Page 68 of Precious Hazard

“You’re absolutely unhinged.”

“Hmm, maybe.” He grasps my chin between his fingers and leans forward until his lips hover just an inch from mine. “But only around you, it seems.”

“You’re drunk,” I whisper.

“I certainly hope so.”

His mouth slams against mine with such force that breath gets trapped in my lungs. The kiss is hard and angry. And it immediately sends me into a blissful state. Someplace where all rational thought ceases to exist.

All that remains is the ability to feel.

My arms wrap around Arturo’s neck of their own volition. My tongue duels with his as if this kiss will never be enough. My God! His lips… Trailing along my chin, down the column of my neck, across my collarbone, they are the embodiment of sinfulness itself. I can’t escape them. I don’t want to! All I can do is hold on for dear life.

I spear my fingers through the soft locks of his hair, arching my back to offer more of myself to him. More for that deviant mouth of his to explore as it continues on its downward path, trailing those tantalizing lips toward my breasts.

“You damn witch.”

His low growl is followed by the sound of ripping fabric. Cool air hits my overheated skin as the two parts of my ruined dress hang off me, held in place only by the thin spaghetti straps. The gap he’s torn exposes me right down the middle, almost entirely baring me to the waist.

“No bra,” he rasps, devouring my bare breasts with his eyes. “Wicked, wicked woman.”

Rough palms seize my flesh. His touch is firm but also incredibly gentle as he squeezes the tender globes. It makes no sense. How can he be such a contradiction? How can his touch set me on fire and, at the same time, soothe all the burning aches? But that’s exactly what he does.

He lowers his head and draws my left nipple into his mouth, rolling the peak between his lips as he flicks it with his tongue. A moan explodes from my throat when his teeth graze that sensitive flesh. Goose bumps break out all over my body while a jolt of adrenaline shoots straight through my veins. Everything, everything tingles. Spasm after spasm runs down my spine.

Just as when the sensation starts to ebb, he switches his attention to my right nipple.

My eyes roll into the back of my head. “Oh, God!” I scream in ecstasy.

“It didn’t take long to elevate me in your opinion.”

His palms slide up my thighs, caressing, dragging the skirt of my dress along with.

I should be throwing back a snarky comment, but every capable brain cell I have is focused on his lips again. How can they be this soft? How can they be this sinful? How can I keep them fused to mine like this? Devouring. Claiming. Giving.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a shrill alarm is blaring. Urging me to put a stop to this. To flee from this insane onslaught of dangerous emotions. Feelings I can’t even begin to comprehend. Instead, I tighten my arms around Arturo’s neck, lifting myself off the counter as I try to get closer to him.

Rough hands slide under my ass, pulling my skirt upward an inch at a time. Leaving it bundled around my waist. As those hands retreat, exploring the curve of my hips, my thighs, they drag my lacy thong along with them. Gliding it down my trembling legs while Arturo’s mouth stays busy ravaging me.

“Feisty little cat… thawing under my touch.” Sharp teeth sink into my lower lip. “Not so much of an ice princess now, are you,gattina?”

“Go to hell, Satan.” I seize his lips in a brutal kiss.

“Aw, I’ve been demoted once more.”

His hands trail up my legs again, pushing them apart, inching closer. Closer to my center that’s weeping with need. The tips of his fingers graze my pussy, and I almost shatter.

“Say my name.” A growl. A whisper. A reverent plea.

My core throbs, begging for… something. Something I refuse to acknowledge but can’t suppress. An absolute urgency to have Arturo DeVille possess my body, in every possible carnal way.

With one more nibble to his lips, I lean back. Putting physical distance between us. His devilish eyes bore into mine. Steady. Waiting. Unblinking.

Waiting in vain, because I won’t be saying his name out loud again. Ever.

To use a person’s first name is to give them power. Power over you.

Something I’ve believed since I was a little girl. Something the fairy tales taught me. Something that still scares the shit out of me to this day.