Chapter 14

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††  Ellis  ††

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††  Ellis  ††

Punishment.

He wasn't having me bent over, sticking my ass in the air for him to...

Dark eyes dropped to my mouth, a large hand curled around the nape of my neck, holding me.

It all happened so fast.  What the fuck!?

Dude!  You're letting a man kiss you!

And I sure as fuck didn't understand it.

I should have pushed him off me. Should knocked him on his ass.

But I didn't.

I was being bombarded, at odds with myself, with overriding sensations. No one had ever kissed me like this. It was a rough, almost bruising. There was the firmness of the jaw, the rough friction of his stubble as it scraped against mine, and it felt both weirdly okay and fucked up at the same time. Then there was him controlling the kiss. Holding the back of my head and the fierce way his tongue owned mine and when he shifted closer I felt him hard beneath his pants. I was too.

And when he'd tried to pull away, I latched onto him. No matter how messed up it was, I wasn't ready for it to end... yet.

We broke apart and my gaze dropped to his lips, I realised I was still grabbing hold of him. "Shit." I let go of the material of Zack's t-shirt pretty damn quick.

Dropping my hands to my side, fisting them. I felt heat across my chest, radiating down my arms. I could feel it on my skin. I always got this rash when I was upset, all red and prickly like hives. My sister used to say it was because I was allergic to emotion.

Zack mumbled something, but I wasn't listening. My head was trying to catch up, process what my brain was dealing with. It was a fucked up mess of contradictions and every thought tangled with the next kicking it into a fight-or-flight response.

Zack's quick movements took aback me, with his head whipping around. I angled my body away from him to catch my breath. He cursed out and then sighed out loudly.

This was gonna be so fucking awkward now.

"Is there a reason you're not looking at me, Ellis?" Zack put his hand on my shoulder, turning me fully, giving me no choice but to meet his eyes. Eyes that looked much darker than moments ago, almost black now. Eyes that apparently never missed a thing but seemed to hide so much.

I shrugged and glanced down at his arms. The man was freakin' tight. Not bulging with muscles, more so carved with sharp definition.

And why the fuck did I keep noticing these things about him?

Honestly, since arriving in London, I didn't know what the hell was going on with me.

Was there something in the London air?

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