Page 69 of His Trick

Pain.

I growled and threw the man off my dick, his body flying back toward the bed.

“See?” I said, cruelly intimate, pressing my body right up against Shiloh. My fucking dick hardened instantly. “You can’t control me. You never could. You’re mine, Sunshine. Even when you hate it. You’re fucking mine. Mine to suck, mine to fuck, and mine to?—”

I stopped myself, dizziness swimming in my veins. I was not going to say…love.

Shiloh stared me right in the eyes. The big pools of blue looked like the raging ocean.

“Get out of our fucking room, and be lucky you’re leaving alive,” he ordered, turning toward the man against the door, scrambling to get his clothes.

There was so much in Shiloh’s eyes. So many emotions I was too scared to name. When the door slammed shut, Shiloh finally broke eye contact with me.

“Go fucking shower, Carrington. Now.”

I narrowed my eyes at the challenge in his voice, but when I opened my mouth to argue, he pulled his shirt over his head,turning to walk to the bathroom. I closed my trap and followed him, and the trail of clothes he left in his wake.

Ilet the steam of the shower encase me in a world of warmth, unable to convince myself that this was wrong.

He shifted behind me, following in my footsteps. “What are you up to, Shiloh? You threw my father in my face. You think I’m just going to take that and smile?”

I barked a bitter, painful laugh as he entered the shower with me. “So what, your fucking solution was dragging some random man in front of me? Was that supposed to prove something? Because all I saw was desperation, Carrington. You didn’t even get off. Pathetic really.”

His jaw twitched, lips curling back into a snarl. “Careful, Sunshine. You push, I push back fucking harder.”

I snapped my head toward him, my eyes burning with heat as I locked onto his smoldering gold. “Do it again, and I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me? I won’t kill them like you want. I will kill you.”

He looked at me like he wanted to bite me, but he shut up with a sigh.

He was standing there in the corner of the shower, his shoulders tense, his eyes still carrying that reckless fire.

“You’re a real piece of work,” I said flatly.

He smirked, but it was brittle. “You love it. You love?—”

That was it. That was the fucking match.

I shoved him against the shower wall, hard, cracking the cheap fiberglass down the center with his arrogant head.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” I said, my eyes never leaving his. “For once, shut your fucking mouth.”

His mouth opened regardless, some retort ready to spill free, but I gripped my dick and started stroking as hard as I could. I was bare, cold, and fucking unyielding. His gaze raked over me, hungry as fuck even now, but he could see it. The anger and pain still burned within me.

“You fucking talk too much,” I groaned, jerking my dick in hard with painful pulls.

The sound of the water hitting tile filled the silence, the steam rose, curling around us as I bucked under the spray. My pulse was thrumming in my throat.

Carrington’s wet hair fell across his forehead, his eyes locked on me like a starving animal.

The water was practically drowning him, but still, I kept him locked against the fucking wall, making him watch me as I stroked my length.

My knuckles brushed his stomach, and he hissed. He tried to reach for me, but I shoved him back against the tile harder.

“You don’t get to fucking touch me,” I snapped.

My hand reached up to grip his stubbled jaw, forcing his head so he met my eyes.

“You want to know the difference between that stranger and me? You felt nothing with him. With me—” I pressed my thigh hard between his legs, grinding against his pulsating cock. His breath stuttered. “I fucking own you, too.”