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“When I was sixteen.”
“So young. Your family relocated?”
“No.” She banked down on the line of questioning. Her expression was a closed book; she wore with ease the mask of coldness. She used it whenever someone asked about her past.
“Did you run away?”
Apparently, he didn’t have any intention of heeding her non-verbal signs.
“In a sense,” she was the definition of noncommittal, even shrugging her slender shoulders to show her nonchalance.
“In what sense,” he pushed, lifting his hands to cup her breasts. He flicked his fingers across her nipples, sending waves of erotic desire through her.
“I have an aunt. I came to stay with her.”
He took one of her sensitive aureoles in his mouth, running his tongue around it while his fingers continued to torment the other. “You are being vague.”
“Am I? I’ve answered your questions. You haven’t told me where you’re from, and I asked first.”
“So you did.”
“So?” She pushed, frustration making her snap. How could she want him again so soon? She pushed at his boxer shorts, desperate to touch him. To feel him. Her fingers connected with his arousal and she let out a noise of relief.
He closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together. “You are trouble,” he said on an exhalation of breath.
She nodded. “Definitely.”
His noise was a sound of impatience. He kissed her mouth hard, then wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her against him easily. He lay her on the floor; it was cold beneath her back but she didn’t care. She knew the warmth would come.
And it did.
He entered her quickly; as though they hadn’t slept together in a year, not a matter of minutes. He drove into her with all the strength of his needs, crying out as she arched her back and took him deep into her core. His fingers were spies on her body, seeing it and feeling it, enjoying every single bit of her. And he brought his mouth crashing back to hers, his tongue moving fiercely while his body possessed her.
He was her master, and in that moment, she would have done anything he said. Her face was pink and her eyes were glazed. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she began to tumble over the edge. She heard screaming but didn’t immediately realise it was her mouth ringing the noises of pleasure into the hotel.
They clung together as he pushed them to the edge of the known universe; pleasure soaked them as they moved as one. It was a dance invented by no one and enjoyed by many, but never more so than these two bodies, brought together by fate and desire.
Cassie could hardly breathe, and not because of his weight on her. He was heavy, but pleasurably so.
Her lack of breath had to do with the realisation that she was doing exactly what she’d sworn she wouldn’t. After Antonio, she’d promised both herself and Melinda she’d keep things light. And there was nothing light about this man. Sure, they’d agreed to a purely physical relationship, but there was an intensity to him that was apparent in everything he did.
She thought of the way he’d been writing, back in the bar. Even that had been purposeful. And he’d been angry.
She shifted a little, so that she could tilt his head and see his face. “What were you doing in the bar?”
His dark eyes latched curiously with hers. “What does anyone do in a bar?”
She shook her head with impatience. “You were writing something. Something that was making you furious.”
His dark eyes continued to run over her face. Finally, he nodded. “Yes.”
“What was it?” She reached for his hand and weaved her fingers through his. She lifted it to her mouth and took his thumb into her mouth. She moved her tongue over it seductively, knowing that both he and she were imagining she was encircling another part of his anatomy. She felt him jerk inside of her, as desire stirred anew.
It brought a smile o
f satisfaction to her lips. He moved his hips; once again showing his possession of her. Cassie smiled against his shoulder.
“It was a note of instruction. A response to some advice I had received.”
