Page 96 of Brutal Vows

Impressed that she’s neither upset nor judging me, I incline my head.

“Do you have any viruses or infections I should know about?”

“No. I’m clean. I’ll get tested again so you’ll feel better, but in the meantime, we’ll use a condom.”

The pink in her cheeks deepens to red. “Now’s a good time to remind you that you promised I could say no if I wanted.”

I lean in to press a soft kiss to her luscious lips. “You don’t want to say no. And don’t bother denying it, because we both know it’s true.”

She sighs and mutters, “Part of me wants to say no, just not my vagina.”

I don’t know why having her so conflicted about her desire for me gets me so wound up, but if my cock gets any harder, it will split open the zipper on my trousers.

Cradling her face in my hand, I lean close to her ear and whisper, “Then let’s make a game of it, viper.”

After a beat of surprise, she says, “A game?”

“Aye. You can pretend you don’t want it, and I can pretend I don’t know you do.”

She squirms a little in my lap, pressing her thighs together.

She likes the idea.

But of course, she has to act like she doesn’t, because God forbid the woman would ever let me get the upper hand.

She says, “How would I know it was a game? It could just be you and your giant ego doing their usual thing.”

I kiss her softly under her ear, nuzzling her there, dragging her scent into my nose. She smells like nothing else in the world, no other fragrance or perfume. The scent isn’t flowery, cloying, or sweet, because her essence is none of those things.

She smells like some kind of dark, dangerous heaven made of female flesh and poisonous fruit and exotic spices. A garden of deadly delights that a man could wander into and get lost.

A place he could lose his mind along with his heart and soul.

I say, “We’d agree on it beforehand. For a set time in a set place, we’d pretend.”

“What if I didn’t like it?”

“We’d make a safe word. Like… Black Widow, for instance.”

She says tartly, “Or I could just punch you in the face.”

When I start to laugh, it makes her even more aggravated.

“I’m not your fuck toy, Quinn.”

“Not yet, you’re not.” I bite her throat, and she shivers.

But she doesn’t try to push me away. She lets me hold her and kiss her neck as we drive into the underground parking area at the hotel. She lets me fondle her thighs. She lets me squeeze her breasts through the beaded bodice of the gown, and when I pinch her hard nipple, she lets her head fall back so I can take her mouth.

When she curls her hand around the back of my neck, slides her fingers into my hair, and kisses me back eagerly, I know she’s as ready for this to happen as I am.

I just can’t say that aloud, or I’ll be eating a fist sandwich.

We get to the suite via a private underground elevator reserved for wealthy guests who like to stay incognito and can pay for the privilege. As soon as the elevator doors close behind us, I take her mouth again, pushing her against the wall and pressing my hips into hers so she knows exactly what she’s about to get.

She pushes me away, gasping. “Wait! I’m not mentally prepared for this!”

“I’ll give you two seconds. Go.”