All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(58)

His voice cut hard through the stillness of the room. “Is this what you want from me?” He seized her hand and pressed it against his cock. She gasped, feeling him swell against her fingers. She tried to pull free, but he held fast. “Because this is all I’ve got. All I can give, Briar. Sex. Meaningless f*cks.” He pushed her hand harder against him, moving her up and down his erection. “Now tell me to go to hell. Tell me to f*ck off.” He paused, his gaze flicking over her face. “Say it.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her too tight chest.

His head dipped, lips a hairbreadth from her mouth. “Say it,” he whispered harshly. “Say you don’t want me.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “No.”





TWENTY


IN THE NEAR dark, Briar’s eyes glowed amber fire. No. She had said no. The single word rocked him. He dropped her hand like it scalded him. Only she didn’t remove her hand from his cock right away. No, she kept it there, palming him before dropping away. Knox bit back a groan.

Heat crept over her face, shadowing the apples of her cheeks, and that made his stomach clench. He’d been inside her but she still blushed like a girl on her first date. She was still so sweet and untainted. Even after him.

She was a contrast to everything he was . . . everything he had lived through, and he wanted to pull her in and have her. Again and again until he killed that need. Until he stopped wanting her so much.

He cleared his throat. “It’s better if you go.” Better for her. Better for him, too.

God knows the impulse to keep her, take her, was there, pounding through him. She had become a craving, an addiction. A compulsion as necessary as food. He thought once would have been enough to break the habit. Then he could move on. But here she was and he still felt it.

“So we’re done, then?” She looked so purposeful as she asked this. Like it took everything in her to school her features and voice into total blandness.

He glanced away and then back to her again—like he needed a break from looking at her with her face all made-up and her hair wild and flowing. Like a woman ready to party. And there were a lot of men out there that would be more than willing to party with her once he set her free from this room.

Something swift and visceral rose up in him at that possibility. He knew she hadn’t been into the greasy-haired punk, but it wouldn’t be long before she was into someone else. Before she was with someone else. He curled his hands into fists at his sides to stop from reaching for her, to stop himself from burying his fingers in that wild hair and dragging her painted mouth to his.

“Yeah, we’re done,” he lashed out. “I can’t make it any more clear for you.”

She flinched before recovering. “So that’s it.” Her jaw locked and something glinted in her eyes that should have warned him. Should have told him she wasn’t done. Her hand came between them and cupped his dick again. “This has had enough of me, then?”

A hissed breath escaped him.

The corners of her mouth tipped up in satisfaction. “Still hard,” she mused. Her other hand popped open the button at his fly. The zipper sang down and God help him he couldn’t stop her. She delved inside and circled him with her warm, slim fingers. “You don’t feel done.”

“What are you doing, Briar?” he growled.

She worked her hand between them, pumping his cock in a few hard strokes.

She didn’t say anything, just continued to glare at him, and he knew. He knew she wanted to prove him wrong. She wanted him to eat his words.

She tugged his jeans down his hips and dropped to her knees.

Fuck. His hands clenched at his sides. She looked up at him from beneath heavy eyelids. Her look was all cold fury. She wanted to punish him. Her tongue darted out to lick the head of him and he was lost.

His head fell back against the wall of liquor bottles with a rattle. He moaned as she closed her lips around him, tormenting him with her tongue.

He balled his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her head and forcing her mouth to f*ck him harder. Faster.

His hips had a mind of their own, however, thrusting into her mouth, but she still managed to tease him, taking only half his cock past her lips.

He looked down and met her taunting eyes. She was a siren looking up at him.

“What do you want, Knox?” she whispered, her breath fanning his wet dick.

You. He wanted to shove deep into her mouth. Or better yet, he wanted to haul her up and seat her on his aching dick.

“We’re two consenting adults. What’s so wrong with this?” she taunted, her tongue sneaking out to swirl around him again. Her gaze slid sideways, eyeing one of his clenched fists. She reached out and took that fist and brought it to the back of her head . . . inviting. He held his fingers locked against all those soft strands. But he couldn’t resist forever.

His fingers unfurled, relaxing into her hair as her mouth worked over him furiously. He was so close, the small of his back tightening . . . he didn’t even register the sudden burst of music from the bar signaling the door had opened. Or the footsteps.

He only heard the voice. “Nice, Knox.”

His head snapped up and he looked over at Dean, one of the busboys.

Briar squeaked and let go of him, tipping sideways and falling on her hip. Her hair was wild around her, her deep amber eyes bulging. The classic red lips were gone, lipstick smeared onto her chin. In the near dark, color stained her cheeks like someone had just slapped her.