She was still smiling when she walked out of the changing room, Ginny’s dress folded in the crook of her arm. And it stayed frozen on her face when the scene taking place at the register unfolded in front of her.
The female clerk was flirting with Elias, leaning seductively on one elbow and flipping her long, midnight hair.
Okay, fine, so he wasn’t giving the clerk the time of day. Some might even say he was outright ignoring her as he scribbled his signature on the credit card receipt. But that didn’t stop tiny explosions going off in Roksana’s ears. If she had fangs, they would already have been out and very likely covered in blood. Her stomach swam with boiling oil and a screech burned in her throat, begging to be released.
This was not a petty feeling. It was a flash flood. It was a firing of synapses in her brain, a short-circuiting of veins and wiring. An air-splitting howl from the pits of a cavern inside her no one had ever visited.
Obviously sensing her presence, Elias turned his head and locked eyes with Roksana. In a snap, his expression went from bored to a mixture of furious and voracious, gold swimming in his eyes, his tongue tucking into the corner of his mouth.
“There’s the beautiful girlfriend I mentioned,” he drawled.
Tucker stuck his head out from behind Elias. “He did mention you. Three times. Witnessed the whole thing.”
“I think I still want to stab somebody,” Roksana choked out, no longer recognizing her own emotions. Without a command from her brain, she grabbed a hanger off the closest rack and snapped it over her knee, tossing it down at Elias’s feet. “Why are you continuing to stand there?”
“We’re going to need a minute,” Elias said, striding in her direction and calmly throwing a bristling Roksana over his shoulder. Continuing on without a hitch.
Her jealousy kept her paralyzed until they were almost to the dressing room, then she started to fight, though she wasn’t sure who or what she was fighting, only that she couldn’t bear the claws digging into her middle.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” she hissed. “I want to be alone.”
“Maybe that’s what you want.” Elias walked them into the farthest stall, drawing her forward off his shoulder, pinning her hard to the wall. “But you need my cock.” He rammed his hips up between her thighs and it felt so good, she slapped him across the face. The hard contact from her palm only put a savage smile on his face. “More?”
Lust blanketing her senses and robbing her of reason, she slung her legs around him, squeezing his hips with her knees. “More.”
He licked the curve of her throat, his hands busy between their bodies unzipping his jeans. “You want me to make it hurt, baby. Don’t you? You behaved like a brat and now you want to be fucked like one?”
The walls of her femininity seized so tightly, her eyes crossed. Oh God, what new level of dirty was this? Hadn’t they hit the ceiling of it last night? Or would a ceiling ever exist for them? “Yes. Yes. Just like that.”
Elias’s mouth stamped down over her gasping one, his hand positioning the wide head of his shaft between the damp lips of her sex, thrusting home in one mighty move, her answering scream muffled by a vicious kiss. His hips pumped once, twice, a third time, then held deep, those amber eyes boring into hers. “Take what you feel right now and imagine living with it all the fucking time. Whether other males are around or not. Doesn’t matter. Just knowing they might happen past you makes me so hard to claim this pussy, Roksana. I want to claim it day and night.” His drives turned rough and punctuated, mean—and she gloried in every single one. “And I’ve been locked in this state for fucking years, so don’t you dare give me a goddamn attitude after feeling it once. Don’t make me laugh.”
Who knew she liked being chastised so much?
Liked? No, she lived for it.
Broken sounds tripped from her mouth, though she could barely hear them over the rattling of the dressed room stall, the entire place shaking with every surge of his hips.
His lower body was so robust, pressed so tightly between her thighs that she couldn’t even close them enough to squeeze his waist. They were splayed open, parallel to the wall, her knees occasionally smacking into the plaster. Bump, rattle, bump, rattle, bump.
She tossed back her head and revealed her neck, desperate to be fed on.
Desperate to be salivated over, desperate to satisfy.
Without warning, Elias crowded closer, flattening her so securely to the wall, she could scarcely draw breath. “My bite is yours alone.” His voice was dangerous against her ear. “My fuck is yours alone. You don’t question that again, are we clear?”