Hottest Mess (S.I.N. #2)

“How were you bad?”


“Because of what I did. Hanging up on Dad, and—”

“No.” He cupped the back of her head. “Open your eyes. Look at me. No,” he repeated when she complied, then watched as the relief flooded through her when she realized that he meant it. “Why?” he repeated, this time more gently.

Her teeth dragged over her lower lip as she considered the question. And then he saw the moment she knew the answer. “Because you didn’t like me dancing with another man.”

“I damn sure didn’t,” he said, fisting her hair and tugging her head back, leaving her neck exposed to his mouth. He shoved her thong to the side and thrust two fingers inside her, so that he was holding her in place by the pressure on her hair and her pussy. He knew it was awkward. He knew she felt unbalanced; hell, she was. With her hands still above her head and her weight shifted, if he let go she’d tumble to the ground.

Which was exactly what he wanted—for her to be completely in his control. “You’re mine,” he whispered, then trailed kisses along her exposed throat, alternating soft busses that made her moan with sharp bites. “Mine,” he repeated. “Hell, I just paid a few billion dollars for you.” He didn’t mention that by the same argument, she’d paid a few billion for him. They both knew that he belonged to her as fully and completely as she did to him. But right now, he was the one in charge.

“Tell me I’m right,” he demanded. “Tell me I own you.”

“You’re right. You own me. I’m yours.”

The words rolled through him, filling him. Hell yes, she was. “What does that mean?”

“Only you. Whenever. However. Anytime. Anywhere.”

“Does that frighten you?”

She shook her head as much as she could, fighting against his tight grip.

“Does it excite you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.” The word was ragged. Raw. “God, Dallas, I want you.”

“You have me, baby.”

He released her hair, then steadied her before cocking his head to indicate the couch. “Bend over it,” he said. “Hands on the cushions. Chest on the back. I want your ass in the air.”

She met his eyes, and he saw desire as thick as his own. “Yes, sir.”

Her easy compliance just about did him in, and he felt his cock throbbing with need. Dammit, he was going to fuck her. He had to fuck her. To claim her. To prove to both of them that they were together. Completely. Wholly.

He moved behind her, then held on to her hair with one hand, his other on her hip. She still wore the tiny thong panties, and he considered just ripping them off her, but there was something so enticing about taking her with them on. About urging her legs apart, shoving the damn panties to the side, and thrusting his cock inside her just like he wanted to do. Just like he was doing now.

And he was.

He was hard and he was inside her, and her back was arched as she moaned with the pleasure of being filled by him. Oh, fuck. Oh, yes.

He grabbed her hips, certain that this wouldn’t last, but damn sure hoping he was wrong. He held her, then pounded roughly into her, faster, deeper, wilder.

She moaned, crying out his name. Begging him to fuck her harder. And damned if he didn’t do just that. She was his—his—and he was inside her. Owning her. Taking what he wanted. What he needed.

He reached forward with one hand, holding her around the throat, making her submission complete. With his other, he reached beneath her, finding her clit and teasing it as he thrust harder and harder, then felt his balls tighten with the familiar sensation that led to an explosion.

And oh, holy shit, he was actually going to come inside her. For the first time in seventeen fucking years, he was going to come inside the woman he loved.

“Jane,” he cried as his body shattered. He fell over her, his chest to her back, as his fingers continued to stroke her.

“Oh, god, Dallas,” she cried as he still trembled against her. “Dallas,” she repeated as he pulled out, then turned her around so that he could draw her to him, embracing her, holding her, loving her.

Tears ran down her cheeks, and she started to say his name again, but he cut her off, silencing her with a kiss, his mouth taking her as wildly and eagerly as his cock had.

He’d claimed her.

He had no idea if he’d be able to manage every time. If he was cured, or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. But as he lifted her into his arms and headed for the bedroom, he realized he didn’t care.

Right now, this was enough. Right now, they had everything, because they had each other.

Yes, they still had to face the judgment of the world. And, yes, there were still lingering secrets between them. Dallas knew damn well he was playing with fire by not telling her his worries about Colin. But despite all of that, he felt closer to her now than he ever had. They were together. They were whole.