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“You’re a soul sucking, manipulative, entitled, spoiled monster.”

The grin vanishes. “What’s the point of being civil then?” he says, forcing my hands behind my back. His pelvis bumps against mine, and there’s no mistaking the hard bulge of his aroused cock. I struggle against him, but he only tightens his grip. “You want to see the monster inside?” He flings me on the bed and climbs on top of me, knees pinning me in. “I’m happy to let him loose.”

“Miller no—”

His mouth crashes against mine, lips rough and punishing. It’s a different sort of kiss than the one I just shared with Grayson—although equally thrilling. His hands push at the hem of my shirt, and he only backs off long enough to yank it over my head. “You call me manipulative,” he says, palms covering my tits, squeezing them together. “You used these to get exactly what you wanted tonight. Those clerks would have done anything to get a taste of them.”

“That wasn’t—” he kisses me again, pinching my nipple between his fingers. I cry out, but he swallows it, sweeping his tongue against mine. After a moment of push and pull, of forcefully coaxing mine into compliancy, he eases back.

His nose is inches from mine, and his finger gently runs between my breasts down to my navel. His tone is oh so innocent when he asks, “That wasn’t what? What bitches do to get what they want? Show off their bodies? Tease and taunt?”

I clamp my knees shut, but he uses his knees to keep them open, grinding his pelvis against mine. Traitorous heat burns between my legs and my hips buck back on impulse, seeking friction. “Stop—” I cry, working my hands between us and trying to push him back. He’s too big—too strong.

To my shock, he jumps off, but it’s immediately obvious that he’s not done. He reaches over his head and pulls off his shirt, revealing smooth tan skin and the ladder of muscles running down his abdomen. I watch him, aware of the hot burn in my lower belly. Hating myself for it.

“Tell me, kitten. Is that what you really want? For me to stop?”

Whatdo Iwant? When has that ever been anyone’s concern? But the dark glint in his eye, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, brings about a wave of desire.

I just want to make this night something other than a tragic shit-show.

To feel something other than lost. I want to feel like a girl who is wanted, not just used.

A hot tear builds in the corner of my eye, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep it from falling.

He steps forward and wipes the tear off my cheek. Again, he asks, “What doyouwant, Reagan?”

“Don’t pretend like you care.” I look up at him, absorbing the warm skin and dangerous glint in his eye. “I know you’re going to punish me for leaving with Janelle. For protecting her and risking this whole mission. You should just do it. Punish me. I deserve it.”

He opens his mouth to speak but swallows the words back, reaching out and hooking his fingers in beltloops of my jeans. They’re loose, and he yanks them down, taking the boxer briefs with them, then tossing both on the floor.

I should run, fight, scream, but I just watch as his thumb pushes at the button of his low-slung jeans and they drop, piling next to mine. He’s bare underneath, and he reaches for his cock. It’s blistering red, hard, and glistening at the tip. He strokes it up and down, pushing and pulling at the taut skin.

It’s the last thing I should do, the absolute insane, wrong,what the fuck am I doing, thing to do, but I reach for him and run my fingers down his shaft. He hums, the sound coming from deep in his throat and bends, kissing me along my stomach, up my breasts to my neck. He’s so warm. Hard. Powerful. He’s exactly who he is and nothing else. He’s not hiding behind a mask, a position, or a calling.

He's Miller Hansen.

Amonster.

And when he touches me between my legs, I’m ready for him. Wet and hot. Knees falling to the side. I don’t fight him. I’m ready to be done with this—done with him.

“This isn’t a punishment for saving your friend. It’s for going off with another man—a man that doesn’t understand that you. Are. Mine.”

The pads of his fingers brushing against my clit, sliding in the slick heat. There’s no hiding my desire. My body has betrayed me. I buck against his hand, and he rises to crash his mouth against mine.

This time there’s no resistance, just two bodies in synch. I fall into the taste of him, bitter liquor matched with something sweet. His touch is firm, but not the harsh punishment from before. He stokes the fire building inside of me, the one dying to let loose, the inferno waiting to explode, thrusting two fingers inside. They curve, applying pressure in places I didn’t know existed.

“Jesus,” I breathe, “God.”

He chuckles against my skin. “You said it, not me.” He withdraws his fingers, forcing me to cry out, but I feel the hard press of his tip against my entrance. I wait for the invasion—the final barrier to be broken between us.

He hovers over me, forehead resting against mine, blue eyes blazing with an intensity I’ve never seen before. I freeze, terrified he’s changed his mind, that he’s just taunting and toying with me. Another twisted move in his fucked-up game.

His fingers glide down my cheek. “What do you want, Reagan?”

“I don’t know.” For a second, his determination falters, eyes shuttering. My belly drops, and that’s when I realize I don’t want him to stop. I arch my back and I grab him by the hips. “Fuck me, Miller.” I bite down on his bottom lip. “I just want to feel you inside.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, kitten.” He grins wolfishly, teeth bared, and his hips rear back before he plunges into me, stretching me from the inside, filling me to the point I can’t breathe.