Cruel Paradise (Beautifully Cruel #2) - J.T. Geissinger Page 0,79

my nose and his big hard body is all over me, pinning me down, reminding me exactly how good it feels to have him inside me.

“What have I done now to incur your wrath? Aside from honoring your request to leave you alone, that is.”

“Oh, look, he’s talking like a dictionary again.”

He puts his mouth next to my ear. “Would you prefer I tell you how much I want to shove my cock deep into that sweet cunt of yours and fuck you until you forget how much you hate me?”

I growl at him through gritted teeth, but it only makes him chuckle.

“I didn’t think so. You probably don’t want me to tell you how this past week has been a living hell for me, either.” He chuckles again, inhaling against my neck. “Or maybe you do. Maybe you’d love to know how I haven’t been able to eat. Or sleep. Or do anything but think about you.”

His voice drops to a whisper. “Tell me you missed me, too. It almost killed me not seeing you.”

“What doesn’t kill you, disappoints me.”

“Tell me you thought about me.”

“I did. It reminded me to take out the garbage.”

He laughs. It’s a deep, satisfied, masculine laugh that really makes me want to gouge his eyes out.

“Okay, thief. Now tell me the truth: what did you mean on the phone when you said you figured it out?”

I turn my head, refusing to look at him.

When he presses a gentle kiss to the sensitive spot underneath my earlobe, I close my eyes. “That’s not going to work.”

He murmurs, “I’ll have to do better, then.”

He brushes his lips slowly up and down the length of my neck, trailing the tip of his tongue over my skin as lightly as possible.

I force myself to suppress a shudder.

“No? Hmm. How about this?”

He gently sucks on my throat. It sends a starburst of pleasure zinging through me, but I lie still and silent, hating that he can make me feel so much when all I want him to do is drop dead.

Against my pelvis, his erection throbs. He presses his hips into mine, gently sucking my earlobe. I have to bite my lip to keep silent.

When he moves down from my throat to my chest and nuzzles his nose against my nipple, I can’t help the gasp that slips from my lips.

He whispers, “Your nipples are hard, thief.”

“It’s cold in here. Get off me.”

“Tell me the truth, and I will.”

He gently kisses my nipple, then sucks on it through the cotton, drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth. I don’t tell him to stop, because it feels too good, but also because emotion is fighting its way up my throat, silencing me.

He’s using me. I know it, but I’m a fool because it all feels so real.

When I drag in a hitching breath, he raises his head. His hands are big enough that they can trap both my wrists. He keeps me pinned down with one hand but takes my jaw in the other and turns my face toward his.

“Open your eyes.”

“No.”

Very gently, he kisses me. “Baby. Open your eyes for me.”

My voice comes out hoarse. “If you call me baby again, I will make it my mission in life to destroy you.”

He’s still for a moment. I can tell he’s searching my face, but I refuse to look at him. Then, in one swift, surprising movement, he rolls onto his back and takes me with him.

He clasps his arms around my body and holds me against him, cupping a hand around the back of my head. We’re chest to chest, belly to belly, thighs on top of thighs, our bodies in alignment. I know he won’t let me go, so I simply hide my face in his neck and lie on top of him, struggling to regulate my breathing.

He exhales a heavy breath. “Whatever it is you think you figured out, you’re wrong.”

“Of course you’d say that.”

“Try me. What’s this theory of yours?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

He squeezes me, pressing a kiss to my hair, then exhales again. “All right.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I lie in silence, wondering what new tactic this is and hating myself for liking what a comfortable mattress he makes, until he says softly, “For the record, I think you’ll make an amazing mother someday.”

I choke back a sob and pound a fist onto his big, stupid chest.

He whispers, “Violent, but amazing.”

“Stop talking. Please stop talking. My heart can’t

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