Pretty Hot (The Pretty Trilogy Book 1) (33 page)

‘Your expectation whirls around me. Relish so sweet.’ His whispered words are hot in my ear, his lips moving to my shoulder, grazing gently before the force of his teeth melt my torso against the bed. I moan and push against the heel of his hand for pressure, for more. ‘You’re a bit of a pain slut, aren’t you?’ he whispers, sounding half amused.

Right now I’m inclined to agree. I think I’d agree to anything he said just to be pushed over that edge. Articulation, however, is a step too far. And I’m wholly uncertain about my
expectations whirling
as he does something completely unexpected
.

His hand smacks the left cheek of my arse. Very hard.

‘
Ow
!’ I yelp into the comforter, verbalization returning with the impact. ‘What the fuck, Kai!’ I struggle to rise, difficult enough in my current position, impossible once he plants a palm between my shoulders, catching my thigh between his. Prickling displeasure rises to anger as I struggle against him. ‘Stop that!’

‘You belong to me.’

Smug. That’s how he sounds as he holds his hand to my stinging cheek.

I struggle to close my legs as his hand curls around me and slides between my thighs. My torso sags against the bed, turned on and confused, my body is at odds with my head again as his fingers caress the wet ribbon of flesh between my legs. I make an inarticulate protest as his hand slides away. Stroking my heated skin, it comes to rest between my shoulders as the other draws down my spine. Then he slaps me again. Hard, and on the same cheek. In truth, the sound is worse than the actual impact, but I cry out, struggling to rise.

My skin burns poker hot, my mind unable to process the sensations at all.

‘No,’ Kai murmurs, dragging his tongue wetly along my rigid spine. ‘I can almost hear your subconscious, and it lies.’

His warm lips touch my neck and something inside me resists my struggles. I pause under his touch and whispered words, relaxing into his fingers drawing circles across my back. Neither a sigh nor sob, the noises I make are raw and full of need as his fingers suddenly plunge into me, my hips surging along with them. Something warm and wet touches my cheek—his mouth and tongue are caressing and soothing my smarting skin. My body melts further, my mind in pieces and no longer in charge as I ride his hand.

Flesh strikes flesh moments later, harder this time, and I cry out, absolutely cry. My arse smarts, warming uncomfortably, my face is hot, flushed with the indignity of my position, and my heart beats like it would break free from my ribs.

‘Blood races through your veins, habibti. I see it rising through your skin. You’re on the edge, my darling, the very edge.’ His teeth close on the lobe of my ear, the burn across my behind evolving into a familiar ache. Growing. Spreading out.

‘Tell me to stop,’ he rasps. ‘Say
khallas
and I will, I swear.’

I actually hear the whoosh of his hand this time, before the impact connects with my arse.

‘No!’ I call out, my voice raw, but rousing, my mind exploding with disbelief.
This can’t be happening.
I weep tears of rage and shame as I give in to something so frighteningly seductive, something I just can’t comprehend. But through my indignity and confusion, I glow, bursting into an insidious, delectable blaze.

‘No
khallas
? Then shout out.’ He kisses my neck, pinching the skin between his teeth, like a big cat taming a cub. ‘Then I want to hear.’ His fingers continue to move within me as I whimper senselessly, writhing and moaning beneath him still.

Then his palm makes contact once more.

‘No!’ I repeat but even I can hear the change in tone. My mind deserts me. His erotic assault leaves me breathless in anticipation of his palm, each slap hardwired to my clit. My body is pushed forward, breasts hard against the bed as I begin to sob wet, hot tears against the covers.

‘Give in.’ He strikes me again, words exhaled through gritted teeth.

I hear myself moaning, crying out, my skin burning with his lack of restraint. Striking and stroking, his mouth at my ear whispers endearments and praise. And all the while my mind is a blank, vacuous place, the throb in my behind echoing that building inside, and just beyond my reach.

Slowly, I become aware of his hand loosening the scarf from my wrists. Rubbing my skin, he places my hands near my head.

At the descent of his zip, something ignites inside.

‘You did so well.’ His voice, like his breath, is hoarse as his body covers mine. Pushing the hair from my face, he rubs his fingers through the tears on my cheeks before he’s inside me. Filling me. Filling my need.

Instinctively, I push back against him, no longer shamed but numb. I’m just a thing, a thing craving this release. Delirious, I ignore my scrambled emotions, and as ever where Kai is concerned, my traitorous body responds.

I burst from heated skin as he pounds against me, his fingers hard, almost lifting my hips, skin assaulting tender skin. The incomprehension sitting at the corners of my mind vanishes as I ascend to the place where all reason is gone, where I don’t exist. Where there is only sensation and hunger and need.

‘You’re mine,’ he growls, ‘say it.’

A dark consuming ache rushes through me. I implode, explode,
something,
as a liquid, hot climax rips through my insides. Possessed, I beg for divine intervention, yell his name. Beg him to drive me harder into the bed.

I’m aware of nothing else until I’m in Kai’s arms, cradled against his chest, whimpering, tears damp against my face.

Chapter Thirty-One

Rising from the floor, Kai places me on the bed almost with reverence, pulling the comforter to my shoulders. The mattress dips as he folds himself against my back, but I curl away, foetus-like as a sudden shame fills my chest, making it hard to breathe.

How could I have allowed him to hit me? How could I have
 . . .
come
 . . .
at all?

‘How do you feel?’ His voice is soft, spent. All attitude having ebbed away.

‘You fucking
hit
me, how do you think I feel?’ I want to hurt. Lash out. Create a diversion, avoid even thinking about what I just allowed.

‘I think you’re deflecting.’ His tone is neutral, lacking accusation and the antithesis of my own.

‘Maybe I’ll smack you about then tell you you’re fine!’

‘Sweetheart, you’re lying. To us both.’ He strokes the pad of one finger along my arm, drawing my attention to the fact that I’m shaking.

Shock or the remains of my high?

I move across the bed further, unease clawing at my throat. ‘Leave me alone.’

Despite my words, dread blooms in my stomach as his weight slips from the bed. I bite my lips as something inside prevents me from calling out for him to stay. I’d say it’s self-respect but how can it be? I’m drowning in self-reproach, the manifestation of which is my burning, tender behind. Despair swells into huge, wet, hiccupping sobs as the bedroom door closes. I don’t have to try to drown out the sound.

Misery, anger, and denial swirl blood red through my head. And there’s shame, so much shame. But there’s also no denying the orgasm I experienced. I can’t, though I try.

My sobbing quietens abruptly as a realisation flits into my head. I place my hand against one cheek. The area is numb, yet at the same time incredibly sensitive. The symbiotic sensations of ice-cold and red-hot against my skin. More shocking than this realisation as I dry my tears, is the sense of satisfaction.
Sated
. I feel unburdened, somehow. Relieved.

Oh god. I’m going to hell!

Tightening my fists on the pillow, tears begin to flow once more.

As the door opens, I hold my breath. The bed shifts beneath me, the warmth and scent of Kai like cool relief at my side. He moves the comforter further over my body, laying a box of tissues next to me, his hand covering mine.

‘Are you ready to talk?’

His voice is neutral, but I shake my head and screw my eyes tight shut. I’d rather die than discuss this right now. I blow my nose indelicately and he moves closer, apparently not minding the mess. Hiccupping sobs have left me at the unattractive spasming-breath stage as I clutch a tissue to my chest.

Without thought for appearances, I peer over my shoulder as words stutter from my mouth.

‘W-w-why did you h-hit me?’

His reply, when it comes, is soft and resigned. ‘Because I was angry. Because all I could see was you and him. In a taxi. In your bed.’ He passes a hand across his head in a gesture of frustration. ‘But also because I knew you’d let me. Be into it. Damn it, Kate, do I really have to spell it out?’

Did I like it?
‘I—you—’
God
,
I don’t know
! ‘You’ve done this before? With other girls?’

‘Not being into boys, yes.’ Reluctant amusement colours his words as he studies my face. Reaching out, his finger traces the shape of my ear. ‘You like a little pain in sex.’ I open my mouth to deny this, think better of it, and close it again. ‘I took an educated gamble that you’d enjoy . . . this. Don’t look so shocked. Pain and pleasure are near neighbours for some, like trust and love.’

My heart misses a beat. Trust. How can I trust a man who just smacked my bare arse as though I were a disobedient child? How can he speak of trust? And love, is that what he means by obsession? I won’t think about.
Can’t.

‘I wouldn’t hurt you,’ he adds earnestly and completely without irony. ‘Do you still want me to leave?’

‘No,’ I answer instantly, ‘stay.’ I hate my almost pleading tone, but I want him to stay.
Want him still.

He draws closer, my spine relaxing into the warmth of him as he sighs softly against my ear.

‘Thank you,’ he whispers a moment later, his arms tightening around my waist. ‘Thank you for being mine.’

Chapter Thirty-Two

‘You let him do what?’ Niamh’s face is twisted into a mask of disgust.

Sweet mother of all fuck.

I open an eye.

Sunlight.

Bedroom.

No Niamh.

My heart still hammers even as relief floods my veins. A dream, just a dream, though a nightmare might be a more accurate description. I roll my shoulders in an attempt to relax. Then I remember.

Look who’s been sleeping in my bed.

The sheet twists low on Kai’s torso, a suggestion of hipbone peeking from the pale wrapping and highlighted by the sun. His chest lifts and falls in a steady rhythm and I find myself holding my breath, matching his. Warmth radiates through me. He’s so very beautiful. He stayed and I love—

No. Not thinking about that today.

Shifting in the bed, I roll onto my side.
Far out.
My butt stings like a mother.
A second wave of shame pounds me like a blow to the gut
. I let him hit me.
Women all over the world are being beaten and abused by men, and I let this man hurt me. For fun.

‘What’s wrong?’ The corner of his mouth quirks, eyes remaining closed in dark half-moons set against sand. One arm flung carelessly above his head, the other reaches to grab my hand. ‘Sixth sense,’ he says, barely audible through a huge yawn.

‘Wouldn’t surprise me.’

His eyes open, long lashes spiked with sleep as he rolls onto his side to face me.

‘Such sagacity, Mistress Kate. What gives?’ The warmth of his gaze catches me off guard as he places a chaste kiss against my knuckles. ‘Good morning, my beautiful girl.’

I swallow the ball of confusion, forcing it to the edges of my mind. And it’s not very difficult at this moment—I’m his beautiful girl, apparently. Plus this man’s smile would stun a nun. It’s not fair that he looks so . . . well, appetising this early. Sexy and stubbly with deliciously dishevelled hair. I just know I can’t match his mussed-up look this morning. I expect I look like chooks have nested in my hair.

‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’ His words are light, even as his brows draw together.

‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ Nothing worth repeating, anyway. And I’m not thinking about last night. Because if I don’t think about it, I don’t have to deal with it. I can think of the now, the fact that he stayed, that he looks so lovely. Sleep ruffled and sexy.

‘How terrifically mendacious,’ he drawls, assurance returning to his tone. Extending his arms outwards, he stretches, causing the muscles in his chest and lats to flex and contract.

‘M—mendacious?’ I squeak, my voice unnaturally high. ‘Where’d you dig that beauty up, some archaic dictionary? Who uses words like that?’

‘I do,’ he says as though completely
obvious. ‘You just watched my lips form the word.’ He arches a brow, eyes alight. ‘And you like my mouth, don’t you?’ I hope it’s a rhetorical question. I just about love his mouth, his biteable bottom lip, his lickable bow. ‘I’m still waiting for an answer.’

‘Fishing for compliments, more like.’

‘Always,’ he says with an incline of his head. ‘But I’d still like to know what you’re thinking.’

‘Your ego doesn’t need any help.’

‘I’m not sure whether to be insulted or gratified that you think so highly of me.’ He frowns, though runs his knuckles against his lips in an attempt to hide a smile. ‘I’m going to go with wounded. Wounded. And still waiting.’

‘Yes, all right, I like your mouth,’ I murmur resignedly, adding a small sigh and a roll of my eyes. But I don’t just like his mouth—that ridiculous touch of softness on an otherwise angular face—I’m a sucker for his freckles, too.

His lips brush against my cheek. ‘But where, I wonder, do you like my mouth?’

‘You’re really bad!’ I squeak, swatting him with my hand. The squeak turns into a tremulous sort of moan as he pulls me against him, rolling us and somehow seating me high against his hips. With our hands entwined, he flexes his fingers and surges against me.

‘Good bad or bad, bad? I can be either, it’s up to you.’ His eyes smoulder as he brings my hand to his mouth, sucking the tips of my fingers before swiftly pulling me down against his chest. ‘Shall I tell you what else I like about your mouth?’ he whispers, ‘I like where it kisses me. I like its whispered words.’ Closing his eyes, he smiles secretly before feigning a breathy tone. ‘I especially love hearing it say,
Fuck me Kai,
please
.’ I sag against him, fighting a lustful moan as he tucks his head into mine. ‘And I like my mouth full of you. Candy-flavoured mouth, sweet tasting cun—’