Pleasure Payback. Zara Cox

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Pleasure Payback - Zara Cox Mills & Boon Dare

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hope you’re not overly sensitive. Because I don’t think I can wait to fuck you.’

      He reached for his trousers, pulled out a condom and tugged it on. ‘On your knees,’ he growled.

      I rolled over and surged up onto my hands and knees, dragged my hair over one shoulder so I could watch him position himself behind me. ‘Hurry.’

      A smile twisted his mouth as his eyes met mine. ‘Is that gorgeous pussy hot for me?’

      ‘Yes. I need you.’

      The smile dropped from his mouth, followed by his gaze a second later. The inkling that I’d just committed a faux pas rushed out of my head the instant Damian surged hard and deep inside me.

      I screamed, my fingers digging into the carpet as searing pleasure shot up my spine. Firm, almost cruel hands dug into my waist and held me still as he withdrew and plunged deep inside again. As anticipated, Damian was thick enough to fill me almost to the point of pain despite my slickness. That added bite dragged another scream from me as he slammed in from behind, setting a pace that made my back arch in bliss.

      ‘God, yes! Just like that,’ I moaned.

      One hand moulded my butt, trailed up my spine to rest between my shoulders. He pushed my torso down to the carpet, and I screamed all over again as the angle seated his cock deeper inside me. Pure instinct had me dragging my legs wider apart, and with one last thrust, I started to unravel.

      Clever fingers tormented my clit as the first wave hit me, prolonging my release until my body was trapped in relentless convulsions. Just when I thought I’d crawl out of my own skin with the savagery of my climax, Damian roared with his own release, then stilled inside me.

      We collapsed onto the carpet, for the longest time saying nothing as we caught our breaths.

      Then a smile I couldn’t stop creased my face.

      ‘I knew I liked your hotel.’

      He chuckled, a deep but rough sound. As if he hadn’t laughed for a while. From our curious exchange tonight, I guessed he probably hadn’t. ‘Just like?’

      ‘Fine, I really like it.’

      His eyes gleamed. ‘Which part do you like the most?’

      ‘I have to choose?’

      He wrapped a hand around my waist. ‘Let’s start with this room.’

      ‘Everything. The lamps. The view. The bed.’

      ‘Hmm. We haven’t made it to the bed yet. What especially do you like about it?’

      ‘It’s sturdy. It could pass for an antique even though I know it’s not. It gives the guest a feeling like they’re sleeping in a bed fit for a king or queen. Or a naughty courtesan sneaking in for a tryst.’

      He stiffened slightly. ‘Is that what turns you on, Neve? Illicit assignations with strangers you meet in bars?’

      My breath caught on a dart of hurt. ‘If you’re trying to be offensive, don’t waste your time. I’ve never done anything like this before but I don’t regret it.’

      I read his scepticism loud and clear. Told myself I didn’t care.

      I knew my truth but couldn’t help adding, ‘There’s nothing wrong with that if all parties are free and consenting adults.’

      He inhaled slowly, his gaze turning turbulent. I sensed his withdrawal even though his arm tightened around me. ‘And what would you have me do in this tryst of yours?’

      I draped my arms around his neck. ‘I’d like to move to the bed, test my theory for real.’

      ‘As you wish.’ His concession held a definite bite.

      Perhaps I should’ve called a halt to things then. But Damian Mortimer was kissing me as he carried me across the floor. Potent kisses I wanted to enjoy just for a few more hours. We were consenting adults after all.

      So why fight it?

      Damian

      I tried.

      Fought to resist her.

      When I couldn’t, I wanted to punish her for reminding me of everything I wanted to forget. For tempting me enough to break the rigid rules I’d ring-fenced my life with for twelve long months. Most of all, I wanted to punish her for unwittingly re-enacting that sordid little scene downstairs.

      The one that reminded me of the worst moment of my life.

      That reminded me of why I was here on the wrong side of the pond when I yearned to be back in London, in the place I thrived and loved the most.

      The part of me that knew it was irrational to take things out on this woman whose brazenness shouldn’t have been a turn-on—and yet had touched parts of me I’d thought were withered and dead—winced. But hell, I was drowning beneath the bitterness and vitriol festering inside me.

      And she...

      I tossed her on the bed, watched the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long time beckon me with a come-hither smile.

      She was irresistible. Just enough for my needs. Because after that phone call, after hearing the anger and bitterness and disappointment, I’d wanted to dive into a bottle of whiskey. I’d wanted to forget that I’d betrayed the one person closest to me.

      Gideon Mortimer.

      My flesh and blood. But more than that, my best friend.

      But even that avenue was now closed to me.

      A casual drink at a bar was what had started my descent into hell.

      But Neve Nolan wasn’t off limits. She was wide open and willing, a tangible port in a black sea of despondency and frustration.

      I intended to take with no regrets.

      Just for tonight, I would break my own rules. And if regret came in the morning, I’d toss that too into the seething abyss that was my life.

       CHAPTER TWO

      Neve. Two years later...

      DESPISE. LOATHE. ABHOR.

      Nope, none of them quite fit.

       I hate Damian Mortimer.

      There. That was better. I’ve hated him with every single breath I’ve taken for the last two years. Since he took my offer of relief and turned it completely against me. Since he crippled my business and trashed eighteen months of back-breaking work and sacrifice with nothing more than a few gruffly muttered words to Malcolm Cahill.

      This

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