Cruel Fortune (Cruel #2)(83)

“Natalie, stop. Just stop.”

When it was clear that I wasn’t going to be consolable, Penn reached forward and grabbed both of my wrists. I struggled against him, and he pulled them over my head, backing me into the wall and bracing me against it with his body.

“Breathe,” he said soothingly. “Breathe, Natalie.”

I took a deep inhalation and slowly released it. I’d been near hyperventilating. And I hadn’t even known it. Just panic coursing through me. Taking over. My whole body was shaking. The knowledge that I’d fallen into this trap again—only worse—had shattered something vital within me. I couldn’t seem to find that string to pull me back to myself.

“He read my manuscripts,” I whispered, my bottom lip trembling. I bit down into it, hard enough to keep me in the here and now. My blue eyes were clear as I looked up into his face. “He fucking read them.”

“I know.” He sounded pained. “I’m sorry. I wish I could save you from this.”

He’d tried. He’d told me. Addie had told me. But I hadn’t listened. I’d been so fucking stupid. And now, where was I?

I shook my head and suddenly felt exactly how we were positioned against the wall. Penn’s hips pressed into my own. His hands securing my wrists over my head. His lips mere inches from mine.

It hadn’t been sexual until that moment. Until the only thing that I could see was his mouth and feel was his cock and want was him.

I jerked forward against his bindings and pressed my mouth against his.

He pulled back sharply. “Natalie, stop. I’m not going to kiss you because you’re mad at him.”

“Okay,” I said and tried to reach him again.

“I’m serious.”

“I’ve wanted this since I saw you again,” I told him. “And now, there’s no reason to say no.”

He faltered for a moment. Struck by my words. Contemplating them. “I…”

“Penn,” I said with fire in my eyes and heart, “shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.





Natalie





36





Abandon. That was what his lips tasted like.

Bliss. That was what his hands felt like.

Reverence. That was what his body sang to me.

Our lips crushed against one another, vying for authority. We demanded more and more from each other. Wanted to give in completely to this feeling. To the knowledge that we both wanted it and nothing stood in our way.

My fingers fumbled with buttons. Each one making me curse his damn suit. I needed skin. I wanted his heat. I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and let it drop to the floor, forgotten. He removed his tie and then yanked his own shirt off, heedless of the crumpled mess it now made at our feet. He reached for the buckle of his suit pants, but he was already sliding the zipper down my dress. A thousand-dollar dress, wasted on the hotel room floor.

“Fuck,” he breathed when he saw me standing there in nothing but a lace thong and high heels.

“Yes, please,” I responded.

His grip on my thong tightened, and suddenly, I heard a tearing sound. I gasped as the material ripped away.

“Oh my god.”

“Guess you don’t need those anymore.” He laughed softly at my exclamation and then captured my lips with his again.

I’d managed to undo his belt buckle, but he brushed my hands aside and forced them back over my head.

“Don’t move those,” he instructed.

My body was humming with desire as I watched what I couldn’t touch. He unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper. His pants pooled around his ankles, revealing his cock to me. My mouth watered, and I almost moved my hands to stroke him. But his gaze held me in place.

He slipped his hands on the outside of my thighs and hoisted me into the air. My hands dropped down onto his shoulders in shock as he braced my body back against the wall.

And neither of us had a moment to think before he thrust into me, filling me to the hilt. I groaned, leaning forward to kiss him again.

“God, yes,” I muttered incoherently.

This wasn’t steady, sweet seduction. This was Penn taking back what was his. What had always been his. Since that first night in Paris. Up until the moment he had fucked it all up. And even then, I’d wanted him.

I’d tried to deny it. I’d told myself I couldn’t want someone that I didn’t trust. That I wouldn’t give in. But, now, with all the barriers down, I knew that I’d been lying to myself.

Lying so hard.

Penn Kensington knew me inside and out. He’d fucked with my head and my heart. He’d tried to make it better. And he’d damn well been repentant about it. I knew that I held grudges, but it wasn’t until that moment—the very moment where we were joined together as one—that I saw how much damage they had done here.

Would I ever forget the damage he had inflicted? No. But right now, it didn’t matter. I could forgive him his stupidity here and now. I could move away from that anger and resentment of him using me. Manipulating me. Because it was obvious, so obvious, that this was real.

So real. More real than anything else.

And, while I was boiling over with rage, none was directed at him. Not the one who had been trying to warn me and now seemed to want to put me back together.