Page 21 of Don’t Hate Me (Secrets of Ravens Hollow #2)

I’m curled up on the sofa with my book when Orlando joins me in the living room with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand.

I glance up at him quickly, then back to my book.

I haven’t been able to look at him properly since he left me naked and practically begging him to finish me off on the dining room table this morning.

I’m still vibrating with need and reading this spicy book doesn’t help my problem. Part of me wants to test him, see what would happen if I just stripped bare in front of him right now and started playing with myself because he won’t. What would he make of that?

As I read about Cynthia sucking on Rhett’s cock while Dominic eats her out, a pool of wetness drenches my panties.

In my imagination it’s Orlando on his knees in front of me while I suck Romeo’s cock.

Twins, that could be damn interesting. Especially twins that hate each other.

Would they be able to share me? And why the hell do I hope so.

The book is suddenly snatched from me. “Hey, give it back,” I snap, my eyes rising to meet a curious Orlando’s.

“I want to know what made my treasure blush in that way.” He towers above me, his lips curling at the sides as he reads over the page I was on.

In a rush, I get to my feet, trying to snatch my book back from him, not wanting him to see what I was reading. But he wrestles me into a hug with one of his heavy arms over my chest so I can’t move my arms. “You’re an asshole,” I tell him.

“‘I concentrate on Rhett’s massive cock, bobbing up and down as Dominic sucks on my clit, sending waves of pleasure over me. I feel alive for the first time in my life, these two men pleasuring me in a way I have never experienced.’” He reads straight from the page I was on then closes the book.

His lips dust over my ear in a way that sends shivers over my skin.

“I knew you would like this one.” His words ghost over me.

From this position I can also feel how damn hard his cock is pressing into my ass. This turns him on as well.

“You’re a pussy tease, you know that? You get me all worked up then you leave me hanging. Now you want to torment me some more.”

He moves me so we are eye to eye. “You’re the one tormenting me, sitting here in those shorts, your long bare legs just begging to have my fingers trace the line all the way from your feet to where the hem starts. Your cheeks growing pinker as you read each dirty word.”

I blink back at him, my lashes fluttering. “I was just sitting here minding my own business and now I’m going for a cold shower.”

“Better not be to relieve the tension.”

“Why wouldn’t I, knowing you’re not going to do the job for me,” I sass back, sick of his rules.

He glares back at me, and I know he’s trying to intimidate me, but I’m not scared of him. I would like him to finish what he started this morning, though.

“Will you be watching? I’ll make sure to put on a nice show for you,” I say, way flirtier than I should, but two can play at this game. I know he wants me, even if he’s holding back. I’m going to tease him till he tips over the edge and gives me what I want.

His brow rises slowly, and he watches me with fresh interest. “Is that what you want?”

I place a hand on my hip. “Since when do you do what I want? Don’t you just watch me because you can’t take your eyes off me?”

His eyes drop down my face, lingering on my lips for longer than they should. “Do you want me to watch you shower, Sloane?” he asks again.

My heart kicks up at beat knowing I do, but I can’t just say that to him.

Who wants to admit they like being watched when doing something so private?

It’s fucked up. I try to take a step back from him and get some space, but he has a firm hold on me.

“You will do whatever you want anyway. The lure of watching me soap up my naked body will be too much to resist.” Oh God, I need to shut my mouth, but I can’t stop.

His lips twist up at the sides. “If that’s what you want. Put on a show for me then, treasure.”

My palms go all sweaty. Oh fuck. This is what I wanted, to push him a little further.

But now that I have him here, I don’t know what to do.

Part of me thinks he’s holding back from me because of our past and he maybe knows he’s dangerous for me.

But this feels like inviting the tiger into my den. I know he’s going to eat me alive.

He releases me and motions for me to walk by him toward his bedroom.

Oh God, we’re doing this. Maybe he’s not so different from his brother; Romeo would have challenged me just like this and had that stupid charming smirk on his lips as well.

I walk in front of him, butterflies dancing in my stomach.

Will it all get too much for him watching me?

Will he give in and finally join me, and why do I hope so?

When I make it to the bathroom, he lingers in the doorway.

I don’t know where I find it, if it’s the way his eyes light up with desire or if it’s just my inability to turn down a competition, but I turn back toward him, feeling all of a sudden way braver than I should.

I unzip the fly on the short white linen shorts I have on, letting them fall to the tile floor.

Next, I go for the tank top, tugging it over my head.

My eyes find his, my lips twisting up at the sides in a challenge.

His eyes rake over my body from head to toe. “Keep going.”

Fuck, why is his instruction such a turn-on?

I have no idea, but my nipples are digging into my lace bra, just begging to be played with.

I lean into the counter while I remove my ankle brace.

Then lock my eyes back with his as I unclasp my bra and let it fall to the tile floor.

The cool air running over my bare skin sends a scattering of goosebumps over my tits.

Heat flashes in his eyes, and it makes me want to keep going.

I hook my thumbs in the sides of my thong and slide it down my legs, and his eyes follow my fingers all the way down to my toes then back up again. I move toward the shower, turning on the water and waiting for it to adjust, before I step under the warm spray.

I let the water wash over my hair, then I reach for the body wash, squirting some in my hand. I run it over my body, up and over my tits, then down over my stomach.

He moves closer, leaning on the counter. “You have a gorgeous body, Sloane.”

I squirt some shampoo in my hand.

“Can I?” he asks, and I realize his shirt is already off.

“You want to wash my hair?” I ask, surprised.

His eyes meet mine. “If that’s okay?”

I turn so it’s easier for him to reach me. “Knock yourself out.”

He takes the shampoo from me and rubs it into my hair, massaging my scalp in a way that feels way too damn good.

I let my eyes close and just enjoy his hands on me. “The first night I was here, did you wash my hair?”

He doesn’t answer me, just takes the handheld showerhead and washes off the shampoo.

I turn back toward him when he’s done, a brow raised in question.

“You had been in the ocean, Sloane, you needed it.”

My eyes narrow. “How was I that out of it that I let you wash my hair?”

His face becomes more serious. “I might have slipped you a sedative. Don’t overreact, you were really distressed, and I wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

“You drugged me?” I glare back at him. I already knew it had to be something like that, but fuck, the way he just admits to it like it’s no big deal.

He turns me so I’m facing the wall again, his hands back in my hair. “Don’t pout, it was a mild sedative, just to help you sleep.” I feel him massage in the conditioner.

“So, you could wash me, dress me, and get me into bed. You have to know how bad that sounds.”

His fingers dig into my scalp, and I almost groan out loud. What is he, some master hair washer? It feels so damn good. “I would do it again if you passed out and needed to be taken care of.”

“You have major boundary issues,” I snip back. I’m not letting him get away with thinking what he did to me that night was okay.

He rinses out my hair and turns me back toward him. “Only when it comes to you, treasure.”

I tilt my head, wondering how he thinks this is okay. “What if the roles were reversed?”

“You want to take care of me?” His brow rises, surprised.

That wasn’t quite what I was getting at, but now that he says it, maybe. “Take off your pants.”

He takes a step back, but he humors me, unzipping them.

Stepping out of them, he looks almost nervous.

And now I feel like the predator because I can’t help the way my eyes travel down his chiseled torso and land on his package.

He has on white boxer briefs, his massive cock straining at the fabric to be freed. “Now what, Sloane?”

“Take it all off, Orlando.”

He removes his underwear, but he doesn’t step any closer.

My mouth nearly falls open, but I keep myself in check and keep my lips shut up tight. He has one gorgeous cock, long and thick. I have the sudden urge to drop down to my knees and suck him into my mouth. “Get under the spray, I won’t bite,” I say instead.

Tentatively he walks toward me. I step back to give him space to get all wet under the spray of the shower. He runs a hand through his hair, making sure it’s all wet.

My fingers itch to reach out and touch him, but I wait.

He cocks his head to the side. “Now what?”

“Now I wash your hair.”

His lips curl up at the sides as if I amuse him, but he moves so I can access his hair.

It’s not as easy for me to wash his hair, as he’s so damn tall compared to me, but I do my best, trying to massage just the way he did, all the while getting distracted by his insanely hot body just inches from me.

His ass is insane, his arms rippled with muscles.

His back is toned as well, under all the scars, and up this close, I can see them in more detail.

They look painful. Like he was whipped or beaten so hard it left permanent scars.

“There you go,” I say when I rinse out the conditioner. Unable to help myself, I reach out and trace along one of the old wounds.

He flinches away from me. Turning quickly, he grabs my wrists, and pinning them above my head, he backs me into the tile wall. “Did I give you permission to touch me?”

I blink back at him. How can he go from sweet and caring, tenderly washing my hair, to this raging beast with just a simple touch of my finger? “Do I need permission?”

His nostrils flare, and I can see he’s trying to calm the raging beast inside. “Yes.”

“But you can drug me and do what you want?”

“Only when it’s for your own good.”

“I just want to get to know you. The real you. Someone hurt you, and I want to know who so I can eliminate them off this planet.”

His eyes flash, dark and dangerous. Just when I think he’s going to walk away from me again, he takes my face in his hands and crushes his lips with mine in a searing kiss that steals my breath. When he eventually pulls back, I’m left panting and confused.

“What the fuck was that?” My heart races out of my chest as I stare back at him, needing him to tell me he felt it as well.

He loosens the grip he has on my wrists, his eyes haunted in a way that makes me feel sick to the stomach because I already know who hurt him. His fucking papa. “I can’t go back there; you won’t like the person I become,” is all he says, then his lips are back on mine, kissing me with his pain.