Page 85 of Dangerous

Adam wove his fingers into her coppery hair as she took him deep, working him with a relentless skill that brought him to the point of climax far quicker than he wanted.

Her kneeling form was the very embodiment of feminine submission and contrition. But Adam could not forget how easily she’d made love to him while she’d kept another man dangling in his very own house, no matter how skillfully she employed her mouth. He stepped away from her and she looked up, no doubt annoyed he’d interrupted her masterful performance.

“Get up.” He took her upper arms and lifted her. Her lips were swollen and slick from their tender labor and the sight made him burn. He looked into the huge pupils of her green eyes and the desire he felt—no, the love he felt—robbed him of breath.

And so did the hate.

Hatred for the power she had over him, the power to take his happiness and sanity away, the power to give him either pleasure or pain as she chose; hatred for the thousand ways in which she now held him in the palm of her hand.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

She complied without speaking. He trapped her hands with his and pulled her arms taut, roughly shoving apart her legs before stepping between her thighs. He entered her with a thrust so violent he lifted her off her feet. She moaned and pushed back against him and the last vestiges of his sanity burned away.

“You will never leave me again,” he gritted the words into the back of her fiery head as he filled her. “Do you hear me?” He slammed into her. “You are mine,” he said from between jaws clenched so hard it hurt. She arched against him in answer.

“If I ever catch you with another man, I will kill him while I make you watch. And then I will punish you.” He thrust savagely to illustrate his point. He rode her without any finesse, tenderness, or care for her pleasure, the only thought in his mind the need to brand, dominate, and possess.

His climax was violent and all-consuming. It turned his body inside out, the brief escape from everything except pleasure a gift unlike any other. But all too soon he came back, collapsing against her and vaguely aware of her contractions subsiding around him.

God, how he loved her.

The realization gave him no pleasure and was like a cold fist around his heart.

The thought of his seed filling her caused him to burn with a primitive satisfaction but it reminded him his child was already growing within her. It was like having ice water dashed over his head.

Adam turned her from the wall with as little tenderness as he’d placed her there.

“I have not harmed you? I have not harmed the child?” His coldly abrupt words could barely squeeze past the lump lodged in his throat.

She shook her head, her green eyes languid and sleepy, her skin still mottled with passion.

He turned away, snatched a towel off the pile, and walked to the door.

“Adam?” The word was breathless.

“What?” He stopped to wrap the towel around his waist but he didn’t turn around.

“Are we going to sleep in your room or mine?”

“Both,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The two ships were bustling with activity when they boarded them the next day.

Ramsay had already tried to give Adam and Mia his cabin but it was clear there would be no place large enough to comfortably hold the baron if they accepted his offer.

Adam thanked him, saying a smaller cabin would suffice. Ramsay stared intently at Martín until he heaved an exaggerated sigh and flung his hands in the air.

“Take my cabin, my lord.”

Adam opened his mouth but Mia intervened before he could reject the offer.

She knew her husband would much rather travel on Ramsay’s ship, but she’d already made the journey once and knew the discomfort of small cabins.

“Thank you, Captain Bouchard, we should be very pleased to accept your kind offer.”

Bouchard’s hostile eye roll was more rewarding than the slap she’d wanted to administer the day before. “Follow me,” he said abruptly, turning on his heel and striding ahead of them, not waiting to see if they were behind him.