Page 28 of Entangled

“You’re not even a little bit mad?”

“About what?” he asked, shedding the final bits of his clothing.

“I did hit you.”

He shrugged. “I did provoke you.”

“I knew you did that on purpose.”

“And look where you are now, my sweet girl.”

Cara’s eyes flashed with her desire and irritation. “Yes, how stupid of me, I fell right back in your bed.”

“Where you belong, Cara.”

Her red lips curved at the edges in a half-hearted smile. “You’re impossible.”

“So you’ve said a few times before.”

Gian shoved his boxer-briefs down, not missing Cara’s gaze dropping to his prominent erection. He’d been as hard as fucking steel from the moment he’d touched her at the restaurant.

It was a serious problem. He intended to rectify it as soon as possible.

Gian crossed the small bit of space between him and where Cara sat on his bed. She stared up at him, still and waiting. He wanted nothing more than to feed into the dark, debasing shit running through his mind. All the urges he couldn’t fulfill elsewhere, and the needs that weren’t helped with his memories of Cara.

He held back.

Barely.

“Could you snap your fingers for me?” she asked sweetly.

Too sweetly.

“Why?”

“At least then I can say I came running for something when you called.”

Fuck.

Gian let out a hard breath. “Cara, stay or go.”

She didn’t move, neither did her blue gaze—the window into the most beautiful soul he had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“But don’t sit here and make it seem like I’m not giving you a choice,” he continued when she stayed silent. “I want you here. I have wanted you here since the day I let you walk out, but don’t make this into some hate-fuck session. It’s never going to be that and if you need that to justify how you’re going to feel tomorrow, then leave. Right now.”

Her stare slid away from his. “You can’t let me have anything, can you?”

“Not when I can see right through your shit, bella.”

“You’re making this hard on me.”

“From where I’m standing, it seems pretty fucking easy.”

“Of course it would, to you.”

Gian opened his mouth to respond, but his air caught in his throat when Cara’s hands reached for him, her fingers circled tight around his cock. She slid her palm under his sac to cradle his balls. Firm, long strokes of her hand—tight as fuck at the base, and a little looser at the tip—had his head falling back, and a thick groan escaping his chest. His cock jerked in her hand, when her thumb rolled one of his balls between her soft palm and her fingers. Gently, and not too rough, but shit if that didn’t make him flex his hips forward into her strokes for more.

He didn’t give a shit if it was her hands, her mouth, or her cunt. As long as his dick was on it, in it, or soaked by it. As long as she was touching, fucking, or doing something to him, all was well in his world.