tongue delved between my lips, tangling with my own as I fought to match his intensity.
But I never stood a chance. He pressed his body into mine. I would have stumbled if he hadn’t steadied me with his grip on my hair. He didn’t release my mouth as he pushed me backwards. I gasped in shock as my back came into contact with the wall. I barely had time to register the fact that he had released my hair before he grasped my wrist firmly. Never having let go of the other, he drew my hands up sharply, pinning them against the wall on either side of my head. The coolness of the tiles contrasted deliciously with the heat of my skin, and I shuddered in pleasure at the sensation.
The part of me that would usually be screaming at me to struggle was oddly silent. Instead, I went completely still, compliant. His tongue took possession of my mouth, stroking my own tongue firmly as he explored every inch of me. The feeling of him inside of me, claiming me, made me suddenly, acutely aware of another area that I desperately wanted Sean to fill. There was something warm and wet on my thighs, and my core pulsed in need. I pressed myself up against his hard thigh, a strange whimpering sound escaping me. I could feel his lips curve up into a satisfied smile as he continued his relentless assault on my senses.
He shifted his grip on me, his fingers reaching to entwine with mine. But when he pressed his palms to mine, I couldn’t hold back a small cry as pain seared across them.
Sean drew back from me immediately, breaking the connection between us. He grasped my hands gently this time, holding them carefully as he inspected the scrapes on my palms where I had torn them against the brick wall in that alley…
The flames within me were doused instantly as reality hit me like the shock of ice cold water to the face. How could I have possibly enjoyed what Sean was doing to me after almost being raped minutes earlier? How could I possibly want any man to touch me after that? This was so fucked up. I was so fucked up. And it was all Sean’s fault.
I quickly extricated my hands from his grip, and I was disgusted to realize that a part of me was reluctant to do so.
Unable to meet his eye, my gaze fell on the red stain that marred his t-shirt. “I should check your stitches,” I said, forcing myself to sound clinical.
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it in that sexy way. “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Claudia, I-”
I shot him a frosty look, a silent warning.
He dropped his hand, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Alright,” he said. There was a flicker of distress in his eyes, but his face was quickly schooled to an unconcerned mask. He stripped his shirt off compliantly, and I forced myself not to admire his perfect body.
I was hesitant to touch him, worried that I would be caught up in his power again. “You should go to the bedroom,” I said, my tone detached. “I’ll have to clean out the cuts in my hands and then I’ll come patch you up.”
He reached out for me. “Do you want me to help-?” He began kindly.
I jerked my hands away as though his touch would scald me. “Just go,” I said coldly, lifting my chin to stare at him defiantly.
His brows drew together, and the hand that he had extended turned to a fist. He held my gaze for a long moment, challenging me. But I wasn’t backing down, wasn’t going to turn to putty in his hands again. Seeming to recognize that I wasn’t going to yield, he turned and walked away stiffly, his muscles once again taut with repressed anger.
I didn’t allow myself to breathe out a sigh of relief until I had locked the bathroom door behind him. I wanted to fall to pieces, to slide down onto the cold tile floor and cry until all of my tears were dried up. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me. Sure, Sean had shown me some compassion, and it was possible that I had allowed myself to be
But I never stood a chance. He pressed his body into mine. I would have stumbled if he hadn’t steadied me with his grip on my hair. He didn’t release my mouth as he pushed me backwards. I gasped in shock as my back came into contact with the wall. I barely had time to register the fact that he had released my hair before he grasped my wrist firmly. Never having let go of the other, he drew my hands up sharply, pinning them against the wall on either side of my head. The coolness of the tiles contrasted deliciously with the heat of my skin, and I shuddered in pleasure at the sensation.
The part of me that would usually be screaming at me to struggle was oddly silent. Instead, I went completely still, compliant. His tongue took possession of my mouth, stroking my own tongue firmly as he explored every inch of me. The feeling of him inside of me, claiming me, made me suddenly, acutely aware of another area that I desperately wanted Sean to fill. There was something warm and wet on my thighs, and my core pulsed in need. I pressed myself up against his hard thigh, a strange whimpering sound escaping me. I could feel his lips curve up into a satisfied smile as he continued his relentless assault on my senses.
He shifted his grip on me, his fingers reaching to entwine with mine. But when he pressed his palms to mine, I couldn’t hold back a small cry as pain seared across them.
Sean drew back from me immediately, breaking the connection between us. He grasped my hands gently this time, holding them carefully as he inspected the scrapes on my palms where I had torn them against the brick wall in that alley…
The flames within me were doused instantly as reality hit me like the shock of ice cold water to the face. How could I have possibly enjoyed what Sean was doing to me after almost being raped minutes earlier? How could I possibly want any man to touch me after that? This was so fucked up. I was so fucked up. And it was all Sean’s fault.
I quickly extricated my hands from his grip, and I was disgusted to realize that a part of me was reluctant to do so.
Unable to meet his eye, my gaze fell on the red stain that marred his t-shirt. “I should check your stitches,” I said, forcing myself to sound clinical.
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it in that sexy way. “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Claudia, I-”
I shot him a frosty look, a silent warning.
He dropped his hand, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Alright,” he said. There was a flicker of distress in his eyes, but his face was quickly schooled to an unconcerned mask. He stripped his shirt off compliantly, and I forced myself not to admire his perfect body.
I was hesitant to touch him, worried that I would be caught up in his power again. “You should go to the bedroom,” I said, my tone detached. “I’ll have to clean out the cuts in my hands and then I’ll come patch you up.”
He reached out for me. “Do you want me to help-?” He began kindly.
I jerked my hands away as though his touch would scald me. “Just go,” I said coldly, lifting my chin to stare at him defiantly.
His brows drew together, and the hand that he had extended turned to a fist. He held my gaze for a long moment, challenging me. But I wasn’t backing down, wasn’t going to turn to putty in his hands again. Seeming to recognize that I wasn’t going to yield, he turned and walked away stiffly, his muscles once again taut with repressed anger.
I didn’t allow myself to breathe out a sigh of relief until I had locked the bathroom door behind him. I wanted to fall to pieces, to slide down onto the cold tile floor and cry until all of my tears were dried up. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me. Sure, Sean had shown me some compassion, and it was possible that I had allowed myself to be
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