and licking my lips to lap up the water. “I don’t do angry sex. When I’m pissed at you, I’m pissed at your dick too. You bring that thing anywhere near me, and I’ll be more likely to cut it off than want to ride it.”
He lets out a laugh, and it’s like his stupid dimples cast out a couple of fishing lines that hook the corners of my lips, forcing me into a smile. I reel that shit in real quick.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Why bother? You don’t need to file away info about me. Like I said, you were a good fuck, but we’re not having any kind of a repeat performance.”
Rook eats up the space between us the moment those words are out of my mouth until his hips are pressing into me and he’s standing all the way beneath the water, his clothes soaking through immediately. But does he look like a ridiculous wet dog? No, of course not. He looks like a wet dream, and his hair starts to glow again. My breath comes in short pants that have nothing to do with the humid air.
“I’m sorry,” he says, water spraying off of him and misting over my face. “Trouble came up, and I was called away. Yesterday was my first shift back. I wanted to get someone to help you, but I don’t trust any of the fuckers here. I made sure you got food delivered, though,”
My eyebrows hike up. So he made sure Selena stopped by to give me food?
“Where did you go?” I ask, curious about how much information he’ll divulge.
“I was called away to my lounge. I came back as soon as I could, I swear.”
Maybe it’s stupid, but the vehemence in his voice makes me believe him. I grapple with the sodden strings of my anger, trying to keep hold, trying to stay strong.
“And Black Block?” I ask.
“A real call, I promise. They called in all available guards to handle some shit that went down. If it were up to me, I would’ve stayed all damn night with you and taken you again and again until your throat went hoarse from screaming my name.”
I swallow hard at his words. “That’s ridiculous. My throat doesn’t get hoarse.”
He chuckles, and I can feel the sound travel from his body to mine. “It will during our repeat performance,” he says, throwing my earlier words back at me. “And trust me, Sunrise, that will be happening.”
My tail starts whipping around behind me, and he reaches around and splays his hand at the base of it, calming the erratic wagging. “I fucked up. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
“How?” I ask quietly, feeling the last threads of my resolve snapping apart like the buttons on his shirt.
His hand at my tail slowly traces the curve of my scales before he reaches the bottom and curls the feathery end up in his fist, the same way he grabbed my hair while he fucked me. My breath whooshes out of my chest at how erotic that feels.
“First...I’ll kiss you,” he says huskily, his voice quiet but rough in my ear. “Lick at your lips and own your mouth until I make you wet between your thighs, just to show you how sincere my apology is,” he says before his mouth comes on top of mine.
He starts doing exactly what he promised, but I bite down on his tongue the moment it snakes out to demand entry. Blood prickles out of the small wound, and he rears back, running his injured tongue over the fronts of his teeth.
“Whoops. Guess that’s my response to your first stage of making it up to me,” I say scathingly.
“I’ll just have to try harder then,” he replies, jutting his hips forward on the word harder so that I can feel exactly how hard he’s talking.
I lean my back against the cool tile, trying to keep my body from reacting to his nearness. Play it cool, Sinclair.
“If kisses don’t convince you, I think I should just worship your pussy instead,” he says before dropping down on his knees in front of me. His hands give my hips a squeeze.
Fuck.
My center heats, and my legs quiver enough that I know he can feel it where he’s grabbing me. Seeing him dripping wet and bowing down before me, his blue and green hair casting soft light onto the white tiles, makes me feel powerful and wanted. Exactly the opposite of the way