My gaze travelled from his sinful mouth which had tortured, teased and ravished me last night, to the hollow of his collar bone and the ink which coiled across it. My eyes kept dipping further down to the dusting of hair travelling beneath his boxers and the impressive bulge filling them out. I couldn’t help but fantasise about what it would be like to give myself to him completely, to experience the full, unrestrained might of this twisted creature and watch him fall apart for me. But Kyan clung to his rules. He didn’t screw girls on campus. Apparently he just fondled them, touched them until their souls splintered and gave out orgasms with his hands and tongue like free candy.
A frown pulled at my brow as I realised I wasn’t special to him. He’d probably been with countless girls on campus even if he hadn’t stuck his dick in any of them. It made my insides twist as I pictured someone like Pearl Devickers being touched by him, pawing at his flesh. Flesh which I was currently wrapped in and wanted to own every inch of. The mere thought of it made jealousy rise in me like a rabid animal.
Shit, I knew I was getting in deep here. I wanted to sever the nerves that connected me to my emotions so that I could conduct this plan without things getting messy. But as Kyan ground himself into me and heat pooled between my thighs all over again, I knew I was in trouble. I never planned to end up back here and I was ashamed of myself for giving in to temptation at the first real test. But Kyan was a drug pure and simple. One taste led to a second, and a second led to a third. Pretty soon I’d be in rehab telling a circle of strangers, Hi I’m Tatum Rivers and I’m addicted to cruel boys with black hearts.
The longer I lay there, the more my veins began to burn as I thought of how foolish I’d been last night. Kyan wouldn’t even kiss me. And any attention he did give my body was all on his terms. He’d even gotten me to say please.
At first, I’d thought I was in control, thinking if I just took what I needed then it wouldn’t be so bad. But the more I tasted of him, the more I craved. I could have let him please me and held onto an inch of power over him, but no. I’d gone down on him too and hell, I couldn’t even find it in myself to be mad at that. I’d ached to make Kyan fall apart in the way he’d done to me. But when I looked back on last night as a whole, it was clear he’d been the one pulling the strings. And not just the ones securing my bikini in place.
You idiot, Tatum.
What he withheld from me was a twisted kind of power play. Like I wasn’t good enough for his lips on mine or the full extent of his desire. I was still just his toy. One he liked to take out of the box and mess with from time to time. And maybe that shouldn’t have cut into me as deeply as it did. Kyan’s reputation preceded him and I was a fool to think the side of him I saw was anything but a seductive lie. I had no doubt he devoured women like he devoured his breakfasts. Messily, ferociously and when he was done he left someone else to clean up the plate. If I didn’t tread more carefully, I was going to end up with more than my pride bruised.
I tried to slide out from under his tree trunk of an arm with a growl of irritation, but in true Kyan fashion, he didn’t budge an inch.
“I’ll dig your eyes out with a spoon and shove them up your Aunt Consuela’s ass,” he murmured in his sleep.
“For god’s sake Kyan.” I turned, pinching his nipple and twisting hard, rage making me forget how dangerous it was to wake this sleeping wolf.
He growled like he liked it, grabbing hold of me and yanking me on top of him. I gasped in surprise and his eyes opened, a sleepy smirk on his face as he gripped my hips and ground me against his hard length.
I tried to ignore how good that felt and how my heart fluttered at the sight of this man beneath me. I wanted to conquer him like an empress invading a savage land. I wanted to tame the people, build roads and hospitals and provide food to the-
Jesus fucking Christ, Tatum, stop trying to civilise the country of Kyan.
“Morning, baby,” he purred.
“Let go of me,” I snarled, surprising myself with how sharp my voice came out. And that was when I realised the true extent of my fury. I was hot and bothered and sick of his shit. I deserved a man who gave me all of himself, not bits and pieces. Like I should be so grateful for the crumbs he tossed me when I got hungry.
Why do I care anyway? It’s not like I want him to be my boyfriend. That label could never be put on Kyan Roscoe. He was a manenemy. Simple as that.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Whasup?” he slurred.
“Let. Go,” I growled and he did, frowning at me as I climbed out of bed and threw the door open. I was angry to the core, my dad’s temper surfacing in me. It always took longer to raise its head in me, but here it was and it wanted a fight.
I stormed out of the room, my skin too
