“I’ve never felt weak until you,” he says coarsely, tone frayed with restraint. “That alone is maddening. The constant want, the relentless craving.”
His hand moves higher, sliding the towel up my thighs, exposing me inch by torturous inch. And this time, I don’t resist as I link my bandaged wrists around his neck.
His hand travels up my back, fingers threading into my damp hair. Restraint unleashed, he fists my hair and tugs, exposing my neck. My body arches into his as his mouth claims my skin, tongue tasting, teeth scraping lightly over my pulse.
I let my hands fall down his chest, fingers exploring his toned, scarred flesh, and dig the tips beneath the band of hisjeans. All the doors might be locked from the outside, so he’d need to keep a key close—likely on him.
Growing bolder, I lock my thighs against his hips, subtly searching for something solid, when he thrusts forward, grinding his erection against my center. The rough graze of denim against my sensitive skin draws a sharp breath from me.
His movements halt as his mouth settles over my ear. “What game are you playing, London.”
My eyes open, heart crashing against in my ribs. “I told you, I’m tired of the games.”
“Then stop playing and show meyou.” His grip in my hair tightens, and with his free hand, he seizes my ass, dragging me flush against him. A deep, aching pressure flares within my core.
“I don’t know what you want from me, but I want out of this sick mind game?—”
His mouth captures mine, swallowing my words in a ruthless kiss. I shove at his chest, hating the way I notice his tense muscles, loathing how my body surrenders to him, my hips pressing forward to meet the hard friction of his erection.
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my backside. My nails find purchase in his skin, clawing in frustration—the same way I clawed at the crate. He absorbs my attack, feeding off the pain. My fist lands against his bandaged shoulder, eliciting a low growl as he breaks the kiss.
He drags the rough pad of his thumb across my swollen bottom lip before he takes my hand and flattens my palm to his chest, covering the fresh scratches. “You’re here, London. Right here. There is no out.”
“Not like this…as your captive,” I protest, breathless. “Not as your victim.”
He exhales harshly, nostrils flaring. “What did you imagine for us? That I’d be another one of your dirty secrets? Your kept serial killer? Fucking between inmate sessions and visitations?” His chuckle is hollow, bitter. He thrusts his erection hard againstmy center, his voice lowering into a gruff rasp. “I hardly think that’s good enough for the respectable, renowned Dr. Noble.”
“You think you know me,” I fire back. “You have no idea who I am. What I like, or want, or need?—”
“Is that right.” He shoves a hand between my thighs, drawing a sudden gasp at the feel of his fingers pushing just inside. A wicked smile curls his mouth as he caresses me. “Goddamn, there’s my filthy girl—soaking wet, my London telling me exactly what she needs.”
Incensed, I lash out at his chest, my strikes wild. “God, I hate you.”
He captures my fist, eyes blazing. “You hate everything but me.”
With a deep groan, he hauls me off the counter. Before I can summon my fight, his strong arms have me backed against the wall. The impact steals my breath as he traps my bandaged wrists above my head.
“You think I don’t see past those little suits you use to conceal yourself, playing dress up,” he says against my lips. “Blouses buttoned high, hair pulled neatly back, glasses to hide behind…all to mask the vile things you truly crave.”
Keeping my wrists locked in one hand, his other drifts down my arm until he reaches the edge of the towel. With a harsh tug, my only barrier from him drops to the floor.
I tremble under the raw hunger in his gaze as it prowls over my naked body. He leans in, his lips brushing my ear, his heat branding my skin as his bare foot nudges mine apart.
“Admit it,” he whispers darkly. “Admit how much you hate the bullshit, that I know exactly exactly what you crave. Say you want this—that you wantus.”
He pushes a hand between my thighs, and I quake beneath his illicit touch, hips canting toward his hand, chest rising with shallow breaths.
“No matter how hot you get my body, I’ll never say thosewords to you, Grayson,” I seethe, clinging to my defiance even as I fall apart beneath his touch.
The air charges around us, an electric current humming, a threat to ignite every molecule in this room.
“Hmm, you need to play dress-up, need to be seen as the good doctor, even as those deep brown eyes plead for me to talk you through it. Fuck, you love it, just so you can keep being the good doctor.” He releases my wrists and drags a single finger along my neck, tracing the frantic flutter of my pulse. “You don’t have to ask for a thing, baby. I know what my good doctor needs—just like you know I need my prey to put up a fight.”
Suddenly, his hand seals over my mouth.
Then the unmistakable sound of his zipper lowering stalls my breath, my heart slamming violently against my ribs.
His hand moves between us, gripping himself, the head of his cock sliding against the bare skin of my stomach. “Let me show you how perfectly we fit together, love.”
