Page 83

ADRIAN

I ’d thought about it. About what I was gonna do the moment I caught up to her. Considered dragging her back home and keeping her there until she realized Briarwood didn’t have to be her prison, not when I had the means to make it her palace instead.

But I knew that was an impulse. The kind that had her fucking the right brother and marrying the wrong husband. The kind that came with temporary satisfaction and long-term contempt. The kind that had her running from me and not to me.

It was why I’d yet to approach her. That and because I couldn’t help but be transfixed by the way the moonlight danced over her face, her eyes actually crinkling at the sides when she tipped her head back and looked up at the night sky…

She was smiling. I knew that smile. It was the one she used to give me whenever I’d climb into her room, pin her to those pretty pink sheets that seemed to sparkle against her tanned skin, and make her see stars that were so much brighter than the ones outside her window.

Than the ones that flickered above me right now as I pressed myself closer to the textured wall and watched her from the adjacent balcony.

It wasn’t hard to break into Marisela’s rental.

To slip inside the guest bedroom and slide out the glass doors so that I could get a better look at her.

But it was nearly impossible to keep my hands from slinking beneath the waistband of my pants, my cock already snaking its way through my fly when she leaned forward and peered down at the sprawling landscape below us.

At all the plants and flowers that couldn’t compare to how flawless she looked with her ass cheeks peeking out of the bottom of her robe, as she bent at the waist and balanced herself on her toes.

I tried to restrain myself. But then her perfume carried with the breeze, infiltrating my nostrils and clinging to my skin until I could both smell her and taste her. Until I could practically feel her pussy gripping my cock in place of my hand. Until I could almost hear her…

I opened my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them.

I could hear her. I was hearing her. Soft whimpers and sighs and moans as Marisela’s fingers worked her clit in rhythm with my palm. Her breasts exposed to the air as the robe slung lower and lower on her shoulders. Her hair a wild mess as it both clung to her skin and twisted around her.

I wanted to believe she was looking down and imagining me peering up at her.

That that was the final thing that set her off when she gripped the banister for dear life, her arm shaking and her knuckles turning white, her knees buckling and her legs nearly giving out when the self-induced orgasm finally hit her.

And then it hit me too. My abdominal muscles contracting, one hand braced against the wall while the other continued to pump from base to tip.

My thumb swiping over the engorged head and collecting the cum that should have been spilling down her throat and not landing on a stranger’s patio furniture.

By the time I was finished, my palm tacky and the front of my boxers damp to the touch, Marisela was staring in my direction.

A mix of fear and lust burning in her eyes as I tucked my cock back into my pants and began climbing over the metal railing.

A few feet of open air the only thing separating my cock from her cunt or my skull from the pavement.

A fact that should have given me pause but didn’t.

Before she could make up her own mind, decide if she wanted to wait and see my brains splatter like an egg or chance me catching her, I’d already leaped from one balcony to the next. Snatched her wrist and held it high above her head as I forced her to look at me.

“How long, Marisela?”

“How long what, Adrian?” she hissed.

“How long have you been able to make yourself come?”

She quirked a manicured eyebrow, her free shoulder lifting just enough to be spiteful. “Depends… ”

“On what?”

“On if you mean with my hands… or my vibrator…”

I tried to keep my expression neutral, sucking on the insides of my cheeks while clenching my jaw. But I knew she saw it. The shock that had my features distorting ever so slightly.

“You can’t know everything, Dr. Lambert. You can’t control everything. Least of all me.”

“Can’t I?” I took a step forward, mirroring her arrogance as I slowly guided her past the glass doors and into the bedroom. My smugness waving freely when I twisted her arm until she had two choices. Lie down or dislocate it.

My little lamb wasn’t afraid of the pain, though, which was why it took her a moment longer than it would most to comply. And only because that was what some part of her really wanted to do anyway.

Marisela wanted to submit to me the way I’d always submitted to her. She just couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it.

I lowered my mouth to her throat, sucking over her carotid artery. Feeling how it pulsed in time with the pounding in her chest and the quickening of her breaths. She was still so worked up. So sensitive. Her body wasn’t satisfied. It needed more. And so did my cock.

“How many times, Marisela?” I whispered into her ear, my right palm pressing her wrists against the mattress while my left cupped her breast. So that she was both focused and distracted. Defiant and obedient .

“How many times did I fuck myself or how many times did I make myself come?” she countered.

“How many times did you let him touch you? How many times did he finish inside you over the years?”

“Don’t you already know?” she scoffed. “Or are you not as good at spying on me as you think you are?”