to stuff in my purse before that infamous night that everything had changed would never have fit him. He was the myth, the legend, the magnum.
My mouth practically watered at the thought of getting that thick, dark, and beautiful cock between my lips.
Wait, what? Since when had I ever been that excited to suck a dick? I mean, yes, I loved the innate power I felt when I was able to bring a man to his knees that way, but I never actually desperately wanted to do it. That was something other women claimed to love to do, and secretly I thought they were all spewing loads of bullshit, because hello, sucking dick was kind of awkward.
But when I saw Rix’s perfect cock, it was like my instinctive feminine desire to please him bubbled up out of the primitive part of my brain. When had that happened before? Never.
Thinking too much, Valentina.
And all of a sudden, thinking was no longer a problem because Rix wrapped his hand around his perfect cock and squeezed and stroked, pre-cum already wetting the head.