Then, instead of undoing my pants, his hand slides under Striker’s shirt. He starts pushing it up.
Humiliation and panic wash over me. I try to twist against him, and he fists the cloth, shoving the tee and my halter underneath up until my breasts spill out. Anyone who came back here wouldn’t be able to miss them, bared and in full view. My nipples peak under his gaze, begging to be sucked.
He pushes the shirt further, up to my neck. Eyes blazing, he rakes his gaze over the lines he drew on my skin with his knife. His fingers trace each one, above my breasts, across my stomach, around each mound. I hiss between my teeth and squirm.
“Fucking beautiful. I love my marks on you.”
“You’re sick,” I croak.
He presses harder against one of the marks, swiping his finger across it until I bite my lip to keep from crying out at the sting.
“Please, that hurts…”
He growls and jerks my head back, licking the many lines he cut above my breasts. The tip of his tongue traces each mark, igniting a burning sting that makes me whimper and causes my sex to clench. The roughness of his beard grazing the skin only intensifies the sensations.
I pant and writhe helplessly. He licks and sucks on the tender, marked flesh, savoring each one. At the same time, his hands massage my breasts with just the right pressure and then squeezing almost too hard. Pleasure-pain sends a rush through me, and I inhale sharply, hating and loving his torment all at once.
Spider jerks his head up. His eyes blaze into mine.
“Fuck,” he rumbles. “I almost lost you today.”
My mind reels, confused by the longing I hear in his voice. He almost sounds pained, and yet he can’t be. That would mean he cares for me, that he came for me because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing me. This is not the man I almost fell for the night Cap was shot. This is a different man, one who isn’t capable of such emotions.
One of his hands presses to the wall, and out of the corner of my eye, I see it shaking, hear his fingers digging into the surface.
He leans in, inhaling my scent. “Do you have any idea what I would have done if I had lost you?” His voice is a razor’s edge, an animalistic growl in my ear.
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. I shake my head, hanging on his every word, longing to hear what’s coming, yet terrified of the violence raging in him. My hips rock forward, seeking his closeness, needing his body hard against mine.
“I’d have destroyed everything that got in my path.” He swallows, and his voice is hoarse. “I need to be inside you right now. I want the whole world to hear you screaming my name.”
“Spider, you don’t make any sense. I’m just a thief to you. You—”
“Shut up.” He tongues my earlobe into his mouth and bites it hard enough that I let out a whimper. The pain goes right between my legs. He releases my breast and his hand slides down my front, to the waist of my pants again.
I jolt, panic pricking me once more.
With a threatening slowness he undoes the button on my jeans. I pant, dread mixing with fiery hunger I have no business feeling. If he finds that wallet…
Spider slides the zipper of my pants down.
My eyes veer to the corridor. No one is near the hall at all.
“No one is going to stop me,” he murmurs, laving my ear with his tongue. “The waitress knows I took you back here. I could fuck you right here and anyone who saw it would turn away.”
My heartbeat thuds in my ears. A mix of panicked helplessness and heady arousal scorches my veins.
Spider slides his fingers into the front of my pants, down my panties. He drags two of his fingers through my folds. Wetness coats them. A growl leaves him, and he strokes my clit, teasing until the ache leaves me panting, my hips rocking into his touch.
“Spider, please.” I try to push at his hand.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he rasps.
I deflate. There’s no help to be had, and if I resist, he’ll only find some way to make it worse. I close my eyes and put my hands behind me.
“Good girl.” He grinds himself into me, and I can feel the hard ridge of his desire jabbing at my belly through his pants while