Page 66 of Lawless Rivals

I thrust in deep and hard, burying myself to the hilt.

She cries out, a raw sound that’s half agony, half ecstasy, her inner walls squeezing around me like she needs more but hates submitting at the same time.

“Yes…” She moans. “Fucking yes.”

Each slam of my hips is fueled by years of Harrington hatred and the desire for a woman I can’t have.

I continue to thrust in and out, fisting her soaked hair, tilting her head back to expose her throat for my teeth, the other hand sliding between her thighs to circle her clit.

“You’re so responsive,” I pant.

“And you’re... Oh God...” She gasps, her body betraying her fury with every quiver, every moan she tries to bite back.

The water hammers over us, our skin slapping together loud enough to echo off the tile. I feel her let go—her cunt clamping hard with rolling pulses, that tightness sucking my dick in and her breathless surrender almost undoes me.

I drive in deeper.

“You like that, huh?” I say, voice gravel-like. “Coming on my dick when ya shouldn’t.”

Her whole body locks, inner walls clamping around me, a moan panting out of her. Jesus fuck, the noises she makes will haunt me for weeks whether I want them to or not.

I keep the pace, not ready to follow her yet, driving in harder as I grit my teeth against the pressure building at the base of my spine.

Then she grabs my hand and presses it over her breast.

Whatever control I have left goes to shit. I slam in deep and hold there, my cock jerking as I empty into her, my forehead dropping to her shoulder while the roar tears out of me and drowns her cry.

Keira sags against the wall, and I catch her around the waist before she can slip.

I should pull away. Instead, I stay buried inside her with my chest against her back and my mouth pressed to her wet shoulder, struggling to drag air into my lungs. Her hand stays over mine, holding it against her heaving breast while her heart pounds beneath my palm.

She’s a Harrington. That’s why I brought her here, and it should be reason enough to push her away.

But only when her breathing begins to slow do I ease out of her. She turns between me and the wall, her eyes are dark and storm-heavy, stripped of every defence she’s used against me.

Her mouth is swollen, and a mark darkens her throat where my teeth found skin. She reaches up and traces my jaw with her fingertips, and for one reckless moment, I let myself lean into her touch.

Then her fingers still.

Her gaze searches mine, but whatever she’s looking for, I can’t give it to her. Her hand drops, her shoulders draw back, and her chin lifts as she shuts herself off.

I want to catch her wrist and press her palm against my chest. My fingers flex at my sides, but I don’t reach for her.

“I won’t be your dirty secret,” she whispers.

I reach past her and turn the water off, letting the silence do the work. Then I look right at her, taking everything in. Something I’ve stopped myself from doing time and time again because of who she is.

Because it doesn’t fucking matter how she gets under my skin. This can’t go anywhere.

I look away and do what I do best.

“Typical Harrington,” I say, half smiling. “Turning sex into leverage. Just like your da would.”

Her pupils flare, and she shoves both hands into my chest. I take a half-step back. Not because she’s strong enough to move me, but because it’s time for me to get my shit together.

“You got what you wanted,” she says, her voice shaking. “Now stay the hell away from me until my father signs.”

I run my hands over my jaw and sweep my hair back off my forehead.