The Revenge (The Insiders Trilogy #3)(81)

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

I blinked a few times. “I wanted to help you.”

“Why?” His growl was more savage this time, more primal.

I was feeling it all the way between my legs, and I was beginning to throb.

“Because…” I licked my lips.

I wanted him.

Now.

Not later.

Not in a minute .

Now.

I began rubbing against him, and he was already hard. He was really hard. “Kash,” I murmured.

He grasped my other wrist and pinned it above my head.

His head still pushed so he was breathing on me, he angled his hips back.

I mewled, wanting him back where he’d been.

“You seem to mistake the position you’re in here.”

He was cold.

My eyes snapped to his face.

A whole slew of shivers moved through me.

The rational part of me, the side that thought, was telling me to proceed with caution. He was starting to lose control, a little edge at a time. But the feeling side of me, the body part of me, was starving. It’d been twelve hours ago when he left me in bed, and my mission to help had already been made up in my mind. It’d been the only thing that held me back and let me watch him leave the room. If I hadn’t decided that, I couldn’t have let him leave. If he had gone or not, neither of us would’ve known the outcome of that fight. But it was what it was.

Some of those memories were splashing reality on him. I was sputtering in the cold, and I searched his gaze again and felt chilled to the bone.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” I said, not thinking.

His eyes flashed.

I knew he wouldn’t. But in bed … yes. He would hurt me there, in a good way. He would punish me.

A raw snarl ripped from low in his throat, and his hips slammed against me.

“I told you not to push me.”

I was pushing.

“Bailey,” he rasped out.

He was losing his restraint.

Please .

Yes.

I was moving before I knew I was moving.

My hips were grinding against him. My legs lifted and he had to catch me or I would’ve fallen. He let go of my pinned wrists, his hands catching me under my thighs as my legs wrapped around him. My breasts were flush against his chest, and my hands raked through his hair.

Our mouths met.

We both knew where this was going.

Our tongues were battling.

He was loose. This monster in him. My monster.

He was out and he was in my arms, and I was stroking him, further inflaming him.

Kash gripped me, his mouth owning me before he dropped me to the floor. My feet hit the ground with a thud, but his hands caught my hips. He held me, not letting me drop farther. I was flipped around.

My wrists were caught, raised, and pinned above my head.

I was trying to rub against him, but there was another growl as he shoved my hips forward, holding me captive against the wall.

I heard a zipper.

His pants fell.

I felt the whoosh of them in the air.

A hand slid up the inside of my legs. He found my middle, one finger went in, and he bent me upward for him. A stroke. A thrust.

I was already panting, already dripping.

And then his hand left and he shoved inside.

Hard. Deep. Rough.

He was not gentle.

I did not want gentle.

I wanted these strokes, how hard he was going. I wanted to be punished .

I swear that I blacked out from the pleasure. It was pulsating, throbbing. It was so strong, so powerful, that I could only cry out as the first climax hurtled through me. It tore me on the inside and I hadn’t been ready for it.

Kash wasn’t done.

He kept thrusting.

He was becoming more forceful with each slide inside, until it wasn’t enough. The angle wasn’t doing it for him, and he pulled out. He lifted me in the air. I felt as if I were flying for the brief second, then he was inside me again. He pushed up and all the way.

My legs were wrapped so tight around him I felt the back of his hip bones gliding with his movements. His back muscles were all coiled and smooth, lithely rolling as one motion as he pounded into me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I was back up, my hands raking through his hair, and I yanked him back. This wasn’t just a one-way street.

I felt a second climax nearing, and I dragged his mouth to mine.

That was another battle. He was trying to control me. I was fighting him right back, my tongue sliding against his, invading his mouth.

A grunt from him. His hand began kneading my thigh.

I didn’t need him to help me stay upright. I was doing it all on my own. He was my own pole and I was working him right back.

His free hand slid between our bodies, pushing in for room, and he found where I was throbbing the most.

I lost it.

I started thrashing as wave after wave hit me, searing my body, and I was shaking from that last climax.

“You ass,” I hissed against his mouth.

He nipped my lip. “Yeah.” Then he took control once more, holding my head prisoner, and as he owned me there, he owned the other part of me, and he came with a roar .

I wasn’t sure who won, but there was no mistake that there’d been a full battle between us. I also wasn’t sure what either of us was fighting for, what the stakes were.