Hundreds (Dollar 3) - Page 32

She frowned. “Why would I be grateful to be ignored?”

“Grateful to be unharassed.”

“That’s wrong.” She linked her fingers together like some seer about to reveal my future or the date of my death. “Your friendship has never been a harassment.”

I chuckled low. “Friendship? You call what we have a friendship?”

“You were the first to call me a friend.” Her neck rippled as she swallowed. “I’d like to be yours in return.”

I should’ve accepted her answer. I should’ve nodded and bid her good night. I should’ve done a lot of things.

But I did none of them.

Stalking forward, I didn’t stop until I towered over her; infiltrating her space, I made her gasp and shiver. “You’d like to be my friend? After everything I’ve done?”

She sucked in a breath; her eyes dancing over my face before settling on my lips. The one fucking place she should never look because it made me hard and angry and horny and so many fucking things I should never be around her. It reminded me that I wanted this woman. I’d wanted her for weeks, and I still hadn’t had her, and now I never would because I refused to let the awful things my mother said come true.

Pim deserved better than that.

“I want to be your friend because of everything you’ve done.” Her breath turned papery; her eyes never leaving my mouth. “I want to get to know you.”

My ears took her sentence and rearranged the letters into something I wanted to hear rather than what she’d said. I heard ‘I want you to kiss me’. Even as her true words echoed behind it. Even as my hands shot forward and captured her cheeks. Even as my mouth descended on hers and my tongue tore past the soft, sweet obstruction of her lips.

Her hands captured my wrists—the same way she’d done before. Already a habit where we were concerned. She held on. Her nails dug in. But she didn’t squirm or fight. She opened to my invasion. She turned from stiff to pliant. She moaned.

I fucking lost it.

My fingers turned to shackles, holding her tight as I pushed her backward. Faster and faster, neither looking nor caring where we were going. I just needed her against something. I needed her trapped. I needed to press and thrust and feel her against me with nowhere to run.

She danced backward, her breath heating my cheeks, her tongue licking mine, matching my urgency until she slammed against something and then she was still.

I pressed my entire length against her, giving her no apology or warning as I grinded my erection into her taut belly.

Somewhere in my mind, I waited for her to scream and beg. To fall to her knees. To shut down and check out.

She did none of those things.

She kissed me back.

Fuck, she kissed me back.

It was as if the girl I’d rescued had vanished and in her place stood a stranger. A girl who kissed with recklessness born of the same desperation inside me. Kissed with the same infection I suffered as if unable to understand how she’d become so sick but desperate for a cure.

She was me.

I was her.

And goddammit, the kiss turned feral with urgency.

I groaned as she arched her hips into mine. She moaned as I bit her bottom lip, not sheathing my teeth or remembering to be gentle.

She matched me crazy to crazy, and for a second, I let go. I felt the obsession. I lived the aggression. I almost tripped into the place I could never go.

Wrenching myself back, I stumbled away. Rubbing my mouth, I hated that her taste infused with mine, fogging my mind until all I could focus on was my heartbeat and how much I wanted her.

She mimicked me, pressing fingers to red lips, her eyes wild and scared, her face white with shock. She looked like she did when I was inside her just before she’d broken into sobs.

“Fuck.” I breathed hard. “Once again, I didn’t mean to do that.” I backed up farther, then circled around her, heading into my suite. I needed a door to lock—a barricade between us so she was safe.

The bathroom would do. I’d take that shower. I’d rid myself of my desire. I’d remember who I was.

“Wait.” Pim stepped into the room, darting forward on tiny feet. “Don’t go.”

I froze, turning to face her. “But I just hurt you. Again.”

She looked at the floor, wringing her hands. “You didn’t.”

“Didn’t what? Kiss you? Slam you against the wall and try to fucking crawl inside you?”

She shivered. “I mean, yes, you did those things—”

“Exactly.” I bowed stiffly. “In that case, good night, Pim. Get the hell out of my quarters.”

She moved forward, holding up her hand. “No, wait. You did do those things, but you didn’t hurt me. I-I wanted them.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

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