My blood surges. Heat floods through me despite the exhaustion that kept the sexual tension at bay until now.
She certainly didn’t have that problem holding her back. And I don’t think it’s my cold touch that has her nipples hard as rocks or her thighs clenched so tightly together.
I cup her jaw, my fingertips barely grazing her throat. Shivers run down her skin, and she licks her lips. That tiny act captures my attention.
“Wanna bet?” I settle my weight more fully onto the bed. “You were about to break back at the hotel while sitting in mylap. Maybe that’s what we need to do to get you back into that headspace. You want to sit on my lap, Nika?”
Standing up, I start stripping off the layers of weather protection.
“You’re insane.” Yet dark, hungry eyes track my every movement, each piece of clothing that drops. “The only part of that I liked was the headbutt.”
“So you like it rough.” I shove the snow pants down, then sit on the bed beside her to pull them over my boots. “I do too.”
“I…” She stops to bite her lower lip before curling her body against the headboard. “I didn’t say that.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what you meant.” Plucking a chunk of snow from the floor, I lightly drag it up her arm, to her shoulder, and then down her side and over her hips while cataloguing every micro-expression. The fear. The fury. The desire she’s struggling to hide.
My hand covers her through the fabric of her panties, eliciting a half-groan, half-gasp. Still, she doesn’t retreat.
Immediate heat wraps around my icy digits. I’m sure the cold must burn her. She arches slightly off the bed, rolling along my finger.
Lust barrels through me, harder and faster than ever before. I’ve had plenty of sexual escapades in my life, all with women whose names I can’t remember, in moments that merely scratched an itch.
This is different.
I tell myself it’s about power and dominance even as my fingers slide between hot, delicate folds and damp cotton. About making her understand that I own her now, that her body will betray her just like mine betrayed me in that hotel room.
As I peer into her angry, half-lidded eyes while making her lithe, muscular form writhe for me, I remind myself of an important truth.
It’s just sex.
Chapter 15
Nika
Shame hits on the heels of the overwhelming lust.
Humiliation burns through me from head to toe, pooling in the exact places his hand just stroked.
He catalogued the way I responded, the way I couldn’t control myself.
I hate how he regards me. I despise him with a physical intensity that stretches my skin. I loathe him for arousing me and proving that fifteen years of discipline and training mean nothing when confronted with his presence.
Worse still, I hatemyselffor craving his touch.
The silk stockings bite into my wrists, and I strain against them, testing their strength. They don’t give.
I’m stuck here, helpless and at his mercy.
Heat comes off Max’s body in waves as he braces himself over me. Beneath the damp scent of melting snow, that heady, woodsy fragrance wafts through my nose, coating my throat. His ragged breathing tells me he’s not as unaffected as he wants me to believe. This isn’t just a ruthless demonstration of power, only his excuse for surrendering.
So why can’t we? Why not just toss everything else aside, get this out of our systems, and then go back to killing each other?
That impulse complicates the situation further as his hand moves without warning to cup my ass.
He spreads his fingers and lifts. The angle changes everything. Opens me. Exposes me. And his thumb?—
Oh god.
