Fire Inside (Chaos #2)(28)

“Hop,” I breathed, not quite done coming when the impossible happened and it started building again.

“Missed your eyes, baby,” he whispered, his h*ps powering fast, his thumb pressing deep.

“Hop,” I panted, my limbs around him tensing.

“Missed you, lady.”

Oh God.

I pressed my mouth to his. He drove hard with his h*ps and pressed his thumb tight then circled.

The best.

I just had the best and, God, God, he made it better.

“Missed you too, honey.”

That was me, sharing what I shouldn’t, doing what I shouldn’t, holding tight, lifting my h*ps to get as much of him as I could, seeking his thumb, pressing against his body, my lips moving against his.

“I know you did, baby,” he groaned before his tongue slid into my mouth, his thumb executing a maneuver that should be patented. My second orgasm seared through me so deep, it had to have left an internal scar and I whimpered down his throat.

He planted himself to the root and his grunt turned into a groan that drove down mine.

We kissed through our orgasms and heavy breathing, miraculous and beautiful, and only when it slid away did his mouth and his ’tache glide down my cheek to my neck where he gave me the sweet crash after the mind-blowing high.

I held on, felt it, memorized it, every inch, his c**k buried deep, his weight on me, the smell of him, his warmth, his mouth, the tickle of his whiskers, his everything.

Before I could accomplish this feat, he spoke.

“You’re sleepin’ here.”

I closed my eyes and my limbs convulsed before they loosened so I could prepare to push him away.

His h*ps pressed into mine. That felt really good, which was really bad, and I was dealing with that when his head came up.

“You’re sleepin’ here. When I let you sleep, you’re doin’ it not in your slut clothes but in my tee and tomorrow, when we wake up, we’re talkin’.”

“Hop—”

“Shut it.”

I shut it but my confused, scared, post-orgasmic haze lifted so I shut it on a glare.

Before I could take him to task for telling me to shut it, he began talking again.

“Tonight, you got drunk and you nearly got yourself raped. Tomorrow, we talk about what’s in your head, what’s in our future, and how we’re gonna play it. You are not closin’ down on me. You are not shuttin’ me out. I tried to give you that, you nearly got raped. I’m done givin’ you that.”

“We don’t have a future,” I informed him.

“We have a future,” Hop informed me.

“We don’t.”

“Lady, we do.”

My eyes narrowed and I snapped loudly, “Don’t!”

He grinned and pointed out, “Seated deep, babe. I get rid of this condom, gonna eat you until you come ’cause I miss you on my tongue. Then I’m gonna f**k you again and maybe let you go down on me before I f**k you again. You wanna keep arguing, we’ll do it tomorrow when… we…” his grin didn’t leave as his face dipped closer, “talk. Now, I gotta go get rid of this condom. You gonna do somethin’ stupid so I have to cuff you to the bed?”

His last words made me blink in surprise, and such was my surprise that I forgot how much his first words turned me on and how his words before that ticked me off.

Therefore, it was with curiosity as well as stupidity that I asked, “You have handcuffs?”

Hop moved, swiftly and unexpectedly. He pulled out. I gasped. He kissed my throat then my body was hauled around so I was righted in the bed. Before I knew it, one arm was up and one bracelet from a set of handcuffs was on my wrist, the other around a slat in his headboard.

My head tilted way back. I stared at my wrist cuffed to the bed.

“Yeah, Lanie, I got handcuffs.” Hop stated the obvious.

My eyes went to him.

He grinned.

I growled.

Yes, actually growled.

He smiled.

“Uncuff me!” I cried.

“Maybe, when I’m back from the can.”

“Hop, do not move before you uncuff me,” I demanded.

He bent and kissed my chest, then he did precisely what I told him not to and rolled off the bed, yanking his jeans up his hips.

“Hopper Kincaid, uncuff me!” I shrieked.

He stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned to me. “Don’t know, honey. It’s a crapshoot. They’re here often so Tyra and Tack could be just down the hall.”

My mouth snapped shut.

Hop burst out laughing.

This miffed me because he looked good doing it.

He always looked good laughing but somehow, even infuriated, cuffed to his bed, it hit me that he looked better doing it in his room, shirtless, jeans undone, after just having bedded me.

Damn!

I glared at him and watched as he and his great ass sauntered into the bathroom.

I flopped on the bed and jerked my cuffed hand around to see if the slat might be loose.

It wasn’t.

I stopped doing that, stared at the ceiling and seethed.

Mostly I seethed about Hop cuffing me to the bed, grinning and looking good laughing when I was angry, and I did this so I wouldn’t seethe at me getting out of bed at midnight, inexplicably finding trouble that could have been life-altering in a bad way, and ending the night somewhat naked, cuffed to Hop’s bed on Chaos.