Blood Ties (Dinero de Sangre #2) - Lana Sky Page 0,41

cock stuffed in it, right?” I can’t resist the taunt, and for whatever reason, it seems to rile him beautifully.

His nostrils flare, and both of his hands return to my hips, gripping tightly to readjust my weight against him.

“Right,” he murmurs, his eyes staring dead into my own. “Maybe we should test that theory; what with you being so damn agreeable all of a sudden?”

I swallow hard at the threat, fighting to keep my breathing steady. I can feel his muscle flexing beneath me, his thighs drifting further apart as if to accommodate a growing body part he can’t ignore. He’s gritting his teeth, a muscle in his jaw lurching.

As foolish as it is to admit, even to myself, I’m not sure what could be getting him hard in this scenario. Our banter? Or the mention of Alexi?

“I would gladly let you utilize my mouth however you see fit,” I say, wrenching my gaze down to his mouth, a safer territory than his eyes. Or so I think until he seizes the flesh of his lower lip between his teeth and a growl rumbles through his chest. “If only you didn’t have another willing mouth at the ready close by. I’m sure you already got up to plenty of fun and games while I was out. Why let me ruin your fun?”

I’m done with this game. I brace my hand against his chest to pull back and stand. He tightens his grip, easily keeping me locked in place.

“I haven’t had fun since the last time your pretty little lips were occupied with me,” he warns, and I suck in a breath, suddenly dizzy. The heat in his voice is far too dangerous. As if he means every word. “You would know if you were interrupting anything I didn’t intend for you to see.”

I flinch. It’s a blatant hint that he’s been toying with me all this time, with or without Alexi’s consent. I don’t know what to make of that. Then it strikes me that’s exactly what he wants—to confuse me of his motives and leave me constantly second-guessing my own instincts.

I only let myself consider my following actions for a split second. Then I lean forward, deliberately rocking my hips into his. As much as I hate him…

He’s all rigid muscle, and I gasp when I feel the firmness of his thighs against my ass. He stiffens, digging his fingers into my waist, only his hands slip, and he’s palming my ass instead. I smother any urge to pull away, letting his hands linger, fingers spread apart over both cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been faking your fun all this time, Domino,” I taunt.

He laughs. Then he drives his nails into my flesh—harshly—and I can’t smother a cry.

“As it turns out, I am very good at faking, Ada,” he tells me, nudging my earlobe with his mouth. Then something warmer brushes the lobe with a teasing swipe. His tongue?

I can’t let myself get distracted. I just focus on his words and realize what they imply. He’s still playing with my head, trying to keep me off balance.

“So am I,” I say, palming his cheek so that he’s forced to face me again. He’s frowning, and a prickle of alarm nips at my spine, warning me to tread carefully. Even if he seems to want information from me—badly enough to agree to a hostile cease-fire—I know better than to push him too far.

So I consider my next course of action the equivalent of a friendly tap.

“I am very good at faking, remember?”

“I remember.” His eyes glint with a dangerous gleam. “I’ve personally watched you ‘fake it’ many, many, many times.”

I cringe at the insinuation—that his claims to have spied on me were all true. And yet, there is one way to use this to my advantage.

“So then you know that even if you do sell me, I’ll have no problem faking it then. I’ll fake it for whoever can give me a lifeline, no matter how flimsy, and you can lounge around this big, empty house knowing that I’ll be comparing them all to you.”

It’s a boast that riles him like no other. He jolts forward, nearly knocking me backward, if his hands didn’t happen to clench against my ass, snatching me to him. Our pelvises collide, my breasts pressed against his collar as though it’s a platter.

And I’m the only meal he has any interest in devouring.

Chapter Twelve

I’ve angered him. His eyes latch onto my mouth, and when he yanks