I didn’t trust Jethro.
At all.
This was a battle.
Every time we touched, licked, and eventually fucked, it would be war.
And only one victor would come out alive.
I have every intention of winning.
Sex to me didn’t come with past perceptions or notions. Sex wasn’t wrapped up with love or sweetness in my brain. In a way, I had my father to thank for keeping me secluded and untouched. I’d uncovered an aptitude for delivering pleasure—an affinity for the basest of need.
I trembled, glowing so damn bright inside, I felt as if I’d swallowed the stars.
Jethro wanted me.
He couldn’t deny it. He didn’t want to deny it.
And I wasn’t above using my body to make him feel. Make the cold-hearted, untouchable bastard come apart beneath my touch.
Holding a man by his most precious body part and making him bow to my commands.
That was true power.
This was true power.
Testing my theory, I jerked my hand up and down, thinking of every text Kite had sent me. Every dirty innuendo he’d replied.
I’m stroking my cock.
I’m jerking hard.
Stroking. Jerking. Made sense. In a way the motion would be the crude action of fucking. Jethro would be forced to make love to my palm all while my fingers squeezed him to death.
With determination strong in my heart, I stroked.
Jethro wobbled on his knees, his eyes snapping closed. “Fuuuck,” he groaned as I squeezed hard, stroked even harder. There was no build up. No tease.
This is war.
Two sides. Two players. He’d made me come; now it was my turn to learn everything about him, so I could make him unravel.
Pushing his shoulder, I barely hid my victory smile as Jethro toppled backward. His eyes flared wide. “What the—”
I didn’t speak. Instead, I clambered closer, never stopping the mind-crippling stroke of his cock. Up and down. Twist and around.
His sharp gaze turned hazy, his lips parting as his breath grew heavy.
His hips thrust, just once. Surprise battling for supremacy over his need. I didn’t let him overthink it or realize I was winning. I crawled on top of him, spreading my legs, straddling his large, powerful bulk.
My heart strummed; my blood grew thick and cloying as every stroke I gave caused my inner muscles to clench. Giving him pleasure—taking his pleasure—was the headiest aphrodisiac.
I was a goddess. An accomplished geisha.
I lost track of lust versus vengeance. I didn’t care about last names or futures. All I wanted, all I focused on, was the sweetly plaited emotion where the rush between my legs took control.
My touch turned frantic, jerking rather than stroking.
His icy hands clamped around my hips, grinding himself hard against my grip. Our eyes locked, our breathing synced, we became two animals in the forest.
More.
I wanted more.
Yanking at his boxer-briefs, I tried to push them down. Jethro raised his hips, taking my weight with him as he gave me room to wrench his jeans and boxer-briefs to mid-thigh.
The moment his cock sprung free, thudding against his muscular stomach, he lashed out, fisting my hair and dragging my mouth to his.
My tongue tingled to taste him—to indulge in a kiss. But he held me firm, millimetres away from his lips. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he groaned as my fingers encircled the large girth of my enemy.
I didn’t reply, my mouth watering for his so temptingly close.
Dropping my hand to the base of him, I cupped his balls in my palm.
His back bowed as I rolled the heavy, delicate flesh. “Christ!”
My tummy twisted, my heart thundered, and my nakedness couldn’t hide how much his need turned me on.
His fingers went slack in my hair and I sprawled over him, unashamedly rubbing my throbbing core on his thigh. “You called me a disappointment. You said my hands were good for nothing but holding up my towel.” I squashed my breasts against his chest, snapping at his lips with the threat of a kiss. “Do you still believe that?”
I jerked my wrist, stroking the velvety flesh of his erection.
His eyes rolled back, his entire body vibrating.
“I’m proving you wrong.” I sat up, my gaze latching onto his hot cock. Smiling sweetly, I murmured, “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
His eyes stole mine. “There’s nothing about this that I want.”
I laughed—it sounded a little demented. “Who’s the liar now, Mr. Hawk?”
His hand snaked up to cup my throat, the other captured my hip. His face darkened. “You want the truth? I’ll give you the fucking truth.” His muscles contracted as he braced himself against my touch. “I want you begging me. I want you so damn hot—you’ll let me do anything to you.”
His raspy voice tore away my past, throwing me headfirst into sex.
I squeezed harder, riding his cock with my fingers, driving blood to blaze in the tip.
He’d gotten what he wanted. By letting me touch him, he’d made me seduce myself. I’d never craved to be filled before. But now…every inch of me felt empty and greedy and needful.
I’m fucking your mouth. I want to blow down your throat.
The text from Kite suddenly popped into my head as if his ghost watched over me, giving me instructions on how to destroy the man glowering into my eyes with a mix of rage and lust.
Fear wrapped around my heart as I looked at the angry erection in my hand. I doubted my jaw would accommodate it, but I’d try. I would try my hardest and give it my all to make him come.
Not to please him. But to ruin him. To prove I could control him as easily as he could control me.
I moaned as a delicious throb worked its way from my womb. I was hungry for another orgasm. Instead of sucking him, I toyed with the idea of impaling myself on his huge size, wanting so much to chase my own pleasure.
My eyes couldn’t look away from Jethro’s parted lips. I would’ve given anything to kiss him. To be devoured the way my body craved.
You can’t.
I shook my head, dispelling the connection. A kiss was too intimate. A kiss would destroy me.
Squirrel nuzzled closer, wondering what the hell we were doing, sniffing at the violent war taking place in the dark forest on a plaid blanket.
Jethro snarled, shoving him away.
In the same movement, he spread his legs, clenched his hands by his sides, and wordlessly gave himself to me.