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 ON THIN ICE Sneak Peek

“Take off your fucking clothes,” Bell ordered, his voice low and menacing.

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think to question him. I rose just enough to strip my shirt over my head, then pushed my sweats down and kicked them away. I knelt before him again, completely naked and vulnerable in a way that went beyond my lack of clothing.

He looked at me for a long, excruciating moment, his eyes traveling slowly over my body. “Get on the bed,” he said finally. “On your back.”

I climbed onto the mattress, my heart hammering against my ribs as he stood and pulled his shirt off. The hard planes of his chest and abs were tight with tension, his body coiled like he was about to strike. When he pushed his shorts down, his cock sprang free, already hard and flushed dark. My mouth went dry at the sight.

He followed me onto the bed but stayed just out of reach, his expression unreadable. “Tell me what you thought about while you were in the shower,” he demanded.

“You,” I admitted without hesitation. “Just you. How I fucked everything up. How I’d do anything to fix it.”

He moved closer then, straddling my thighs but still keeping a careful distance between our bodies.

“And if I told you I was done with you?” he asked, each word deliberately cruel. “If I said this was it?”

The panic that gripped me was immediate and visceral. “I’d beg you to stay,” I whispered. “I’d get down on my fucking knees and beg until you believed me. I’d do whatever it took to prove to you that I’m worth taking a chance on.”

His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t name and then he leaned down and kissed me. But it wasn’t the type of soft, lingering kisses we often shared. This was pure dominance, teeth scraping against my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, his tongue pushing into my mouth without asking for permission.

I surrendered completely, letting him take whatever he needed.

When he pulled back, his breathing was hard and erratic. “I’m still fucking furious with you,” he growled. “You made me go to places in my head tonight I vowed never to go again.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice hard with determination. “Do you understand me?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

“Say it, Ethan.”

“I’m yours,” I managed, the words sounding like a vow I’d been afraid to make until now.

His eyes softened just a fraction before he reached for the lube on the nightstand. But instead of prepping me as I expected him to, he pressed the bottle into my hand. “Show me,” he ordered. “Show me how much you want my cock. How much you need me.”

Understanding flooded through me, hot and dizzying. With shaking hands, I uncapped the bottle and slicked my fingers. Bell moved back, giving me room to reach between my legs. I held his gaze as I pushed the first finger inside myself, refusing to look away even as heat flooded my face. Letting him see me like this—vulnerable, wanting, desperate—was its own kind of penance.

He watched with hungry eyes as I worked myself open, adding a second finger, then a third, my breathing turning ragged.

“Please,” I begged. “Bell, please. Remind me who I belong to.” I opened my legs wide in invitation, but instead, Bell gripped my hips and flipped me over roughly, manhandling me until I was on my hands and knees before him.

“This is how you need it, isn’t it?” he growled, one hand sliding up my spine to push between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest down to the mattress. “Hard and fast. Leaving marks on your skin. Punishing you for making me cry.”

“Yes,” I gasped, because it was true. And he knew it, because he knew me. “Hurt me like I hurt you. It’s what I deserve.”

When he finally pushed into me, the stretch was almost too much, a burning fullness that bordered on pain. But I welcomed it, rocked back into it, desperate to feel him as deeply as possible.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. “You feel so good, E. So fucking tight.”

He didn’t give me time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that had me clutching at the sheets, gasping with each deep thrust. This wasn’t gentle lovemaking—this was Bell claiming me, marking me as his in the most primal way possible.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded again, his voice strained.

“You,” I gasped, the word punched out of me on his next thrust. “Only you. Always you.”

He leaned down, his chest pressing against my back, his mouth hot against my ear. “Say my name, Ethan.”

“Bell,” I moaned, my body tightening around him. “God, Bell, I need you.”

He thrust into me hard and then stilled.

“Bell,” I sobbed.

He pulled out and slammed back in.

“Bell.”

His hips surged forward again.

“Bell. I need you. I need you. I need you.”

His rhythm faltered for just a moment before he drove into me harder, deeper.

“Again,” he commanded.

“I need you,” I repeated, the words spilling from me now, unstoppable. “I’m so sorry. Oh god, I need you.”

He reached around, wrapping his hand around my dick, stroking me in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pushing me rapidly toward the edge.

“Give me your cum,” he growled. “Let me feel your ass milking my cock.”

I came with his name on my lips, my body clenching around him as pleasure ripped through me with an intensity that left me breathless.

Bell followed only moments later, burying himself deep inside me with a broken groan that might have been my name.

After, as we lay tangled together, both of us breathing hard, he didn’t immediately pull me close like he usually did. Instead, he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with guarded eyes.

“This doesn’t fix everything,” he said quietly.

I nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “I know.”

“I need to know you won’t bail on me again,” he continued. “That when things get hard—and they will get hard, Ethan—that you’ll stay. That you’ll fight for us.”

“I will,” I promised. “I swear to you, I won’t run again.”

He studied me for a long moment. “I want to believe that. Believe you.”