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Pervade London

Page 153

by Vanessa Fewings

Surprise flashed across his face. “Why must you be so beguiling?”

“Why must you be so dominating?”

“This is nothing compared to what I want to do to you.”

I let out a provocative moan.

He stared down at me. “Owning you is a privilege I accept.”

I felt the wetness between my thighs and shuddered at the promise of pleasure.

“Show me how to make you happy,” I whispered.

His eyelids squeezed shut as he pressed his hips against mine. Then he drew his cock along my wet folds and ground his pelvis in a circle.

“Yes,” I said. “I need this.”

“You know what I want?”

“Tell me.”I’ll give you anything.

His expression showed he was mulling over a decision. “Coffee.”

James climbed off the bed.

The loss of his weight and warmth felt shocking.

I stared after him as he strolled across the room and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Dark roast,” he called through the bathroom door. “Go make it, please.”

I heard the sound of the shower coming on, and then water splashing.

Sliding out of bed, I shivered as the chilly air hit my naked body. Moving silently across the room, I paused to pick up my discarded towel as I headed for the bedroom door.

And then I remembered the gun.

The gun felt heavy in my palm.

Turning it, I wrapped my fingers around the grip and raised it to peer through the sight. I wondered if he used a silencer.

James Ballad was above the law. That much was true.

But he was also just a man. A man who’d had his life torn apart when his wife was murdered. A man who had dedicated himself to making the world a better place—in his mind, anyway.

And God,he was devastatingly alluring.

Here he was in this small house—small by his standards—in Primrose Hill, a man whose authority reached the upper echelons of our government. A man who kept a weapon beneath his pillow.

I wondered if Xavier knew about it.

Examining the hard metal, I ran a finger along the barrel. It was beautiful and deadly at the same time…so very Ballad.

James called through the closed door. “Put the gun back were you found it, Emily.”

I shoved it beneath the pillow.

“No sugar in my coffee,” he added. “I like it strong.”