Page 83 of Heartless Sinner

I crossed my arms. “No freaking way.”

He worked the button loose, then reached for the zipper. “I’ll eat your pussy.”

I gawked at him. The beating had clearly knocked the last functioning brain cell straight out of his skull.

“I can’t promise it’ll be grade-A pussy eating in my current condition,” he said. “But trust me, I’ll still make you come.”

My mouth went dry, like every drop of moisture in my body sank straight between my legs.

I motioned toward him. “You were literally just beaten half to death. Your lips are the size of my fist.”

“Doesn’t mean my tongue stopped working.” He shoved his cargo pants and boxer briefs down in one motion, his half-hard cock bobbing free.

I palmed his forehead, sending him stumbling back a step. “Just get in the shower.”

“Let’s hope you never go into nursing,” he muttered.

He stepped into the shower. Deciding my job was done, I turned to leave.

Big mistake.

He grabbed my wrist and jerked me straight into the shower with him before I could pull away.

The man didn’t have the strength to clean the blood off himself but had plenty to drag me into a shower.

Warm water rained over us, soaking my pajamas. My thin tank clung to my skin as he blocked the only way out. He angled himself so most of the water fell on me instead of him.

When he reached behind me for the shampoo, his cock brushed my thigh.

Heat rushed between my legs.

Bruises covered his chest, but they did nothing to hide the hard muscle underneath. Or stop my stupid heart from racing.

“Wash my hair.” He held out the shampoo.

“Fine,” I said in pretend annoyance.

I wasn’t annoyed. I was, dare I say, comfortable.

I squeezed shampoo into my palm. “I can’t believe I’m doing this after you literally threw me off a yacht.”

He stayed quiet while I worked the shampoo through his thick hair. I massaged his scalp, telling myself it was only to loosen the dried blood.

Little by little, the tension left him until he was practically leaning into me.

“Not even going to apologize for that?” I asked, guiding him under the spray to rinse his hair.

He covered my hand with his, moving it slowly through his hair. “I don’t apologize for teaching lessons. I should actually start charging for them.”

I combed my fingers through his damp strands before tugging harshly on one.

He laughed under his breath.

“You really are a lunatic—you know that?” I started to pull away when he caught my waist.

“That’s your type, Princess.”

“Nope. Sane is my type.”