Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(12)

“You did not just say that to me,” she bit out.

“Jesus, woman,” he boomed, looked side to side and back to her. “You’re the one stormed in here, gettin’ up in my face and my space, puttin’ your hands on me, stickin’ your nose in shit that’s not yours to have. What’s your problem?”

“You bring me my checks,” she declared.

“Not anymore,” he fired back.

“You bring me my checks,” she demanded.

He leaned again toward her.

“Not anymore,” he snarled.

And then, Jesus, fuck …

She was on him.

She was all over him.

Plastered down his front, hands clenched hard in his hair yanking his head down to hers, she had her mouth to his and her tongue in his mouth.

God, nectar.

Fuck, heaven.

He ripped his mouth from hers, planted a hand in her chest and shoved her back a lot harder than he’d ever touch any woman (or any woman who had not done Chaos wrong) so she reeled away five paces.

He couldn’t apologize.

He needed to draw a line.

For her.

For him.

For her boys.

For Chaos.

“Get your shit together, Keely,” he growled.

“Fuck me, Hound,” she whispered.

His cock, stirring to attention the minute he heard her voice outside a damned door, got instantly hard.

She was watching him and fuck him, fuck him, that needy look on her face …

Christ.

It cost him but he replied, “You need it, woman, hook up at a bar or get yourself a vibrator.”

“You know how I need it and you know that won’t work.”

“How did I become your dick to play with?” he asked and did it mean.

She stared him right in the eye and returned, “You know how.”

He’d hid it from her.

He’d hid it.

He stared right back at her and knew he hadn’t.

“Get the fuck outta my house,” he ground out.

She didn’t get out of his house.

She also didn’t lose eye contact.

Not once, even though he eventually only felt her gaze on him because what she did next, he didn’t have it in him not to watch.

She took off her clothes.

Every stitch.

Standing right in front of him.

Then she turned and he watched her round ass and long legs with her sheet of hair swaying down her back walk out of his living room, down his hall where she disappeared at the end in his bedroom.

He drew in a big breath.

Then he drew in another one.

After that, he prowled down the hall and it took everything he had not to stop dead in the doorway, or turn around and walk right out of his house, never to come back, when he saw her curled on her side on top of his dirty sheets, clutching his pillow to her front, her eyes to him walking through the door.

Her hand was between her legs.

He stopped at the foot of the bed and whispered, “Baby, you need to get the fuck out.”

Again with her gaze latched to him, she pushed the pillow aside, rolled to all fours, crawled to him, and it was a miracle he didn’t come in his jeans when she got close, rose up to her knees and put a hand to his stomach.

“Baby, you need to do me,” she whispered back, running her hand down his stomach, over his belt, cupping his hard crotch.

Hound clenched his teeth.

He’d told her boys time and again, he did not care if they were drunk. He did not care if they were with a tease. He did not care how far it got.

There was no excuse to lose control.

He believed that. Every word he’d spouted at them, drilling it in. Making it pure, fucking gospel that they never took advantage of a woman.

In that instant, he knew he’d lied.

With a low animal noise he didn’t know he had it in him to make, he grasped her at the back of her thighs, yanked forward, making her fall to her back in his bed with her legs open.

And then he dropped to his knees and buried his face in Keely’s pussy.

More nectar.

Sheer heaven.

She wrapped her legs around his head, not his shoulders, his head, her calves drawing him deeper and he ate her, beautiful, fuck, gorgeous, sucking her clit hard, fucking her with his tongue, licking her glistening black curls until they gleamed.

She didn’t groom, not much, enough she could wear a bathing suit.

Other than that, natural, thick, lush, dark, forbidden, Keely.

She panted and she gasped and she bucked under his mouth, and it took way too short of a time to have her wild, writhing, panting, her fingers tight in his hair, her cries piercing the room, coming.

And doing it hard.

He surged up, wiping the back of his hand on his mouth before he grasped her ankles and flipped her to her belly.

She shifted to her side and his hand darted out, spanking one cheek of her round ass.

She stilled except her eyes slid up to him.

“I put you where I want you and I take it like I like it and you give it that way, Keely,” he rumbled, and then watched as the slaked look went out of her face and her hungry one replaced it.

“Yes, Hound,” she whispered.

He put his hands under her arms, yanked her farther into the bed and followed her there.

Once in, he hauled her ass up so she was on her knees, seeing the mark of his hand standing out red on her cheek.