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“Do you want me?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” she whispered immediately, her hips still moving insistently on his thigh.

“Say it,” he demanded.

Again, she didn’t hesitate. “I want you.”

He was ruthless, for some reason needing it, he pushed, “Say it with my name.”

She kept grinding against his thigh, arching her back to press her breast into his hand, seeking his mouth with her lips. “I want you, Prentice.”

“Call me Pren,” he ordered.

She tugged her hair free enough to get her mouth on him but he avoided it and her lips hit is neck, her nails scraped along his back and his cocked jerked in response.

He knew he couldn’t take much more of this. It had been a long fucking time and she was magnificent.

She didn’t make him wait.

“I want you, Pren,” she whispered against his neck then he felt her tongue there.

His finger and thumb closed on her nipple, she moaned with pleasure, the sound rent right through him and her teeth nipped his neck. His hand left her hair and slid down her back, around her waist to her belly and down to cup her over her underwear.

He felt her wetness.

She was drenched.

She couldn’t force that. That wasn’t a game.

That was all Elle.

His Elle.

He made her that wet.

Yes, she fucking wanted him.

The feel of her arousal nearly made him come.

Then she pressed herself into his hand and he was done.

Hooking her underwear with his thumbs, he tore it down her legs. She stepped out of it while he held her to the wall with a hand in her belly and his other hand went to his zip. He freed his swollen, aching cock and then he grasped her hips.

She helped, giving a soft hop, she jumped up, opening her legs for him as he positioned between them, her sweet, soft ass and the weight of her settling into his hands.

Fucking magnificent.

He drove into her.

Wet, slick and tight.

And unbelievably beautiful.

She cried out, her legs wrapping around his hips and her arms holding tight around his shoulders as he thrust into her, hard, deep, violent and not in his control.

She tilted her hips and met his thrusts, her mouth back to seeking his, one of her hands in his hair trying to guide his head to hers.

He resisted, watching her efforts, getting off on her need for that connection, the pleasure he could see, even in the moonlight, making her beautiful face stunning.

He was going to come, he was ready, and they’d barely started.

He was never going to last until she climaxed.

“It’s never… not ever,” she moaned, her voice rough but it still sounded like silk. “Pren, it’s never been this good.”

Then her neck arched and her body bucked uncontrollably in his hands so forcefully he nearly lost hold. Prentice watched her come, her sex clenching and releasing, rippling wildly against his driving cock.

The glorious sight and incredible feel of it sent him over the edge; he slammed into her one last time and joined her.

She was right.

It had never been this good.

Not ever.

Phenomenal.

When he finished, his face buried in her neck, his breath heavy against her skin, he flexed his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass and ground his hips into hers.

In response, her arm around his shoulders tensed, the fingers in his hair drifted and she trembled.

The feel of her body wrapped around him, her ass in his hands, her still gently convulsing wetness tight around his cock, the scent of her, her lips against his neck, Prentice regretted the fact that the kids were only gone for one night. He disliked the fact he was best man to Dougal and she was maid of honor to Annie at a wedding to be held the next day.

Instead, he wanted what they just had, again and again, until he’d had his fill.

Which would take weeks.

Maybe months.

Probably a lifetime.

He felt her body grow tight against his and her mouth came away from his neck.

“Prentice, put me down,” she demanded, her voice suddenly cold.

At the sound, his head came up and he looked at her. Her face was as cold as her voice.

Oh fuck. What could possibly be going through that head of hers now?

“Put me down,” she repeated.

“Elle –” he began.

Her hands shoved at his shoulders angrily.

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed. “Put me down. Now.”

He was confused. He was also on guard.

What on earth could make her upset after that?

“Are you angry?” he asked.

She opened her mouth, closed it then opened it again to speak. “Are you serious?

“Elle –”

“I said, don’t call me that!” She shoved again.

His guard came down and his temper started rising. “What the fuck’s the matter?”

“What the… what… what’s the matter?” she stuttered, giving him another shove.

“Aye, what’s the matter?” he repeated, pressing her into the wall and not letting go.

Her eyes leveled on his and she said in a voice that dripped icicles, “You just fucked me against the wall like a common whore.”

No, his temper wasn’t rising.

It had exploded.

Even so, his voice was low, even and rumbling when he asked, “How in the fuck do you figure that?”

Her body jerked, she glared at him then he watched something dawn on her, her face going slack before she winced.

“This is punishment,” she whispered.

He was back to confused.

But he was also still furious.

“Punishment?”

“I don’t deserve this,” she said softly.

He was losing patience, not that there was much to lose.

“Elle,” he clipped, “explain.”

She went back to her earlier theme. “Put me down.”

“No.”

“Put me down!” she cried.

“No!” he shouted.

“I can’t believe this of you. Not you,” she snapped then her voice dipped quiet, even hoarse, as if she was fighting tears. “Not you.”

Something was happening and the situation, out of his control and degenerating quickly (as… fucking… usual with Elle), was hitting the danger zone.

“Explain Elle.”

She shook her head and pressed against his shoulders.

He pressed her deeper into the wall, so much deeper, he heard the breath escape her lungs.

“Now, Elle. Explain how the fuck you can twist what just happened into something bad.”

She stared at him and he could swear he saw wetness trembling at the bottoms of her eyes.

“You treated me like a whore, to punish me for what I did. I can’t believe you’d do that,” she whispered.

Christ, what was the matter with her? Was she mad?

“I didn’t do it,” he bit out.

“Yes you did.”

“How could you think that?” he clipped.

He could barely hear her when she finally explained, “You didn’t kiss me.”

But he heard her.

And his body went solid.

For a second.

Then he relaxed, buried his face in her neck and burst out laughing.

He felt her stiffen again in his arms.

“This isn’t funny,” she whispered.

He lifted his head then he pulled her away from the wall. Then he walked with her in his arms to the bed.

“Prentice –”

His mouth came to hers. “Baby, I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to watch you come and I can’t do that when I’m kissing you.”

He heard her sharp inhalation of breath and her fingers curled into his shoulders.

They reached the bed and without hesitation he took them down, him on top.