“Bastard,” Helen panted out. “I’m going to kick your ass for this.”
“Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight, you’re in a highly-aroused state with an injured leg. Advantage, mine.”
The way he saidmineshould have pissed her off. Instead it excited her. He excited her, this shadow who knew her body so well.
She could fight him, too, if only she could think straight. The sound of a cap coming off distracted her thoughts. She heard the squish. Liquid. Lotion? He lathered her with it from thigh to calf and gave her leg a vigorous rubdown. Whatever the lotion was, it heated up and penetrated like those stinky sports gels, except without the smell, and she could feel her muscles relaxing even more.
His palm stroked up her thigh. Her heart raced as she suddenly realized his intention.
“No!”
He didn’t pay any attention, rubbing her between the legs with the remaining lotion in his hand. She felt his fingers parting her, touching her already sensitive clitoris, and all around it.
“Oh…” she moaned, losing focus on the heat in her leg as another part of her started to tingle. Heat. Oh, my God, the heat. It rivaled the glow raging in her lower belly. She felt tormented inside and outside.
He stopped touching her there and went back to concentrating on just her leg. A nice, slow, deep massage, while in another part of her, the heat turned into a pulsing yearning. Helen wanted to scream. She wanted his hands higher, back where it was deliciously on fire. But he ignored her for what seemed like hours.
She heard herself panting. The tingle had grown into a roaring fire of need. He ignored her, totally absorbed in ministering to her leg.
Please. Higher, please.She wasn’t going to beg. She wasn’t going to let him know she was unbearably excited by being in his control.
She gritted her teeth as the heat teased her like an invisible hand. The yearning was unbearably erotic, driving her crazy, making her weak with desire. Her whole body grew tired of fighting the strange and wonderful sensations that had been attacking her all night. She desperately wanted to give in to them.
And still he ignored her. He was an excellent masseur. An arrogant, manipulating bastard, but an excellent masseur nonetheless. She couldn’t stand it any longer.
“You could try…” lost in sensation, she was unable to form a coherent sentence “…asking. Apparently you don’t know how to do that.”
He paused from his massage of her leg. “Yes.”
“Hades!”
He had inserted a finger inside her. He wasn’t waiting for an answer.
“I’m asking. Say yes, Elena.”
His way of asking was unfair and unethical. She must have mumbled those words; she wasn’t sure. The pulsing heat caused by the lotion, his slow and knowing hand, every fiber in her was shouting yes. She was drowning, her mind steeped in pleasure, and not caring to come up for air.
“Be persuasive, Elena. Innovative negotiation, as all GEM operatives know,” he mocked her. “Sometimes, no words are needed, sweetheart.”
To make his point, he scooted lower in her bed and leaned down. Helen could only watch helplessly as his head dipped in slow motion, as if giving her a chance to stop him. She couldn’t. She wanted him. Too late. His mouth made contact where his hand had been, his tongue taking over what his fingers had been doing.
Helen squeezed her eyes shut. Too much. No, it was just right. It was very obvious that he knew how to please a woman. He kissed her like a lover who knew his partner’s body too well, nibbling the sensitive flesh and rolling his tongue lazily across her nub. Over and over. He was thorough as he built the pleasure to a feverish pitch, guiding her to that edge of madness.
Biting down on her lower lip, she let out a long mewing groan throatily as an orgasm crashed through her like rolling thunder. Her body had wanted this for so long that it was determined to keep the orgasm going for as long as it could, fighting her need for control, sweeping her and holding her in a haze of pleasure until she thought she would die from not breathing.
“Is that a yes?” His husky voice finally penetrated her senses, a soft hush over the monotone of the sound wave from the brain entrainment machine.
She was still trying to catch her breath, her body giving small spasms as the pleasure lingered. And lingered. She was still hot, the heat building up again. She made another sound of rage when he blew on her softly.
“No answer?” he mocked. “But I have all night to persuade you. More?”
More meant more lotion. His hands were all over her, traveling slickly up her belly, under her T-shirt to her torso, till he cupped both her breasts possessively. He played with her nipples as his mouth went back to pleasuring her. The lotion took effect almost immediately, overwhelming her until all she could feel was the heat, his hands and his mouth.
By the time he’d stopped, she was weak from pleasure and desire, and still she remained unsatiated, as her body ached for more. She wanted more.
He slid up her body. She heard a sharp tear and registered vaguely that he was destroying her favorite old T-shirt. His mouth caught her right nipple, pulled on it with his teeth. Just like in the dream. Oh, God. Only the heat was doubling the pleasure. And also the hunger.
“Please,” she gasped out, no longer caring about pride.
