by Lily White
Twisting to look at her, I cocked a brow.
“I-I’m not going in there for you to-“ Her voice trailed off, and I almost laughed at her assumption.
Lacking the patience to deal with this shit, I wrapped an arm beneath her shoulders and her legs to carry her. She started to fight, but was too small in my hold, her body barely able to move when I cradled her close and locked my arms.
“Stop flattering yourself, brat. I’m not taking you back there to do whatever it is you think. But I’ll be damned to have you bleeding all over my fucking floors. You’ll be the one cleaning it up, by the way.”
Her fear switched to anger, and I almost laughed. What the hell was she going to do about it? Kick and scream? There wasn’t a single person in this mansion who would help her.
We approached my bathroom and I kicked the door open, walked in and set her on the counter. She moved to jump down when I walked away, and I didn’t bother turning back for her.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why not?”
Pulling a first aid kit from a cabinet, I spun to face her. Lisbeth had one foot barely touching the floor, her body set to take off if her curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of her.
“Because I’ll chase. And it will only excite me more.”
Hesitation took her over, body still, eyes wide and unblinking. Casting her gaze down to the box in my hands and back to my face, she made her decision. I never claimed Lisbeth was unintelligent. She settled back onto the counter because she knew she was beat. Smart girl.
Stepping up to her, I set the kit on the counter, flipped the lid and rummaged around for antibacterial ointment and a bandage.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m sick of you bleeding in my room.”
Glancing up, I grabbed her cheek, not missing how she flinched away from my touch. Eventually, understanding took hold, and she moved her face so I could have a better look at her chin. It was only a minor cut, nothing that wouldn’t heal within a day or two.
I looked away to wet a washcloth beneath the faucet, her voice floating into my thoughts again.
“Not this. I mean, why are you treating me this way?”
Quiet laughter shook my shoulders. “Do you need to ask that question?”
She danced with bravery, her little pink tongue forming words that were sandpaper against my nerves. “Are you really still so hurt about what happened when we were kids that you can’t let it go?”
My eyes snapped to hers as I wiped the blood from her skin. I would bite that tongue in punishment if I could trust myself to stop before I damaged her too much.
“If so, I apologize.”
My brow cocked again, hatred blending with anger until it was a toxic stew. I snatched her chin between my fingers and squeezed until she winced. Her eyes locked to mine with the same toxicity blazing behind them.
“Don’t apologize for things you’ll never be able to fix.”
Yes, I still hated her for the shit she caused when I was young, but what she owed me could never be repaid. Not unless she had some magical ability to rewind time and give me back my mother.
“I can’t change the past,” she yelled.
Our eyes met, and I dared her to creep into my thoughts again. Except when I thought those full lips would form more words that I would hate, she slammed them closed instead.
Holding her face still, I smoothed on the ointment and slapped a small bandage over the cut.
“Let me go,” she begged, her voice a bare whisper as I packed the supplies back into the box. “You’ve made your point.”
Stepping closer to her, I pinned the bitch in place, my hips spreading her thighs apart, my chest rubbing against the tips of her breasts. Her body shivered, and I grinned because I knew it was my touch that caused it.
“I haven’t even begun to make my point.”
Our stares were locked in a battle of wills, our breath mingled, our hearts beating drums.
“I hate you,” she hissed.
“The feeling is mutual,” I promised, “but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to fuck.”
Lisbeth gasped, her eyes dropping to my lips to trace their shape. She could lie all she wanted, but I knew that look, knew that the electricity arcing between us was as much from her body’s reaction as it was from mine.
My hand moved faster than she could react, fingers wrapping in the soft strands of her hair, my bicep flexing as I pulled her body toward me until our mouths brushed.
I spoke against her, the alcohol flooding me to remove the last fucks I had to give. This moment had been a long time coming.
My voice was a quiet warning wrapped in a question. “Can you honestly say I don’t affect you?” My thumb pressed the pulse point in her neck, my fingers still trapping her hair. “That your heart doesn’t beat faster when I’m near?”
Eyes narrowing on mine, Lisbeth answered, “That’s only because I know you’ll hurt me.”
I grinned, my lips parting so that my teeth scraped her bottom lip.
“Is it now? Then why do your legs spread wider when I come near? Why does your skin flush when I’m watching? Why is your breath coming out on small spurts you want me to steal?”
I licked my lips, tasting her mouth in the process. I didn’t miss the way she trembled.
“Have you ever fucked a man who couldn’t stand you? Have you ever been challenged by someone you hate?”
My free hand gripped down on her thigh, fingers chasing the hem of her skirt higher. Lisbeth’s breath was a fan of heat on my face, her body becoming soft and supple, preparing itself for every hard part of mine that wanted to dominate her.
The room around us ceased to exist, the moment stretching out until there was only now, only this, only two people locked in a battle that could only allow one to win.
And I had never lost a battle yet.
My hand skated higher on her thigh, her skirt tight across her hips. She was practically vibrating with need, with heat, with desperation so damn thick that her breath caught in her lungs as her eyes held mine.
“Tell me no,” I crooned, my voice dangerously deep. “Tell me you haven’t thought of this, that you’re not wet and desperate to fuck the man you hate so much.”
Her mouth parted, and I took the opportunity to bite down on her bottom lip, to feel the deep shiver it caused. Flicking my tongue out to taste the sting, I tempted her while holding myself back.
Barely.
My body was hard, my cock full and throbbing. Every instinct I’d had, every battle I’d fought to keep my distance was lost as her breasts pushed tighter against my chest and her eyes dropped to my mouth.
Higher again, my fingers almost brushing her panties, the heat between her legs driving my pulse to a beat that matched hers.
“If we start this, I won’t stop. Tell me to stop.”
She shook her head, her mouth hovering near mine, a silent plea that I stop talking and just do what I wanted.
“Tell me to fucking stop, Lisbeth.”
The tips of my fingers ran the scalloped edge of her panties, edging closer to the center. If I didn’t pull back now, there was nothing that could prevent me from taking all of her.
Her eyes closed before slowly opening again, two blue flames trapping my gaze, her lips parting on words that would destroy us both.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” I whispered against her mouth.
Her pulse thudded harder beneath my thumb, her legs spreading wider as if daring my fingers to shove her panties aside and explore the wet heat inside her.
“Because I don’t want you to stop.”
A growl shook deep inside my chest, frustration giving way to the loss of control.
“I won’t be gentle,” I warned, my finger pressing down to find her panties were soaked.
She shook again, her mouth seeking the violence of my kiss.
We were balanced on a precipice with the threat of falling ov
er, our eyes locked, our lips brushing, our bodies ready to give and take despite the hate we felt.
When she didn’t answer, the last cord of self-control I had snapped.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I flicked her panties aside at the same moment my mouth took control of hers, and while my tongue swept in to taste her for the first time, my finger dove deep inside her body.
Victory was the flavor of her first sensual moan.
Lisbeth
This was a dangerous game, but I played it anyway. My heart a trapped bird fluttering to break free, my body a traitor that wanted him, my thoughts screaming that I should push him away.
I couldn’t.
When he asked me to stop him, I’d parted my lips to do just that, but the words were wrong. The truth tumbled out instead of the refusal any intelligent woman would give, my curiosity already choking me beneath his close proximity, my thoughts trapped by memory, my lungs grasping at the air they needed to breathe.
Yet, all I understood was him.
In that moment, Callan and I were the same, two people trapped by a bitter past, two members of a family that drove us together before tearing us apart. And within it all were secrets that I couldn’t tell him, fears that I wouldn’t admit, questions that I wondered if ever could be answered.
None of that mattered.
Not then.
Not when his mouth brushed mine in a tease of his taste and tongue.
Not when his amber eyes blazed golden with the hatred we both felt.
Not when they crackled with the spark that had always drawn us together.
We punished each other just the same.
We watched each other without understanding why.
And even when I forced him to his knees and he forced me to mine, we somehow knew each other better than any person had known us in our lives.
We were both abandoned and abused, but in ways that made us enemies instead of lovers.
And now, in this moment, in this tiny amount of space within a universe that was far too large, we both gave in to a desire that was awful and wrong.
Awful because of the way we treated each other. Wrong because it didn’t matter. The body wants what it wants.
We fought each other while we touched. We released our burdens. We forgot the torment of the past and welcomed the torment of the present.
Manipulate him, Gretchen had said.
Obey him, his friend had demanded.
And while I told myself I was playing this game to earn his trust, that lie flew out the window when his mouth found mine and his taste flooded every part of me. That lie caught flame and burned to ash when his finger drove inside my body, and I felt for the first time the truth of his strength, the force of his desire, the temptation that had always existed between us because it was all too simple really.
When you can’t love, you hate. When you can’t have, you want. And when the truth is too painful to admit, you lie - just like we always had done.
We were the fine line between the two. We were darkness and light. Give and take. Opponents who only knew how to hurt each other because we were too afraid to stop for just one moment to admit that our lives were intertwined, but not in the way we wanted.
I hurt him when he wouldn’t fight back.
He hurt me to find revenge.
But this moment was the first time we felt right, like this is what we should have been all along.
I found forgiveness in the heat of his kiss, absolution in the brusqueness of his touch. I understood my hunger when I tasted his for the first time.
And it was violent.
So deliciously violent, his hands taking possession of me with such sensual cruelty that the air rushed from my lungs as his mouth released mine and his teeth ran down my neck to bite.
His hips drove my legs wider, his one finger becoming three, each thrust of his hand causing his forearm to flex, his thumb catching me in the one sacred place that he rubbed without concern for the things it would do to me.
My head fell back as his mouth explored my neck, a growl erupting from his chest when his path was blocked by the collar of my dress.
Two gritty words burst from his throat, and it was everything I was thinking when he had to stop. “Fucking hell...”
Callan pulled his hand from between my legs to run it up my back, the zipper in my dress torn apart with one hard tug, the fabric dragging down my body until he yanked it from my arms to pool around my waist. The dress never stood a chance, much like my bra that he ripped away without worry if I had another.
I should have cared, but I didn’t, not when his mouth closed over the tip of my breast and he sucked it in to bite.
A cry of pain burst from my lips, but it only made him chuckle, that dark sound left in place when his hands gripped my hips and he lifted me from the counter.
Back slamming against a wall, I was pinned by his body as he tore away the rest of my clothes, the fabric of his jeans rubbing between my legs with such frustrating friction that I let go of his shoulders to rip at his shirt.
Callan caught both my wrists with one hand and lifted my arms to pin them above my head, his amber gaze trapping mine as a smirk twisted his lips.
“I don’t think so, brat. You don’t call the shots around here.” His teeth caught my bottom lip, pulling it out as he dragged the edges along the skin. My eyes rolled back as his hips ground between my thighs, his teeth releasing my lip. “I do.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I complained, “even in this.”
His free hand crept between my legs, fingers toying with the slickness, my mouth falling open as he held my gaze and brought my taste to his lips. Licking his fingers clean, he gave me the smuggest grin.
“You can say that all you want. But your body disagrees.”
He wasn’t wrong, my body was a traitor, a frustrated growl rolling over my lips that he caught with his mouth, his tongue sweeping in to steal the sound and make it his own.
Callan pulled away, his fingers catching my chin to drag my face down to him. Whispering against my mouth, his eyes held mine.
“Do you think this changes anything? That I’ll love you in the morning?”
No, I didn’t think that, but I hoped. Not love. Never that. But something.
Tsking, he kissed the corner of my mouth, my head turning until his lips were against my ear, his hot breath cascading across my skin.
“Maybe, I’ll be a little nicer. But not much.”
Barely able to breathe, I fought to answer. “How chivalrous of you.”
His chest rumbled against mine with deep laughter.
“Ahhh, brat. You’re going to drive me insane.”
My head fell against the wall, his mouth kissing a hot path down my neck before his teeth caught my collarbone.
“Is that my new nickname?”
Licking away the sting, he answered, “It’s always been what I called you. Just never to your face. Wouldn’t want you to go crying to daddy.”
Any response I may have had was lost when his hand moved between my legs while the other kept me bound. I was completely naked, exposed, open to him in every way imaginable, and he hadn’t given one inch to meet me in that place.
His body was still hidden, his skin unexplored by my hands. Everything about him denied to me except what he wanted to take and what he wanted give.
Not that what he was giving was anything to scoff at. Not the way his mouth seduced mine, the way his tongue licked and explored, the way his hips pressed forward to let me feel just how hard he was.
I melted against the wall, my eyes opening to watch us in the mirror, my heart skipping to see the way his ass moved when he rolled against me, to see the flex of his arms, to watch every muscle in his body ripple with how I was affecting him.
Doubt crept into my thoughts when I realized what I was doing. But my body still warmed to him, my muscles soft and pliable while his were hard and unforgiving. I knew this was a mistake I wou
ld regret in the morning, but there was no stopping what we’d started.
“This isn’t working,” he said, more to himself than me, but when I opened my mouth to complain, he freed my arms to slap both hands on my ass, his voice a low grumble as he ordered, “hold on to me.”
Hands falling to his shoulders, I dug my nails into his shirt, a squeak climbing up my throat as he tugged me from the wall to walk me into his bedroom.
My body fell to the mattress, his eyes sweeping a slow trail down my naked flesh, fire behind the amber color, glowing gold with lustful desire.
“I think I lied,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips just before he reached behind his head to tug off his shirt and drop it the floor.
If ever there were a moment where I thought I might die, it was then. Barely able to think past the picture of brutal masculinity now bared to my eyes, I shook my head to clear away the want just so I could speak.
“About?”
My eyes dragged down the perfect V leading to his pants, my teeth catching my bottom lip as his hand moved to unbutton his jeans.
Yes, yes, yes...please. Just take them off.
His voice dragged my gaze back to his face, heat flooding my skin when he smiled knowingly. I couldn’t hide what the sight of him did to me.
“I told you I wasn’t bringing you in here to fuck. Yet, here we are.”
My eyes narrowed on his face, but then dropped as his hand moved to shove his pants down his legs. He stood naked in front of me. Every part of him more beautiful than the next.
Dear God, I think I just died again...
Clearing my throat, I glanced up. It took effort. More than I wanted to admit. “It wouldn’t be the first time you lied to me.”
Callan grinned and there was so much arrogance in that expression, I was drowning in it.
“And it won’t be the last.”
He kicked off his pants before crawling over me, his chest and biceps flexed as he held his weight off my body. Eyes dropping to my mouth, he took his time tracing their shape before returning that amber stare to me.
“Not that you’ve always been honest. I seem to remember lying being a daily occurrence.”