Page 67 of Hearts at War

“I...”

He picked me up, his big hands molding over the cheeks of my ass. “You need this?” he asked, kissing me further. I let my head hang back, giving him access as he turned us, keeping me secure in his grip.

I’d never felt so small, but in a good way. Dainty and cherished, treasured. Not petite and inferior to be taken advantage of, like with Dav—

No!

He had no right to trespass on this moment. He couldn’t sneak into my thoughts now.

I whined a desperate sound and pulled back from Roarke at the moment he rested me on the edge of the high table. Clattering to the floor, the first-aid kit fell. It didn’t pull me from this moment though. Memories and comparisons with my ex wouldn’t either.

Roarke was giving this to me. He was offering me an escape with him, and I needed it. Mentally and physically, I had to have this with him, now.

I pulled at my shirt, wishing the tiny metal snaps of my blouse didn’t stay together quite this stubbornly. With another harder tug, I jerked so hard that a seam ripped. White halves of cotton hung open, and Roarke didn’t wait.

He growled, gazing at the top swells of my breasts confined in the white lace. Then he dipped his head down to kiss along the hem of the cups.

“You want—”

I groaned, smashing his head to my chest as I leaned back with one hand behind me.

His answering chuckles sounded filthy. Wickedly bad but so good as he continued kissing and sliding his tongue along the hem of my bra. His right hand stayed on my ass, and as he slanted me over the table, teasing my breasts, he pushed me until he stood between my legs, parted wide for him.

“You’re determined to want this,” he said, tugging a bra cup down so he could close his lips over my nipple, “but I’m going to get the truth out of you yet.”

“Oh, I want,” I said, not caring how out of breath and needy I sounded.

“And it’s past time you open up to me, gorgeous.” He sucked and tugged on my nipple as he moved his hands. His left one tugged the other cup down so he could roll my nipple between his thumb and finger.

“You want me to open up?” I taunted. I spread my legs wider, pushing my pussy toward him in a search for more friction.

He laughed again, that gritty, sinister chuckle that turned me on even more.

“I’m not an idiot to be manipulated anymore,” he warned as he shifted his mouth to my other breast. I keened at the pressure of his suction there, making my nipple bead harder as a spark of need hit me in my uterus. It clenched, aching along with my pussy for his touch.

“I’m not manipulating...you.” I could barely speak at this rate.

“You won’t,” he rasped, easing his hand around me. From my ass, where he clutched me, he slipped his fingers forward and pulled on my panties. “You won’t manipulate me,” he swore as he raised his head to mine and kissed me hard.

I moaned into his mouth, holding the back of his head so he wouldn’t part at all. As he tugged and slid my panties lower, I squirmed and rocked on my hips to help him get them off.

I was soaked. Exposed to the air, I was chilled from the smear of my juices on my skin.

But I wasn’t cold. Not with him here.

“You want this,” he taunted with liquid heat burning in his smoldering eyes.

I nodded as he stroked his fingers along my folds.

“And you want me,” he added before he kissed me harder for a long, torturous moment of his slow, light dips of his finger inside me.

I thrust into his hand, showing that I did.

“But I want some answers, too.”

I kissed him harder, not committing to that. It was wrong. It was greedy, but I needed to come.

He didn’t push for a reply. It seemed he was content to state his demands, his requests, and leave them hanging in the air. Before I could blink, he pulled back. Grabbing the chair he’d vacated, he slid it closer to the table and dropped into it in one continuous move.