Shadowed (Team Zero #4) - Rina Kent Page 0,75

second. “S-someone might see us –”

He bites my peaking nipple through the dress and I shriek.

“Should’ve thought of that before provoking me.” He grabs a handful of my arse and lifts me up. With my back against the tree, I have no choice but to hold onto his shoulders while my legs wrap around his waist.

I expect him to slam inside me and take me quick and dirty, but he doesn’t. His hard cock slides from my soaking folds all the way to my entrance, leaving a trail of need.

My legs clench tightly around his waist begging for him to just do it.

The torturous rhythm of his up and down drives me insane. When I think he’ll go in, he resumes the maddening up and down. With a bit more friction, I might come from this alone.

“Shadow… please...”

“Are you going to talk about another man in front of me again?”

“N-no,” I murmur.

His lips find my earlobe, sucks it into his mouth, and bites down hard. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Nooo!”

He kisses his way from my jaw to my other ear. “Who do you belong to, beautiful?”

“You. I belong to you.”

As if my words hold magic, Shadow finally slams inside me, filling and stretching me whole. I gasp both at the sensation and the untamed ferocity in his overcast eyes.

The possessiveness and slight anger make him hot and irresistible.

“You. Are. Mine.” He enunciates every word with a shattering thrust. “The next time you think otherwise, remember how your body belongs to me.”

I can’t breathe let alone form any thoughts. My body is thoroughly owned by each frenzied pounding of his hips. He hits my sweet spot over and over until I’m delirious.

It’s a madness.

An unravelling.

At this moment, I’m sure he’s not only owning my body, but he’s also owning everything. I have no way to stop him.

I thread my fingers in his hair and pull then I bite his neck until I taste blood. “I left my mark, too. You’re also mine.”

“Sure as fuck I am.”

Those words drive me over the edge. I sink my nails into his skin as the waves carry me until I think I’m not coming back. Shadow comes with a grunt, telling me how beautiful I am and how much I drive him crazy.

After a few moments of caging me against the tree, he lets me slide down on wobbly feet. I’m thankful he pulls me into him and holds me against his chest until his heartbeat matches mine.

This damn man wrecks me every time he touches me.

I already feel the soreness between my legs and the warmth trickling down my thighs. He went so rough this time, it’s both alarming and delicious.

God. Maybe I do need therapy like Nick said.

My gaze falls on the tulips basket and I recall the Georges. “Shit. Let me take a quick shower.”

“No.”

“I have to deliver the flowers.”

“You will.” He grins. “With my scent all over you.”

“Caveman much?” I suppress my mirrored smile.

“For you?” He presses a kiss on the top of my hair. “Always, beautiful.”

When Shadow said he’s a fast learner, he really meant it. He neatly placed the flowers at the back of his jaguar and we delivered them safe and sound to the Georges.

Lisbeth is all over him by the time we’re in the shop. Shadow has an irresistible exterior charm that sucks people in. I’m still sure he can sell his smile. If things were different, he could probably be an actor or a model.

On a second thought, I’m glad he isn’t. The idea of sharing him causes my inner claws to spring free.

A sly grin animates his face as he leans in to whisper, “I’ll have Mark as a rival any day.”

I elbow him and take a sip of my usual coffee.

“Let me help with that.” Shadow runs to Mark who’s transporting vases to the other side of the shop.

I lean back against the counter and watch — or more like drool — over Shadow’s agile figure. He’s only wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans, but it’s enough to provoke my hormones.

It doesn’t even matter that he fucked my brains out not an hour ago. It’s insane how much I can never get enough of him and his wild intensity.

Lisbeth stands beside me, wiping her hands on her apron and speaks low so only I can hear her. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“It’s…” I sigh, tracing the rim of my mug. “Complicated.”

“It’s only complicated when you complicate it, honey.” She goes on saying that we southerners

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