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His answer, though affirmative, was hardly reassuring. As he stared down at her, holding her against the sheetrock, there seemed to be an accusatory look of barely-concealed restraint on his features that was saying his emotions, his actions, were her fault.
The lines of brooding hunger on his face were sending wary waves of heat through her system. Her stomach was flipping wildly with excitement, but she didn’t know if it was because of the almost feral hold of primal intent that he held her captured with, or in spite of it.
His eyes holding hers with a molten look of ownership, his fingers threaded through hers as he continued to hold her hand against the wall. With his other hand still claiming the naked heat between her thighs, his fingers caressed with an inexorable determination that was fast making her lose her sanity.
Her eyelids began to drop.
“No,” he stated unequivocally.
Her eyes widened and stayed glued to his as a wave of heat made her push against the fingers that were teasing her. “No?”
He shook his head. “Want to see it when you come.”
“Garrett-”
“What?”
She was barely able to hold his gaze. “I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes slipping closed.
A dark frown descended on his features. “Why not?”
“It’s too—”
“Too what?” he bit out harshly.
“Too intimate.”
A slow, heated noise of reprisal came from his lips. He released her from his hold, but he continued to pin her in place against the wall with his torso, giving her no chance to maneuver away from him, as if he were readying himself to take some sort of twisted masculine revenge. Her eyes opened only a fraction before widening at his abrupt actions.
With a one-track, ruthless intent, he pulled his boots and socks off within seconds flat and made quick work of the fastening on his pants. Without any hesitation at all, he pushed his jeans and underwear down and off, pulling a plastic square from the pocket before tossing the garments aside. All the while, he held her plastered against the wall with a male dominance that left her little room to form a cohesive thought. He released her momentarily, stepping away from her to take his cock in his hand, his fist enclosing his length and stroking, causing a bead of pre-cum to seep from his slit. Even as he rolled the condom on his engorged length, he kept his eyes on her, undoubtedly knowing she was helpless to do anything but watch his movements, and probably knowing from her restless movements that the sight of his cock was arousing her.
With an impatient, jerky motion, he ripped open and discarded his shirt, then put his hands on either side of her blouse and tore it open. The sibilant hiss of material giving and the sound of buttons popping froze her in place, and a wicked shimmy of wanton heat slammed through her bloodstream. He held her eyes as he slowly, deliberately pulled her shirt off, and unzipped her skirt and allowed it to fall to her feet, leaving her naked but for her bra.
Feeling almost as if she were having a sexual dream, or an out-of-body experience, Maria’s heart beat loudly in her ears as Garrett pulled the cups of her bra down, forcing her breasts to pop out over the top, all the while staring into her eyes as he did it.
A hot, sexual moment passed between them before, slowly, his eyes dropped to her chest. His cheekbones became tinged with red, his expression showing a sudden strain. His lips molded into a satanic twist and his nostrils flared.
With a strength that astounded her, he lifted her at the butt and picked her up, putting her back against the wall and maneuvering her legs around his waist. In seconds, Maria felt his erection, hot and hard against her opening.
He lifted her chin, so his eyes caught and held hers again as he began pushing inside with an unrelenting force. Maria sucked in a breath and swallowed, her eyes on his as he thrust inside. The look on his face screamed satisfaction, and in some dark corner of her mind, realization dawned that it wasn’t only a sexual satisfaction he was feeling.
His erection was large and pulsing, wide and hard as he stretched her feminine flesh. Her breath hitched as he came to a halt and she knew he’d accomplished his goal; he was fully seated within her.
He bent his head and bit her bottom lip, and then lifted his face once again, penetrating her with his stare. His mouth tightening into lines of strain, he pulled out and then plunged in again with a force that dragged a startled cry from her lips, even as her body softened for him. Suddenly, he hissed out, “I’m looking and I’m having.”
Abruptly, his words pierced through the haze of desire she was feeling and she felt a flare of temper. “What?” She pushed her hands against his chest and tried to rear back, not quite believing he was throwing her words back at her. Her words that had been spoken in Spanish. The son-of-a-bitch spoke Spanish? “What did you say?” she asked again, letting her nails grip his unyielding flesh.
