ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (50 page)

BOOK: ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE)
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And he descended.

 
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 21

 

Trent

 

 

 

I tossed Angel’s palms
against the wall, grasping hungrily at her miniskirt.

 

“I need to get inside you,”
I grunted hungrily into her ear.

 

Angel opened her mouth, but
I quickly clamped my hand around her lips. With my partner instantly muffled, I
felt her tongue along the backs of my fingers, only heightening my arousal.

 

My spare hand immediately
unzipped my jeans, unsheathing the blazing, hard weapon between my legs. I
deftly tugged at her panties, pulling them down her thighs just enough to give
myself purchase into her smoldering, dripping pussy.

 

I wanted her.

 

Dominated.

 

Taken.

 

Mine.

 

First, I tore a condom free
from its packaging in my teeth, sheathing my weapon.

 

I reached up with my free
hand, clamping it lightly around her throat as I held her pinned between the
wall and myself. Meanwhile, my cock strained hard between her legs, sliding
against her outer lips.

 

She craved my cock.

 

Needed me inside her.

 

Good.

 

I gave her throat another
squeeze before reaching down to grasp my tool firmly, stroking it along her
lips. She groaned into my palm, cupped over her lips, and arched her back
against me.

 

It was true that I wanted to
tease her more.

 

But I couldn’t hold on any
longer.

 

I
had
to feel her clench around me.

 

So I drove my cock deep
inside in one hard thrust.

 

Instantly, her warm, wet
folds enveloped my thick, bursting cock. I practically let myself go right
there and then. It was a miracle I was able to hold it together.

 

A long, emanating moan drew
out from her lungs, and she started to bounce her hips onto my tool. I held her
back, pinned against the wall, with one hand still around her mouth and the
other grasping a fistful of her hair.

 

Not
yet,
I smiled wickedly.

 

I’M
in control.

 

Steadying myself slightly, I
began to slam my hips into hers, gripping her hair like a rein. It took some
effort to keep in position with both hands around her head, but I knew that she
was enjoying this tremendously.

 

Her palms were still steady
against the wall, absorbing the momentum of my thrusts – keeping her from
slamming her face against the surface like a headboard.

 

I relinquished my grip on
her mouth, instead digging my fingertips around her waist as I gripped her ass.

 

That sexy little miniskirt
was hot, the ruffles bouncing with the intensity of our fucking. Of course,
this would have been
way
easier if
I’d ripped her clothes off of her and dropped my own, but I couldn’t control
the spontaneity of it.

 

And I knew she was digging it,
too.

 

My hands grasped her breasts
fully as our hips continued to grind against one another, my cock burrowing
deep into her sopping pussy. I let my fingers stroke her nipples, clenching
them together to catch the small, puckering peaks and tug them up.

 

I knew that my weapon was
coated in her sweet nectar by now, and as much as I wanted to force her to her
knees and lick it completely clean…I had other plans.

 

My hands migrated. I let one
drift around her neck again while the other headed south, rubbing circles
around her clit.

 

She moaned with intensity
again – I knew that a powerful orgasm was on the horizon if I kept this up.

 

“We don’t have much time,”
she whispered.

 

“Hurry up, then,” I declared
lustfully.

 

“What?”

 

“I said, ‘Come for me,
Angel,’” I murmured into her ear. “Let yourself go on my cock.”

 

I could feel her begin to
seize up, almost as if her body were simply waiting for my command. She went
rigid, her arms stiffening against the wall as she did what I demanded.

 

What helped with that was
that I picked up the pace. As soon as I realized she was close, I began jacking
up the tempo, thrusting deep and powerfully into her.

 

As her pussy clamped down
onto my erect tool, I felt her milk me dry. My orgasm rocketed into her,
spurting several thick, hot ropes of my burning gift into her channel.

 

Or at least the rubber
lining between us.

 

With deep, thirsty pants, I
collapsed against her and the wall. Careful not to crush her, I steadied myself
on either side, gulping down air.

 

“I don’t think I could ever
get used to that,” she murmured.

 

“Good. Because we’re doing
it again.”

 

“I…wait, what?”

 

“You heard me,” I told her,
pushing her down over the bed and dragging her onto all fours. Removing and
tying the condom, I set it aside and replaced it with a fresh one.

 

“We’re going to be exhausted
enough as it is…”

 

“Spread ‘em,” I commanded
impatiently.

 

A sexy smile crossed her
face as she pushed her ankles further apart, and I pushed myself down into her
wet, dripping chasm again…

 

After another amazing round
of sex, we were curled up together in bed with spoonfuls of ice cream from the
freezer – pretty much the only thing I had in the house. I’d turned the bedroom
big-screen on, and some inane reality show was droning with the volume down.

 

Angel looked like she was on
the verge of asking something, but holding back. I was about to directly ask
her when she finally opened her mouth.

 

“Did you mean what you said,
earlier?” She finally whispered.

 

 
I took another lick of my spoon.

 

“About what?”

 

“About staying here
forever…being yours.”

 

“Of course I did,” I told
her without skipping a beat. “I don’t say shit like that unless I mean it. You
should learn to take me more seriously.”

 

“But we haven’t really known
each other more than a couple of weeks…how can you possibly be sure?”

 

“Don’t be so critical,” I
told her. “Trust me.”

 

Something seemed to dawn on
her.

 

“You…you’re just going with
this, aren’t you?” She asked, sitting up straight. “Just going with the flow?
Do you
actually
care?”

 

“Of course I care,” I told
her testily. “You’re mine. We established this. You belong to
me.
So I care about you and your
well-being.”

 

She seemed uneasy.

 

“What is it?” I sighed.

 

“I get it now,” she bitterly
replied, climbing out of the bed. “This is just your life, isn’t it?”

 

“I don’t have any idea what
you’re talking about,” I replied grumpily.

 

She was getting upset.

 

Why?

 

Haven’t
I given her everything she wanted?

 

“What happens when you get
bored of me, Trent?” She demanded to know, placing her bowl of half-finished
ice cream on the end table. “What happens then?”

 

I rolled my eyes.

 

“I’m not
going
to get bored with you.”

 

“You can’t know that for
sure.”

 

“Drop it,” I demanded.

 

“I
can’t
drop it. I need to know.”

 

“Fine. You want it this
way?” I ascended from the bed, rising up as a naked, angry stack of muscles and
mounting irritation. “Kick the hornet’s nest, then. If you’re going to try and
rile me up like this, then maybe I
will
get
bored of you. This is where I come to relax between tours, or studio sessions,
or practice jams. I’m tired. I don’t exactly need you fucking this all up for
me.”

 

Angel bit back tears and
grabbed her clothes, throwing on her shirt and panties before rushing from the
room.

 


Don’t you run from me,
” I growled after her, but it was too late.

 

Fuck.
Why?

 

What
was the point of THAT?

 

Angrily, I threw my bedroom
TV remote across the room. It broke apart against the wall, clattering
uselessly to the floor as the batteries bounced away.

 

I glared at the television
screen.

 

Two middle-aged bitches were
fighting, and it kept cutting away to the overacted, stunned faces of a few
people nearby – probably family members or friends.

 

There
isn’t even anything decent on.

 

My ears pricked. I could hear
a slight shuffle of her at the bottom of the stairs, and then silence permeated
the house.

 

She’ll
be back,
I told myself angrily.

 

An hour passed without her
return, and I decided to swallow my pride and walk back downstairs. As I
descended the landing and flicked on a tableside lamp, I spotted Angel – curled
up alone on the couch.

 

The size of my sectional
only seemed to make her look even smaller, and for the first time since our
argument I felt a pang of remorse.

 

“What are you doing down
here?” I asked her.

 

“Leave me alone.”

 

I gazed towards the
staircase. Up there was nothing but a wasted night without her company.

 

“Yeah…that’s not going to
happen.”

 

Her shoulders bounced
slightly, and as I approached her, she turned away.

 

I realized then that she had
been crying.

 

“What
was
all of that, upstairs?” I asked her. “Where did
any
of that come from?”

 

Angel sniffled, still facing
into the couch. She murmured something, but her positioning muffled the
response.

 

“You’re going to have to try
and run that one past me again,” I informed her. “Perhaps this time, you could
face me. It would certainly help with the hearing.”

 

Angel reluctantly switched
positions, rolling over to face me.

 

“I said, ‘You’re going to
get rid of me.’”

 

I was almost furious.

 

Livid
,
that she would dare question me.

 

That she’d question my
trust, my judgment.

 

But I could see Angel
clearly, in that moment.

 

She wasn’t an insolent brat,
begging for attention or throwing some sort of bullshit pity party.

 

She was
scared
.

 

“You don’t understand what
this does to someone like me,” she clarified, studying my face as I relaxed.
“You just swooped into my life and pulled me away from everything I hated. I
never thought I’d really get out of there, away from that shithole town in the
middle of nowhere…but then
you
came
along.”

 

“You’re afraid,” I observed
gently. “You’re scared that this will end, and you’ll wake up in that little
room behind the bar.”

 

“This can’t be real, none of
this,” she whimpered. “I can’t let myself believe it for a minute. When I do –
when I give myself into it – it’s all going to leave me.”

 

“Angel,” I whispered
tenderly.

 

“No,” she insisted, sitting
up on the couch and rubbing her eyes. “You’ll get bored of me, or you’ll die,
or something else will happen, and then I’ll have to go back to that horrible
place…”

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