Silver Lining (Diamond #3) - Skye Warren Page 0,14

least that’s the excuse I give myself. There’s no good reason to be pulling out my erect cock when she’s injured. It’s a dangerous game with open wounds. Get too carried away and they’ll reopen.

If she’s not careful, she’ll do real damage, and all the time I’ve spent keeping her in that goddamn bed will have been for nothing.

The truth is I help her because I want her too much to stop. I need her too much.

If this is the end, and it is, then I’m not shuffling off the goddamn mortal coil without having her one more time. I’m already so hard it hurts when Holly swirls one finger around my tip.

This should be slow and gentle. I should hold my breath and try not to touch her. She should be ready to tap out when it gets to be too much, and it will get to be too much. Sex is always too much when you’re recovering from a bullet wound.

I can’t love her that way.

Not now.

Not ever.

Holly’s eyes light up when I pin her wrist in a firm grip and guide her closer. “Don’t fuck around,” I warn her. “Not unless you want to suffer the consequences.”

She bites at her lip. “I do want that. I thought it was obvious.”

Fine. Never mind the bullet wound, never mind fucking anything. An animal surge of adrenaline and need pulls my muscles tight. I’m dying of the need to fuck. Worse than that. To rut.

I’m an animal right now, and Holly doesn’t mind.

She sighs with what sounds like relief when I shove down her pants. Her panties. I kick them as far away from us as I can get them, and then I pull her into my lap. Spread her thighs wide. And notch the tip of me to the core of her, where she is very, very wet.

Goddamn it, she’s slick and hot and tight, and the minute I touch her there, I’m lost.

I fuck into her like she’s not hurt. Like we’re in those woods in France. Like the worst of everything is still ahead of us. Holly sinks down onto me with a hiss, hands braced tight on my shoulders, and I would take a thousand bullets to keep feeling the sweet grip of her pussy every minute for the rest of my goddamn life.

If I feel it another second now, this will be over.

I won’t have that.

It’s torture to lift her off me and onto the cot. It feels like hell. Holly protests, fighting me when I shove the pillow under her head and fighting me when I push her down on the bed.

It takes a lick between her legs to settle her down. To shock her into some semblance of submission. It’s not enough for me, fuck, it will never be enough, but a long lick makes her shiver and clench.

She digs her fists into the sheets and rocks her hips up to my face.

It’s twisted, how hot it makes her to be fucked rough. It’s twisted and it makes her dangerous to me and more dangerous to herself.

And it doesn’t matter anymore.

We’re a runaway train and we won’t survive the crash, but I’ll die with the taste of her on my tongue.

Holly calls me a bastard when I tease her hole. She calls me worse when I find her clit and worry at it with my teeth. She keeps saying something, over and over again, her voice so breathy and senseless that I don’t know what the hell she means until she gets a grip on the words:

Why did you stop, why did you stop?

Stop what?

Stop fucking her.

I told her I don’t know how to love her, but the truth is that I do. I know exactly what she wants. I shouldn’t give it to her. For a man like me, wrestling with the brutal morality of this is an exercise in shame and lust. Jesus, who wants to hurt a woman the way I want to hurt Holly? What kind of man would want that?

The kind of man I am.

I want it so much that my skin feels too tight. I want it so much that I’m devouring her for the sole purpose of making it last longer for me. She’s right. I am a bastard. An asshole. The devil himself.

I lift myself up to kiss one of her hip bones. Once I’m there I bite her too. “I’ll hurt you,” I tell the bite mark. “I’ll take it too far. You need