Page 31 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

“Yes, it is. Two voices, two fucking heartbeats, two bodies colliding again and again… wet and breathy, soft and harsh… Sex is music, and you coming with my name on your lips is a fucking symphony. What color is it?”

I stared, dumbfounded, at his words. He reached out and picked up an ice cube, then leaned away.

“You’re not going to tell me? That’s cruel, Professor. I thought I was your favorite student.” With a wicked smirk, he clasped the ice cube in his fist and hovered it over my nipple.

The first shock of cold water hitting my skin nearly sizzled on contact.

I was so overheated, so overwhelmed. I had no defenses against this guy.

He was like no one I’d ever met before. He was charming when you least expected it, and rough and capable.

He was talented and arrogant, yet disarming at the same time.

He listened and remembered every single thing I’d ever said to him, and I wasn’t used to that.

A man who paid attention when I spoke like every word was interesting… it was an unfamiliar feeling.

He was intense, and headstrong, and most overwhelming of all was how he’d locked me in his sights and seemed to have no intention of looking away.

He dripped icy water over the other nipple, and I cried out, wetness flooding my pussy. I pressed my thighs together, trying to ease the desperate ache to be touched by this man.

He noticed me squirming and smiled. “Don’t worry, Professor. We’ll get there… but we’re going to take our time… so you can tell me where the money is?—”

“You just want the money? Nothing else in the bag?”

He paused, and I could tell I’d thrown him. So, the bag wasn’t his.

“You didn’t look in it,” I ventured. “Isn’t it yours?”

He cocked his head. “If I say no, will you give it back like a good girl?”

“It still gets you riled up, so it still serves a purpose. Stop pursuing me, and you’ll get your back bag.”

He shook his head in amusement and reached for another ice cube. My body screamed in delicious anticipation of his teasing.

This time, he tugged up my bra an inch, covering my nipple with it, then rolled the cube between his fingers and pressed it to the fabric right over the bud, sending a jolt through me. Holy fuck, it was so damn cold and yet so fucking good.

He was watching my nipple contract even harder through my bra, his gaze trailing down the drops of water that had dripped down my stomach to the top of my panties.

He brought the ice cube to my lips, sliding it on them, and then slipped it inside.

His fingers followed, and I couldn’t help it, my tongue rubbed over them, greedy for his touch.

“Stop pursuing you?” he repeated, his attention snaking back down to my wet chest and heaving breasts. “When you’re the first interesting person I’ve met in this town? Never.”

Then he leaned in and latched his hot mouth around my nipple, lace and all, surrounding it with warmth.

The contrast sent me dizzy. I arched into him, thrusting my chest in his face like I wished he would consume me.

His tongue laved me through the bra, and I wanted nothing more than to feel him on my skin.

“The bra—it’s in the way,” I panted out, beyond embarrassment now. Beyond pride and dignity. This was the problem with Marcus Bailey. He made me forget myself… and that was a scary, scary thing.

“I thought I was supposed to stay away from you?” he mocked gently as he tugged the bra down, and then his lips were on my skin, circling my nipple and biting on it, hard enough to make me cry out.

I rocked against the chair, desperate for some kind of friction, but there was nothing there. A huge emptiness swelled up inside me… and I needed to fill it. I needed to fill it with him.

He moved to the other breast, his hands kneading and massaging, my full tits overflowing the bra, propped up for his perusal.

His hand slid down my tummy, over the lumps and bumps that I’d usually feel self-conscious about, but he didn’t pause or even seem to notice. His touch was possessive and hungry. He stroked my pussy through my panties, and I shook.

“Is this what you need, birthday girl? Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you… as soon as you tell me what I need to know.” His words were a rough murmur.

He slipped a finger around the side of my panties and touched me skin to skin. I nearly shot off the chair. I was so hot and wet and desperate.

“Stop denying us both, Ari—stop holding back. Let me in, dammit,” he growled and bit down on my tit a little harder.

The pleasure with the pain-lined edge weakened me. It was so, so good. It was everything.

“Stop denying me, stop lying to me, stop running away and just accept it.”

His fingers stroked down me again, and I tugged at the material tying my wrists, desperate to grab his arm and force his hand to go faster.

A vibration pierced through the haze of teasing and pleasure, unwanted and jarring. Marcus furrowed his brow at the outline of his cell in his jeans pocket.

“No! Don’t answer,” I heard myself plead.

He smiled again, satisfied that I was so fucking addicted to his touch, I couldn’t bear it if he stopped.

“Be a good girl and wait… Why don’t you think about where the bag is, Ari, because you’re not coming until you tell me.”

He pulled his hands away from me and stood, putting his phone to his ear.

He frowned into the distance. Whatever he was hearing wasn’t something he wanted.

He turned away and strode toward the bathroom, shutting the door so he could talk in private.

Once the cloud of pleasure faded slightly, reason snapped back into place.

I had to get out of here, or else there was no way I wouldn’t crack.

I yanked at my wrists and to my surprise, one of them gave. I wrenched my hand free and quickly untied the other bindings.

Fleeing to the bed, I slid my hand under the pillow and closed it around the hard object I’d stored there before.

Marcus hadn’t known what else was in the bag.

He’d had no idea. But I knew. I’d counted every single thing, laying them out and looking at them.

I’d stashed all of it away in the bus station locker, except for this…

this one thing I’d wanted to keep hold of, in case someone from my past came searching for me.

The bathroom room opened, and Marcus stepped out the second I twisted around on the bed and leveled the gun at him.

It wasn’t loaded, but he didn’t need to know that.

Maybe I was more competitive than I’d ever thought I was.

I wanted him to see my next move. I wanted to play on his level.

I wanted to impress him, God help me. I was having fun, and the very idea felt like a crime.

He whistled lowly, his eyes fixed on the gun.

“You are full of surprises, and I don’t hate it. You certainly keep life interesting. So, you’re going to shoot me if I don’t leave you alone?” He raised a rakish eyebrow at me.

I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe I am. So—you should listen to me and stay away.”

He considered my words for a moment and then laughed. “No, I don’t think I’m going to do that… because I don’t think you mean it, and I seriously don’t think you’re going to shoot me.”

He advanced toward the bed, and I gripped the gun tighter. Fuck. He wasn’t falling for the bluff at all.

I scrambled back. He arrived at the foot of the bed and quickly stretched a hand out, snagged my ankle, and yanked me down toward him. I nearly dropped the damn gun as he slid his hands up my bare legs, forcing them wide.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Finishing what we started,” he growled at me. Then he leaned up and reached for my arm. I thought he was going for the gun, but he wasn’t. He only grabbed my wrist and guided the gun toward his head. He pressed the muzzle against his temple.

“I’m going to eat you out until you sing for me, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll forget you didn’t want me… you’ll forget everything but me,” he said, staring me right in the eye.

But I did want him. I had then, and I did now. Telling him that was hardly a good idea right now, so I held my tongue.

“If you want to stop me, shoot,” he said, his eyes dancing with the wicked kind of amusement I usually saw there.

Then he yanked my panties down. I yelped, excitement laced with the rush of doing something forbidden racing through me. He was my student. This was wrong. And yet… and yet…

He pushed my legs wider and licked his fucking lips when he took in my pussy, bare and wet.

“All for me? Professor, you shouldn’t have.” He smirked and swooped in and licked me.

I jerked when his hot tongue sank right inside me, only to be replaced by his thick fingers.

His mouth traveled up to my clit, which he rolled between his tongue and his lips.

I saw stars. The gun was still in my hand, loosely pointed in his direction, but the bluff hadn’t worked, and we both knew it.

He didn’t care if I threatened him. He wasn’t worried about the money. He knew he could get me to break. He wasn’t going to stop.

It was an odd and new feeling. A reassurance I hadn’t known I was seeking. New feelings, strange and precious and terrifying, flooded me. Marcus licked and bit and circled my clit, his fingers pumping into me. I was so wet, I could hear every thrust of his slick digits.

I rose quickly, the gun falling harmlessly to the carpet with a muffled thud. He pulled my knees onto his shoulders, fastened his arm around my thighs, and ate me alive.

I screamed his name when I came, flooding his face and my own legs. I was still coming when he shoved down his jeans and boxers and sank inside me. He was fully fucking dressed, pinning me to the bed, naked and wet and still coming.

When he was inside me, the world stopped spinning.