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“And what if it has?” I asked even as a nervous shiver chased up and down my spine. It was never anything I’d asked for from previous partners, but the thoughts, the images were there. They’d always been there.
One moment, he was standing still, and the next, he was right in front of me. He had his hands wrapped around my upper arms, and when his lips covered mine, there was certainly nothing romantic about his kiss. It was brutal, the way his mouth sought mine and his tongue pierced between the seams of my lips, demanding entry.
The cold shiver along my spine was still there, but the blood in my veins turned to lava, so hot and fast flowing that it chased away the chill.
But he was gone as quickly as he’d come, wrenching his lips away, shaking his head like he was trying to cast off whatever had come over him.
“Don’t tease me with that shit,perla,” he said, the movement of his lips quick and rough. “You play with fire, you get burned.”
Burned. I think I was already burning, from the inside out.
I leaned up on my toes, fighting against his hold on my arms to reach his lips. I was just about there when he leaned back, his eyes boring into mine with the intensity of laser beams.
“Last chance to walk away, Heidi. I suggest you take it.”
I didn’t move, not forward nor back. I thought about the way my lips already felt bruised and how his fingers were gripping me so tight, there were sure to be marks. And this was only the beginning. The knowledge sent chills and thrills up and down my spine in a riotous contradiction.I want this. No, I don’t,they whispered beneath my skin.
“Too late,” he said at the same time his grip on me transformed. No longer holding me at bay, he pulled me to him, crushing my breasts against the hard planes of his chest as he captured my mouth once again—for that’s what it was; captured. Claimed. Owned.
I felt branded by the bruising pressure of his lips as thoughts of the rope I’d found in his duffel bag flooded my brain like a drug, lighting up every receptor. The cuffs. The toys. The look in his eyes that said this man could be ruthless and demanding. Not erratic, though. There was nothing chaotic about his presence. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I’d no sooner moved my hands to his broad, muscled shoulders when he broke the kiss and stepped back.
“Strip,” he said, loud enough I could hear the muffled sound of his voice.
His command made me pause. There was a challenge in it, a dare. He thought I hadn’t what it took to go through with this.
I met his gaze, meeting his challenge, as I grabbed hold of the hem of my shirt and pulled it off over my head. Then my jeans. My bra fastened in the back, which was a good thing, keeping him from seeing the slight tremble of my hands as I worked it free and let the straps slide down my arms. All that was left was my thong, and I’d removed enough Band-Aids in my adult life to know that quick really was the best way of it.
I hooked my fingers into the narrow bands of fabric at my hips and dragged the thong down and right off my feet while his heated gaze grazed over every bare inch of me. Suddenly, I felt at a serious disadvantage here. Not only was I smaller than him, but the sharp contrast of his fully clothed body to my very naked one left me feeling exposed, vulnerable.
He took a step forward, and I took a step back, bumping the backs of my thighs against the back of the sofa. The urge to run was potent; the hope he’d catch me if I did, even more so.
Instead of running, though, I stood there as he slid his foot between mine and shoved, forcing my legs open. I had to grab onto the sofa back for balance.
He pressed a finger to the hollow of my throat and drew it down, straight down the center of me to my clit, but he didn’t stop there, he kept going, sliding his fingers along my slit, then plunging a finger inside me.
I don’t know how he did it, but on that very first stroke, the pad of his finger grazed over my G-spot, making my hips jolt at the unexpected surge of pleasure.
His very clothed body was close, so close I could feel the heat of him seeping into my bare skin as he worked his finger in and out, hitting that ultra-sensitive patch of flesh inside me with every stroke. All the while, he watched me. Not my body,me.His gaze never left mine, and somehow that amped up the power differential far more than even the height and breadth of him did.
He kept up the perfect rhythm inside me as his free hand unzipped his fly.
His trousers dropped.
“Is this what you want,perla?”he asked as he pulled his cock free from his black boxer briefs and stroked it with one hard, twisted pull.
Bloody hell.His cock was massive, long and thick. But that wasn’t all that had my mouth watering and my pussy clenching around his finger. His cock was pierced. I could almost feel the barbell that ran through the plump head hitting my G-spot over and over again.
“Yes,” I breathed because the thrills were winning at the moment, and the chills could just sod off.
“Then beg for it,” he said as he let go of his cock. He grabbed hold of my hip, holding me still as he fucked me faster with his finger.
Beg? I’d never begged for anything. But as the pleasure mounted and the lava pooled, low and heavy in my lower abdomen, the pleas climbed up my throat, higher and higher.
“Please, Amadeo.”
He grinned darkly. “Please what?”
