Page 29 of Dirty Hearts

I didn’t want it to.

Lifting my leg, he pushed the fat head of his cock against the folds of my entrance. Taking my waist, he gripped me tight and slammed into me. I gasped again against the sensation of him filling me right up. Filling me and stripping away everything but my need for him. My passage quaked and trembled when he started to move, driving deeper, pumping faster, holding me tighter so he could ram into me and fuck me harder.

I moaned against his relentless thrusts and tried to meet him beat for beat, but I couldn’t. It felt too good for me to do anything but allow him to take me.

He started rutting into me like an animal, raw and primal. I wrapped both legs around him and made him press harder into the wall. My hair tangled with his when I leaned down to kiss him, and he caught my face. Cupping my cheek, kissing me back like he was trying to taste me.

Warmth filled me, reaching out to my heart. The kind of heart warmth a person felt when they were in love or happy, but I was neither. I didn’t know.

He’d fooled me into thinking it though. I could have easily believed it was true, because this felt real. This intimate kiss, this intimate moment we shouldn’t be having.

The moment broke when he groaned and sped up, jackhammering into me, and I arched back again, crying out from the intense pleasure that wracked my soul.

A greedy orgasm gripped this time, making my body its slave, making me dizzy with desire. He groaned again, deep and low, coming in a rush of hot cream that poured inside me.

He stayed inside me, allowing my body to milk him while he returned his lips to mine.

My heart…it was beating so fast. Wild against his.

He held me close until we both calmed.

That was when reality came rushing back on me.

I expected to have thatWhat did I do? moment. That moment of shame to at least feel freaked that I’d just had unprotected sex with a man I was supposed to hate, but it didn’t come.

It never came because no matter how much I wanted to fool myself or tell myself that I hated him, I didn’t.

I slid off him, and he seemed to switch to autopilot. He grabbed some tissues from a Kleenex box and to my horror started cleaning me up, then himself.

I just watched him. He fixed his pants and gathered my clothes, handing them to me.

“Get dressed. You’re coming home with me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he was being serious.

“You’re coming home with me.”

“What if I say no?”

He pressed his hand just over my head and got close again. “Then we stay here and fuck to death, Angel Doll. You choose. I don’t mind either. It’d be a great way to go.” He cupped my right breast and ran his finger over the tight, taut nipple. “What’ll it be, Angel? Answer quickly. I’m getting hard again.”

I lost my mind again. It was him touching me. “Take me home.”

At my answer, his eyes clouded over in a sexual haze, a sexual haze that spoke of the wild pleasure that awaited me.

Chapter 7

Claudius

* * *

Jesus Christ.

I didn’t know what the hell had possessed me earlier, but it was like suddenly all my reasonings and logic on why I shouldn’t be with Ava made no sense.

It was what she said that snapped me.

All that she believed; it was a lie. Lies I made her believe. And why wouldn’t she believe it all? There was no surprise. All that she said to me was exactly what it looked like.