“Hell no,” he denied vehemently. “I’ve wanted to fuck you from the second I saw you pointing that bloody pistol at me.”
His crude words stirred the fierce need clawing inside her. The rawness of him. The blatant hunger in his eyes. The pure, unfiltered evidence of his desire.
There was no need for tender words or unkeepable promises. Right now, in this moment, their insatiable need for each other was enough.
It was everything.
The heat between them. The hollowness inside her. The lustful craving for more of the pleasure he wanted to give her. The desire to pleasure him in return.
It was lust. Simple. Real. Honest.
Looking into his eyes, she saw a perfect reflection of the deep, bold desire she felt inside. But she saw something else as well. A question. An uncertainty. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked thickly.
The thought that he might be doubting the depths of her need for him—even for a moment—inspired a sharp ache in her chest. She was suddenly desperate to ensure he knew exactly how badly she wanted to experience every intimacy with him. But what could she say at a moment like this...?
The only thing that came to mind was to speak to him in words he’d easily understand. Words she was shocked to even consider uttering.
After the vulnerability and generosity he’d shared with her, surely she could find it in herself to be bold. To be as exposed and brazen as he was himself.
With her heart thundering, she gave another urging motion of her hips, making his jaw muscles tense, before she brought her mouth to his and whispered breathlessly, helplessly against his lips, “Please. Fuck me.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Mason’s heart stopped.
Had she really just uttered those filthy, beautiful words? Spoken in her husky, lust-filled voice with perfectly refined intonation?
He had to believe it because everything in him was suddenly clamoring to do exactly what she’d demanded. His cock throbbed so hard it felt like he’d burst. His whole body shook with the need to thrust into her soft, wet heat.
He kissed her. Hard. With all of the violently wound passion inside him. And when she kissed him back, just as fiercely, he wondered if he’d lost his mind.
How could he be here otherwise?
He was a hulking brute who’d been born and raised in a hovel to a prostitute mother and gin-loving father who demanded obedience in his children with his fists. He was a bare-knuckle boxer turned moneyman who wasn’t a stranger to using intimidation and fear to gain what he desired. A man who’d nearly lost his daughter forever due to his own selfish neglect.
What twist of fate had allowed an arsehole like him into the bed of this fascinating woman?
After her breathy whispered words, she’d stilled, awaiting his response.
Another time. Another him. Another woman, perhaps he wouldn’t have hesitated.
He brought his hands up to frame her face. Holding himself on his elbows braced beside her shoulders, he took in the sight of her.
A soft, silken cloud of dark auburn hair pillowed her head in a stark contrast to the white bedcovering. Her strong eyebrows were slightly furrowed as she allowed his perusal. He could see she was starting to worry about his delay but was doing her best not to show it. She was so brave. Still, he took his time admiring her perfectly straight nose. Her strong but elegant jawline. The modestly curved arches of her upper lip and the full cushion of her bottom lip that begged for his teeth.
After lingering for a moment on her mouth, he finally met her gaze. Dark, guarded eyes met his from within a thick fringe of lashes.
In the short time he’d known Lady Katherine Blackwell, he’d come to expect certain indisputable things about her.
She was fiercely loyal, courageous, and clever. She didn’t trust easily. Her stubbornness could be frustrating, but he knew it came from a need to control the uncertainties in her life to best protect and guide her brother. He also knew that when she made a decision about something it was due to careful consideration and thorough assessment.
But none of that explained how he’d ended up here in her bed.
“Why me?” The gruffness of his question broke the quiet hovering around them.
Her scowl deepened.
With a sigh, she ran her hands lightly up and down his back, causing a fine tingling across his skin. “Is it so difficult to believe I desire you?”
He lifted the corner of his mouth but couldn’t summon a full grin. “A lady like you? Damned near impossible,” he countered.
She arched an imperious brow. “A lady like me? What does that mean?”
He chuckled at her swift rise of temper. “No offense, luv. But you probably should’ve run screaming the second you met me.”
Her gaze was fierce and intent. “You don’t frighten me, Mason.”
The sound of his name on her lips for the first time triggered an odd tremble in his belly. He frowned at the sensation and his next words came out harsher than he’d intended. “I should. I’m not a good man.”
“But you want to be,” she whispered.
He did. It was true. But it didn’t mean he had a chance at being good enough for her. A growl rolled from his chest.
As though sensing his agitation, she reached up to cover his hands—still framing her face—with hers. Her eyes darkened as a soft breath slid from her lips. “I’m here because I want to be. I need you, Mason. Don’t deny me.”
Warmth spread through him, followed by a fierce spear of longing. She was right. She was always right. A slow smile spread his lips as he gave a short, subtle roll of his hips, allowing the crown of his penis to just barely kiss her soft entrance.
Her lashes fluttered as she drew a swift inhale and her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
Shudders of pleasure ran through his body. Lowering his mouth to her ear, he murmured huskily,
