“Like I’d finger myself for you! Lying, cheating, sack of shit!”
He licked me from pussy to ass. My scream caught on a hoarse moan.
“Do whatever you want.” Nathan spun and dropped me on the seat.
My chest heaved, bursting out of my shirt. He helped out by ripping it clean off my body.
I smacked him across the face.
“Starting this off right, baby,” he said, chuckling. He shoved his boxers to his ankles—amid the tatters of my favorite T-shirt.
“Socks,” I barked.
“Forgot you had a thing about that.” He bent to peel off the remains of his clothing. Finally whole and naked for me.
Nathan threw the last one over his shoulder and gripped my calves. I bit my lip hard as he spread my legs, draping them over the arms.
“I won’t give you the satisfaction.” Nathan pressed me in, the hairs on his arm tickling my temple as he grabbed the top rail. “For once, you’re giving me everything, Nathan. And getting nothing in return.”
I tasted his smirk on the breath teasing my lips. “Whatever you say.”
Nathan pulled back without releasing his hold on the chair. We locked eyes as he gripped his length. I saw him moving in my periphery, but didn’t look. Not yet.
Holding my breath, I pushed one strap off my shoulder, leading his attention down. The other followed and my bra joined my clothes on the floor. The challenge leaked from his expression.
“Shit, Belle.” It sounded like the words were ripped out of him. “You’re so beautiful.”
Now, I looked.
Nathan stroked from base to tip in slow, languid movements. Precum gathered on his crown, and my tongue darted out seeking a taste like it had so many times before.
Soft, guttural grunts filled the air, slipping into my ear and traveling the long journey to my core. My lower belly ignited in flames, heating the lifetime lock keeping out Nathan Prince. It melted with the shreds of my resolve.
My knuckles whitened clamping on the chair. Refusing to touch him or myself seemed like a good idea at the time. But all I kept thinking was a few feet down and a few inches forward, and he’d be inside of me.
“Don’t make me beg, Belle.” What Nathan was thinking was all over his face.
His accusations about Carter rang loud in my head. “Faster,” I ordered.
He complied, jerking and roughing his cock until my lower belly tightened to the point of no return. I arched my back, ass coming off the seat, and—
Nathan exploded. Hot spurts covered my face and chin, pulling a gasp out of me. I just blinked at him—too stunned at his cum running between my breasts to think.
He ran a track through his gift, smearing it on my mouth. “Your plan to keep me from enjoying this is backfiring, B. ’Cause I’m liking this immensely.”
My response was to hook my legs around his neck and force him down. “You interrupted. Finish the job.”
“With pleasure.”
Nathan secured me under the legs, lifting me free of the chair, and descended like a starving man does a plate of biscuits. My head fell back, moans flowing free. I could say a lot about the time Nathan and I were together, but none of it would be against the sex. We had that down.
He rolled my clit around his tongue, playing with me till I thought I would scream.
“N-Nathan, do it.”
He felt around, landed on my hand, and peeled it off the seat. It was sunk into his curls and I hung on tight, pulling him closer as I moved against him, using his lips, tongue, and face as my playthings.
“Do it!” I cried.
Two fingers pushed past my folds, filling me to the depths, and then scissoring open for Nathan to dart inside. Nathan Prince looking me in the eyes as he tongue-fucked me was tied with Preston and Mirror Belle’s adventures for the most erotic events in the history of human sexuality.
I was powerless against that. Against him.
My muscles tensed, nails digging into his scalp, toes curling, and Nathan grinned in the midst of his ministrations. I wasn’t in control of this afternoon blip. I was his the moment I stepped outside.
My orgasm wracked my body. I spasmed, foot coming down hard on my bowl of risotto and tipping onto us. I went down and took him with me. We collapsed in a mess on the floor.
“Damn,” he breathed. “If I say I got nothing from that, will you make me do it again?”
I was coming down, so I couldn’t smack or kiss him. I was still deciding which.
A better thing to ponder is how we went from fighting to covered in our cum and dinner.
“We’re not doing anything like this again.” I pushed myself up on shaky legs and rescued the remains of my clothes. “Kindly exit the same way you came.”
“That’s it?” Nathan watched me scramble around, looking more and more amused. “I could finish the job properly. Spread those tasty lips and ram you until you come so hard, you black out.”
My lower belly clenched so fiercely, I tripped.
“Mouth, pussy, or both. Your choice.”
“No, thank you.” My voice was as prim as the dame’s. Marching inside, I grabbed the door handles. “This never happened.”
“At least let me use the door,” he said.
“No.”
I slammed the doors on his laugh, and then fled to the bathroom to escape it. I lay on the cast-iron surface, surrendering to the boiling rain shower. Just to torture myself, I tallied my score for the day.
Carter: 1. Belle: 0.
Nathan: 1. Belle: 0. (Unless one screaming hot orgasm counted.)
Preston: 1. Belle: ½ point.
My senses returned after Delilah busted in on us, but the fact remained when those twenty minutes were up, I was going to tear Preston apart.
A week ago, I was secure in my ability to resist guys like them, and in one day, they proved me wrong, wrong, and wrong.
I lazed about in the shower for a little longer. My growling stomach eventually roused me. Most of my dinner ended up everywhere but in my mouth. Time to scrounge the kitchen for leftovers.
Padding into the room, I pulled on a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. My hair I twisted into a bun. I reached for my room key and phone. It went off as I pulled on my shoes.
Mom.
I answered, sticking the phone in the crook of my neck. “Hey, Cecilia. I was just about to call you. We need to discuss what you may have heard from Mrs. Desai. Although I’m hoping once she said the name Knight, you knew—”
“Arabella.”
I lurched back, throwing the phone away like it burned.
“Arabella?” A deep, masculine bass echoed through the speaker. A bass that was distinctly not my mother’s or father’s.
“Mom?” I croaked. “Mom!” I dove for the phone. “Why are you calling from her cell?! What did you do to her?!”
“Calm down. That woman is fine for now.” His sickly, syrupy voice poured out, spreading into my mind like miasma. Months since I had heard this voice, and every day of them spent praying I’d never hear it again.
Fear dropped me to my knees. “What did you do? If you’ve hurt her—”
“I haven’t touched her,” he broke in. “And if you don’t want that to change, you’ll tell me where you are. You haven’t been home for days.”
My stomach twisted, pushing bile up my throat. He found me. He was watching me. For how long?