Revenge 2

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Revenge 2 Page 9

by JJ Knight


  A warm, drunk feeling floods through my body. I’m buzzing—electrified and numb at the same time. My mouth opens wider, letting him kiss me deeper and deeper. I feel small and light in his arms. His chest is hard like stone against my softness.

  He stops kissing me and pulls back to look at me.

  “What?” I say.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  I smile and lower my eyelids, looking down at our bodies. There’s no space between us. We might even be breathing in rhythm.

  His voice is thick, his words slurred with lust. “I’d like to take you upstairs.”

  “Okay.” My own voice is thin and metallic to my ears.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I do want you to remember tonight. If I take you upstairs, I’m going to burn myself into you like a brand. No matter what happens, part of you will always belong to me, Jess.”

  I nod. “I want that, too.”

  “Are you sure? If you take me, you take all of me. Think about it. Because you can turn around right now and walk out that door. I’ll never touch you again. I won’t even talk to you. But you have to leave now.”

  I whisper, “I don’t want to leave.”

  I look up and find his dark eyes still burning into mine. His nostrils flare with his breathing. I kiss him briefly on the lips, my eyes still open. I look down at his nostrils, still flaring. Something bubbles up from my memories. Bulls, on the farm. During breeding. You can see how agitated they are by the shape of their nostrils. Once they set their sights, you can’t get in their way.

  My chest flutters and my throat tightens. Why am I thinking about animals? If Dylan could read my mind, he’d be insulted. I’m comparing him to a bull, a creature of instinctual lust and no reasoning.

  He blinks and pulls his gaze down. As he looks at my throat, he licks his lips. He leans down and brings his lips to the side of my neck.

  I gasp as he nibbles the soft skin of my neck. He runs the tip of his tongue up to my earlobe and kisses me there. His breathing is hot and loud in my ear, sending a tickle all through my body. He keeps licking, kissing, and sucking on my neck.

  My eyes roll up with ecstasy. I could die. I could just die, this feels so good.

  He crosses under my chin and to the other side. My body is getting weaker by the second. I swear the only thing holding me up is my arms around his shoulders. If I let go, I’d crumble.

  He shifts his weight to the side and brings his other foot to the middle, between my legs. Now I’m awkwardly straddling his legs, but I don’t care.

  He lets out a growl, and his hands slide down my lower back, to my buttocks. He keeps kissing my neck, and at the same time pulls at the thick denim fabric of the skirt, pulling it up to my waist. His hands glide down my buttocks, over the cotton fabric of my panties. The kisses on my neck slow down, until he’s holding still there, breathing.

  Suddenly, he scoops his hands down, to the base of my buttocks, and picks me up.

  “Hang on,” he grunts.

  I tighten the grip of my arms circling his neck. He hoists me up like he’s getting a better grip. I sail up in the air like I weigh nothing, and I’m his plaything.

  I squeal, and he chuckles at me.

  “Hang on with your legs,” he says.

  My legs are dangling, unsure of themselves. At his command, my legs swing up and lock together around his back. Now what? Is he going to carry me over to the counter? Or up the stairs?

  He takes a couple steps forward, not in the direction I expected.

  My back connects with the brick wall. I gasp and tense, but I don’t let go. My back is against the wall.

  In the back of my mind, I’m worrying about the cameras on this floor, and who might be watching. But those thoughts quickly slip away.

  “Last chance to get away,” he says.

  My back is pressed hard against the rough brick wall, and I’m pinned by Dylan’s hard body at the front. All the fear I had getting here tonight is completely gone. I’m not scared at all. I feel like a flower, like a rose, ready to open up.

  I stare into his beautiful brown eyes. My heart aches to know him, to know what he’s thinking. Who is he? Does he need me as bad as I need him?

  “You can go,” he says. “I’ll still play nice with your boss. I know they want you to get close to me. You’re playing me. I know, but I want you anyway. ”

  “I’m not playing you.”

  His mouth curls up in a grin. He thrusts against me, crushing my back against the wall. His hardness is between my legs, pressing hard through his jeans against me.

  “Of course you are,” he says. “You’re a woman.”

  “I’m just a girl.”

  “Then I’ll make you a woman. And then maybe you’ll realize how much power you have.”

  His nostrils are flaring again. His eyelids grow heavy, and he grinds against me, driving me up the wall.

  I tighten my legs around his waist and use my arms to pull myself up higher.

  “Take me upstairs,” I say. My voice sounds way more brave than I’m feeling.

  I repeat myself. “Dylan. Take me upstairs. Now.”

  Chapter 16

  I don’t have to ask him a third time.

  Dylan carries me to the spiral staircase, and takes me up. We circle the spiral and emerge on the upper loft.

  Holding me in his strong arms, he pauses to click a switch.

  Hidden lights cast a soft glow on the wall. The bed, covered in dark linens, looks private and dim, set away from the walls.

  Dylan’s mouth finds mine, and I forget all about where we are.

  There’s only his body, pressing urgently against mine.

  He carries me over to the bed, where he lays me down gently on my back, sideways near the bottom of the bed. My knees are bent, and the tips of my shoes touch the carpeted floor. The denim skirt I chose for this moment is crumpled up at my waist.

  Dylan locks his eyes on mine, like he’s commanding me to stay still. With a serious expression, he pulls his CBGB T-shirt off over his head and drops it without looking away from me. With his back to the wall, his eyes are in shadow. I feel like I’m falling, like there’s nothing around me but empty outer space.

  His nostrils flare again, and his chest and defined abdominal muscles flex as he takes two deep breaths.

  I hold still, resisting the urge to push down my skirt and cover myself.

  He drops down to his knees quickly and buries his face between my legs.

  I curl up in reflex, feeling the urge to push him away. His mouth is over my panties, his breath hot. The heat soothes me. My hands stop reaching to push him away, and fall down to rest on the covers at my sides.

  He moves his chin, or his lips, or both, and nudges against my sensitive mound. The divine pleasure is instant and so intense.

  I moan and rock my head back against the mattress, heat building within me. I need him so desperately.

  His hands scoop under my buttocks again, and he lifts me up, bringing me to his mouth like he might consume me.

  His fingers grasp the waistband of my panties, and he pulls them down. He’s still on his knees, between my legs. I want to feel his bare chest against mine, and his lips on my breasts.

  He removes my shoes and pulls my cotton panties off over my bare feet. My stomach tenses, and I glance down at my body for a second. I’m shocked to see my own bare flesh, so close to Dylan’s beautiful face. This doesn’t seem real.

  He glances at the spot between my legs and licks his lips.

  My eyes widen, and my heart pounds like a drum.

  Using my hands, I push myself up and move back on the bed, getting away from him. I cross my legs so he’s not looking directly at everything.

  He gets to his feet, a knowing look on his face. His smile starts off small, then grows wide, into a big grin, with visible teeth. He looks like his last name. He looks like a wolf.

  He unfastens the button of his jeans and pushes them down. His underwear are black, and i
n the low light, I can’t see the form of what’s beneath the fabric. My mind races. What if he’s too big to fit inside me? I’ve never done it, so I don't know how big is too big. What if I’m too nervous, and it won’t work?

  “You won’t get away now,” he says, climbing onto the bed.

  I push myself away until my back comes into contact with the wrought iron headboard.

  He grabs my legs at the knees and yanks me toward him in one movement.

  And he’s on top of me.

  His mouth on mine.

  His weight on me.

  My hands fly out, then land on his back, palm down. We keep kissing, and my hands run up and down his smooth, hot back.

  He pulls away and looks down at my shirt. He begins undoing the buttons, starting at the bottom. With half the buttons undone, he shifts his body down, his legs and torso between my legs.

  He kisses my stomach. Slowly and deliberately, he circles my navel with the tip of his tongue.

  I moan and close my eyes.

  Lips and tongue travel up the center of my stomach. I feel my shirt being opened all the way to my collarbone, and then being spread wide open. There’s a pinch, and my bra is unfastened at the front and also falls away.

  My eyes stay clenched shut.

  There’s music playing. I haven’t noticed until now, but it’s very soft. He must have started the music when he turned on the lights.

  My nipples harden. Something soft and wet closes around my nipple.

  My eyes fly open.

  He’s grinning again, even while he kisses my breast. His dark brown eyes glittering with fire, and he kisses his way over to the other breast and takes my other nipple between his teeth.

  A shock of electricity rides through my body. My breath catches in my throat, and my fingers dig into his back.

  He groans and brings his hand between my legs. He’s gentle, pressing in and gliding his fingers along me. My breathing gets shallow as he swirls his fingers.

  My legs relax and part wider. He keeps rubbing with his fingertips, making sure I’m ready.

  We kiss. He’s taking his time, being patient. It definitely helps that he still has his shorts on. He nudges against me, and even through the fabric, I can feel how turned on he is.

  His fingers feel good between my legs. I lose myself in his kisses, my tongue against his. We are becoming intertwined.

  He pulls away and nuzzles my ear. “Are you ready?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  He rolls off me, onto his side, and then sits up. He reaches over to the dresser next to the bed and pulls open the top drawer. I see the flash of a square packet. He moves, pulling his black underwear down. I hear a crinkle as he opens the packet. He hums to himself for a moment.

  He’s so adorable, humming like that. I can hardly stand how cute he is.

  He rolls back and positions himself between my legs. I brace myself. He gazes into my eyes. His expression is gentle, his eyes caring.

  His fingertips glide from side to side across my collarbone, and then down the center of my body. His finger slips between my legs again, parting me. I’m wet. I feel something at my opening. Bigger than fingers.

  My eyes are still closed. I’m barely breathing. I’m floating in outer space, with nothing to hold onto.

  “I won’t tell you to relax,” he says.

  My eyelids fly open. He looks worried, with his forehead wrinkled up.

  “What?” I gasp.

  He repeats himself. “I won’t tell you to relax, because you won’t. So, I’m giving you permission to do whatever you need to do. You can scream, or you can cry, or you can bite me if you want. But whatever you dish out, just know that I’ll give it back to you double.”

  My skin gets so hot, I swear I can feel sweat pooling on the small of my back.

  I don’t know what to say, so I just nod. At least his eyes are here, grounding me. And his voice will keep me from feeling lost.

  He closes his eyes, and his face relaxes. He looks so calm.

  I’ve never seen a more beautiful human being.

  I think I love him.

  His eyelids flash open. He pushes into me. It’s not what I expected. Even going slowly, he’s pressing like a dagger into my flesh.

  The pain is sharp and intimate. I try to roll away, but I’m pinned. Trapped under his body.

  “Jess?” he asks.

  Through clenched teeth, I say, “Keep going.”

  He thrusts in again, deeper. He’s inside me.

  There’s pain.

  And then, something clicks in my mind and the pain disappears. It’s just gone, and I feel nothing.

  He keeps moving, his breathing heavy now, ragged.

  My hands are clenched in fists at my sides.

  He pivots on my hips, grinding against me. My skin gets pinpricks all over, and the numbness turns to pleasure.

  My fists relax and my hands move up to his back.

  I rock my hips in rhythm with his. He groans encouragement. He doesn’t need to, because this feels good.

  What felt like a dagger inside me is now something else. It’s hard, and fills me, but the shape is right.

  Waves of pleasure radiate from our connection. I’m making sounds now, and every whimper drives him deeper and harder.

  My fingertips dig into his back. My abdomen is tense. I hold on tight, lifting my hips to meet his. With my knees bent and the soles of my feet on the bed, I grind against him, desperate for more of that full feeling.

  Something releases, and I’m filled with shockwaves of pleasure. My body is in control of my mind. The cries coming from my throat get loud, wailing, almost screaming.

  He moves between my legs, and he’s inside me even deeper than before.

  He groans, and his body stiffens.

  There’s a moment of stillness, where I’m quiet. The waves are receding like the tide. His breath is caught in his chest.

  He gasps and plunges quickly within me, the force punishing.

  When he stops moving, his body becomes twice as heavy as before. He nestles his face between my cheek and shoulder.

  It’s done.

  I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed until I blink a few more times.

  The ceiling comes into focus above me.

  I swallow, trying to think of something to say. The ideas that come into my head are so awkward, I almost giggle. Do I thank him now? Or should he thank me? Do we roll away and smoke cigarettes like people in movies?

  Now that we’re still, I can feel the pain again. It’s not sharp, but there’s an ache inside me.

  He pulls away, avoiding my eyes. He turns away and sits on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m going to hit the shower,” he says.

  I stare at his broad, bare back. There are indentations from where my nails must have dug in, and some short scratches. Below the new red lines, near the bottom of his rib cage, is a horizontal scar. It looks like it was a deep gash, a few years old.

  “Shower sounds good,” I say.

  He doesn’t turn to look at me.

  “Jess, there’s something you should know.”

  His voice has a hollowness that chills me to the bone. I sit up with a jolt and pull the covers up against my chest.

  “What?” My heart is pounding.

  “It’s about Susan,” he says. “My wife.”

  REVENGE by JJ KNIGHT

  You've just finished reading Volume #2. Revenge is a 5-book series about Jess and Dylan.

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  Love, JJ

 

 

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