The Marriage Mistake(84)
“I know. I’m about to fix it now. Upstairs.”
Goose bumps pebbled her arms. He gripped her arm and led her toward the staircase. Her feet obeyed, until they ended up in the bedroom. The bed dominated the room with an almost obnoxious air. Ignoring her thumping heart, she faced him with hands crossed in front of her chest. “Happy now? Ready to tell me your master plan now? How you’re going to fix this mess of a marriage and our screwed-up relationship in the bedroom?”
He ripped off his shirt. Carina swallowed at all those bare, ridged muscles. One, two, three, four, five, six. Yes, an actual six-pack. His stomach made Channing Tatum seem pudgy. What was she doing? What was he doing? Oh, no, she was not going to have sex with this man again. He was frikkin nuts to think she was that stupid. “I’m not having sex with you, Max. You’re delusional if you think we’re going back to the beginning.”
He toed off his shoes. “Oh, we’re having sex. Right now. I was an idiot to wait this long and not show you how I feel. We could have a nice, tidy conversation in the kitchen but you wouldn’t believe a word I said.” His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked them aside. His erection bulged from his boxers. “So we’ll do it a better way.” His gaze pinned her to the wall. “Strip.”
Carina gasped. Her body perked up, ready to play with all that naked male perfection before her, but she snapped her mind back in place. She studied him with a clinical air that screamed her a liar. “No thanks. When you’re ready to talk, let me know.”
He laughed, low and wicked. “My sweet Carina. Who would’ve thought you like to play hardball? But you do. Another reason you’re perfect for me, and my other half. I needed a woman who wouldn’t break, who’d challenge me on all levels, especially in the bedroom.” He pressed her against the wall and nipped at her earlobe. His hot breath rushed in her ear. “A woman whose soul is pure and who knows how to laugh. A woman who gets me.” His hands rested against her bodice and he played with the strappy part of her camisole. A pull here. A tug there. Carina bit back the moan of want and stiffened her resolve. If she won this round without giving in, she could walk out the door with her pride.
“I’m going to show you the only way I know how that you’re the only woman I want. You’ve built too many barriers, baby. It’s like stepping through a minefield, and I know it’s all my fault. But your body can’t lie to me. And you’ll know mine can’t, either.”
He ripped the tank and tore it down the middle.
Her breasts spilled free and he caught them with his palms, rubbing the tight crests as his lips devoured her mouth. One quick snap and her shorts and panties were off, leaving her naked in front of him. The rough play spiked her arousal so bad a trickle of wetness slid down her thigh, but she rallied and bit down on his lower lip.
He pulled away. His blue eyes darkened to a stormy gray and he deliberately twisted her nipples so a tiny bolt of pain zapped through her. Carina couldn’t stop the moan falling from her lips. “Not going to make it easy, are you?” he murmured. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”
He turned her around and caged her with his thighs. His chest pressed to her back, and he nudged his erection against her cleft. “Bastard.”
“Legs wider, please.”
“Screw you.”
He kicked her legs apart with his foot until she was open wide and vulnerable. Her cheeks flushed as she scented her own arousal. His fingers glided downward over the curve of her backside, squeezing the tender flesh. She wiggled away but he only laughed. “Does this turn you on?”
“Hell, no.”
“Liar.” His fingers dove deep and she arched. She fisted her hands and panted for control. Her cheek lay flat against the cool wall and the sheer helplessness of her position only racketed her need for more. The man claimed her heart and soul, but how had he gotten so deep into her fantasies? He played and teased until she writhed like a wild thing, ready to do anything for release. His lips nipped and licked the sensitive area of her nape and down her spine, and he rocked against her in a rhythm that drove her mad.
“I want, I need—”
“I know, sweetheart. Truth time. Tell me you belong to me. Have always belonged to me.”
“No.”
He swirled the tight bud between her legs and her knees gave out. Max held her up with one arm but never stopped the merciless circles that kept her right on the edge. “Tell me.”
A sob caught in her throat. So close . . . the orgasm shimmered before her in all its glory until her nerves shredded and her brain fried. Her hips pressed back in torment. “I hate you, Maximus Gray. I hate you.”