Chapters (66)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Keep Reading
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sneak Peek
- Find Me
- Books by Mary Catherine Gebhard
- Acknowledgments
He stepped closer, voice a low snarl. “What do you think you see?”
I stuttered. “I—I—”
“Tell me, Snitch. What do you see?” He cornered me against the wall, shoulders wide and head bent. Forcing me to crane my neck back to see into his eyes. “You must have painted a pretty fucking picture in your head. I wonder if you can outdo my stans—their pictures are pretty goddamn perfect.”
“It’s not pretty,” I whispered at last.
He reeled, and even in the low light, I saw the surprise, the furrowed brow.
Then he slammed his hands on either side of my head. “I should get it over with, right? Fuck you. Get you out of my system.” His hands came to my dress, hiking up the fabric. “The girl I’ve always wanted finally wants to make it work, but the girl I never wanted won’t get out of my fucking head.”
“I...” My word dripped off on a gasp, or was it a sigh? As his hands fisted my dress higher, his body pressing hot into mine. “That’s not what I meant,” I managed.
“What’s your safe word.”
I met his eyes. “Mr. Crowne.”
He leaned down, forehead pressed against mine, and shoved the fabric of my dress into my hand. He forced me to hold it up for him, keeping me open and bare for him. He caressed the inside of my thighs with one hand, ghosting bruises on my flesh, the ones he’d given me just days before. I couldn’t stop my shiver.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Snitch?” he asked lightly, his breath teasing my lips.
“You said no kissing…”
His laugh feathered my lips.
“Want me to say your name?” His touch rose higher, over my panties.
Yes.
I shouldn’t.
But, God, yes.
His eyes locked with mine, ripping, piercing.
Maybe I should look away, but I couldn’t.
“Know I know it’s you I’m kissing?”
His lips were so close now, I could taste the warmth, taste the lollipops on his breath.
He pushed aside my panties, sliding inside me, and I sucked in a breath. In and out, slow, easy, torturous. His thumb slid around my clit but never touched it. My heart was a traitor, beating too fast. My skin prickled and my gut tightened. My only reprieve knowing he can’t read my thoughts.
“Know I want to kiss you.” The only way I knew I’d slightly affected him was the grit in his voice.
He pressed against my clit just as he pressed his lips to mine.
“I don’t want you,” he whispered, as I shattered against his fingers. His lips were warm, wet, but barely touching me. Just enough so I could feel the vibration of his cruel, cruel words.