Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Every hair on his head fell together in unruly perfection. His cleanly shaved jaw showed off all his square angles and outrageously handsome Latino features.
Looking at him was a treacherous trap. He was too attractive, too addictive to take in all at once.
Desperate to break his spell, she focused on her feet and approached the bed. “Need help with the cuff links?”
“You’re blindingly beautiful.” A fingertip skimmed along her collarbone, teased the pocket of her throat, and dipped to follow the line of her breastbone. “I can’t think straight.”
“I could say the same thing.” She peeked at his face, and if she thought she felt pretty before, her self-appraisal didn’t hold a candle to the awe-stricken approval shimmering in his eyes.
His hand shifted to cup her breast, a possessive hold that turned wickedly mischievous as he flicked a thumb against the piercing.
Heat flashed through her, and she stepped back. “Let me see your sleeves.”
He held out the cuff links and offered his wrists. “I need to be inside you.”
“Too bad.” She attached the gold links through the buttonholes.
Despite her resolve, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at his lap.
The outline of his cock formed an impressively long, rigid bulge that lay trapped against his thigh. Harder than hard, he looked ready to tear through the tuxedo pants.
A molten fever gathered between her legs, and her nipples tightened, the unbidden reaction further stimulated by the barbells.
She needed to stop melting all over the place and focus. He hadn’t answered any of her questions about what to expect tonight. She didn’t know what she would be walking into or how to conduct herself.
“Aren’t we supposed to be there at seven?” She secured the last cuff link and sidled out of his reach.
“We’re going to be late.”
“If we leave now—”
A rough hand grabbed her arm, wrenching her into the space between his knees. “I’m going to fuck you.”
Flames swept around them, from his gaze burning into hers, his fingers trailing heat up her arm, and the fire igniting inside her.
His other hand slipped through the slit of her gown and sank between her thighs, finding her embarrassingly wet.
“Fuck.” He gripped her waist, dropped his forehead against her stomach, and twisted two fingers inside her. “Fucking drenched. Dripping for a cock.”
“We’re not doing this.” She teetered in the heels and caught his shoulder for balance. “We’re already dressed, and I’m too nervous about the dinner.”
“I’ll take the edge off.” He thrust his hand, fingering her harder, deeper, until the line between yes and no blurred, and her thighs clenched together. “Sit on my cock, Kate.”
“Stop.” Throbbing, aching, and growing wetter, her body betrayed her. “I don’t want to ruin the dress or take it off. It took me forever to make everything look just right. And you’re wearing black. The smallest stain will glow like a spotlight. Do you really want to introduce me to the President with come stains on your pants? God, I’m already sweating, and you’re making it—”
“Hey, Kate.” His fingers slipped to her inner thigh and clenched, his voice chillingly quiet. Deadly serious. “Reach into my pants, pull out my cock, and fucking sit on it.”
Her gaze dropped to the captivating curves of his bossy mouth, lingering there before lifting to his eyes, to the swirls of brown glowing in the lamplight.
A tremor erupted low and hot in her belly.
The way he looked at her, the piercing glare that cut right through those dark lashes, grabbed her deeply and completely.
She shivered with goosebumps in her heartbeat.
What was it about this man? This scary, stubborn, rude, horribly sexy man? He tied her up in knots, sometimes literally, and she wanted it.
She really did.
She fucking ached for him.
“You want me to fuck you?” she asked quietly.
“That’s what I said.”
The fact that they were discussing it instead of doing it gave her pause. Usually, he skipped the conversation and went right to stripping her clothes and working over her body.
Something had changed.
He’d apologized for raping her. Did that mean it wouldn’t happen again?
She yanked her arm out of his grip and backed away, testing his sincerity.
He remained seated, his lips twisted in frustration and anger as he tracked her retreat to the door.
When she reached the hallway, her pulse pounded, and her muscles tensed, braced for him to chase her.
But he didn’t. He slowly lowered to his back and rested an arm over his eyes, breathing heavily.
“You’re not going to force me?” She clutched the doorframe.
“I’m trying, Kate.” He adjusted the rigid length of his cock. “Go on. I’ll be out in a second.”
She stepped into the hall, squinting at him.
He would be fine. It was just an erection, and it was good for him to be denied.
Except she was denying herself.
Her need for him dripped and pulsed between her legs. What was the point in opposing something she wanted? Just to be stubborn?