Death Wish (Deception Duet 2) - Page 17

“Can we talk?”

She tenses and shakes her head. “All that comes out of your mouth is lies. Kind of a boring conversationalist.”

The icy bitch I first met is back. And dammit, my dick is hard. Even when she acts like this, I want her. Badly.

“I have no reason to lie anymore,” I grit out, burying my nose in her hair. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Your dick says otherwise.”

Rocking my hips against her, I grind my erection into her lower back. “My dick’s not in charge here.”

“Neither are you.”

The challenge in her tone sends currents of desire rushing through my veins. I want to remind her she’s our captive—even if she is a spoiled one—and I can do whatever I please.

Fuck, I’d sound like Scout if I told her that.

But she’s being unreasonable. I’m not looking to fuck. Just talk.

“You may not want to talk, but honestly, I don’t care. You need to. You’re feeling alienated and alone,” I growl, sliding my palms under her shirt, seeking out her delicate flesh. “If you don’t come willingly, I’ll just make you.”

“You’d like that.” She struggles to get out of my hold, but I’m stronger. “Holding me down. Is that the kink you’re into?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Her gasp is telling—partly shocked but also curious. Going with my gut, I tighten an arm around her and tug. She puts up a mild fight that I easily manage to overcome. Every hateful curse she slings my way does nothing but make my dick even harder. I haul her into my room, close the door, and lock it.

“Now sit down on the bed and behave,” I grind out. “So we can discuss this beef you have with me specifically. You practically crawled into Scout’s arms and he’s the one responsible for getting you here.”

She scoffs, clearly appalled by my words. “I didn’t crawl into his arms. And the reason I’m so pissed at you is because you let it happen!”

Tears flood her eyes but they don’t fall. She’s more angry than sad, so trying to console her right now might earn me a punch to the junk.

“I was in shock, Laundry, but then I tried to get to you,” I say quickly, grabbing her hands. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Her head bows and she refuses to look at me. “I thought it meant something.”

“It did,” I assure her, squeezing her hands.

“No, it didn’t, Sparrow. When we had sex, I thought you were someone else.” Her bottom lip trembles. I want to kiss it so fucking badly. “I’ve been duped. I’m disgusted. At you and your brothers. At myself.”

I release her hands to yank off my T-shirt. This earns her attention. She skims her gaze over my muscular chest as though she’s searching for something.

“Your tattoos are different,” she murmurs, gesturing to the inked art on my ribs. “What does that mean?”

Lifting my arm, I look down at the three jagged lines on my rib cage that appear to drip with blood and are surrounded by feathers. “It’s meant to look like stab wounds.” I point to the one on top. “One for Mom, one for Sully, and one for Scout. The feathers are me.”

“They hurt you?”

“They’re the only ones who can hurt me. Everyone else is irrelevant.” Except you. I want to say that to her but now doesn’t exactly feel like the right time.

“Why are you showing me your tattoos?” she demands, lifting her chin. “I don’t care.”

“I’m showing you me. The real Sparrow. Before we fuck. So you’ll know it really does mean something.”

“We’re not fucking.” She bares her teeth at me. “Touch me and I’ll claw your eyeballs out.”

I smirk at her. “You know I like it when you’re feisty.”

Her eyes drop to my hands as I unbutton my jeans. She sucks in a sharp breath when the zipper goes down.

“I’ll scream,” she warns.

“Oh, I bet you will.”

She scoots back on the bed, eyes narrowing. “Not out of pleasure, dumbass.”

“Don’t be so confident. We had car sex once and it was interrupted. I have plenty of ways to make you scream…in pleasure.”

I shove down my boxers and jeans, allowing my hard cock to spring free. She’s momentarily silenced, staring at my dick like it hasn’t been inside her before. Lazily, I stroke it, squeezing the head to make a bead of pre-come roll out.

“Take off your clothes, Laundry.”

“This isn’t talking,” she hisses.

Her eyes keep darting to my cock and she licks her lips to moisten them. If she knew how hungry she looked right now, she’d probably never forgive herself. I’ll get us back to where we were before. I just have to get her beneath me first. I know I can fix it.

“Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

“You’ll have to rip them off me,” she taunts. “I’ll never willingly undress for you. You’re a monster.”

Tags: K. Webster Deception Duet Dark
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