Page 138 of Captured


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He gets up, closing the safe with a wicked look on his face.

“Loki…” I warn, knowing that he’s up to something by the gleam in his green eyes.

“We really should cross this room off our list before we leave, don’t you think?” he purrs, backing me up against the desk.

“Loki,” I moan as he dips his head and starts kissing up my neck, his hands going to the hem of my dinosaur print pinafore dress.

I gasp at the sizzling contact as his fingers tease the lacy edge of my fishnet stockings. I know it’s winter and impractical as hell, but we’re headed to an island near Bali for Christ’s sake, and I wanted to look nice for the others. Maybe even join the mile high club.

He keeps up his teasing caress on my neck, nipping and sucking until I’m putty in his hands and my legs are wobbling beneath me. His hands move to the back of my thighs, lifting me and setting me down on the top of the desk, mouth never faltering. His hand starts to travel higher up my thigh, toying with the edge of my silk knickers.

I feel burning hot need pooling low in my core, he always has this effect on me. If Loki was a superhero, his power would be to incinerate panties and make women, and probably men too, spontaneously orgasm, just by looking at them.

My eyes open on a gasp as he dips his fingers underneath the silk.

Then it’s as if a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown over me.

“Loki,” I say, squinting, and trying to make sense of the picture on the wall as my heart starts to pound.

“Hm?” he mumbles, still kissing my neck, although I can’t feel the touch anymore.

“Why is there a picture of my mum on your wall?”

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