Page 63 of Strictly Forbidden

Maybe I’d eventually wake from this nightmare but to what? Another one? I couldn’t believe he’d looked me up. How had he known the details? The only way he could have discovered my true identity was by knowing someone in the justice system.

That only added to the same question I’d asked before.

Who the hell was this man?

The partial easy answer was that this man was a looker. Between his brawn and his windswept hair, there was no woman alive who could deny he had the sensual appeal of a lion searching for his mate. Every aspect about him and his prowess was meant to either seduce or intimidate, depending on the target. Just the way he looked at me was the thing dreams were made of, or maybe the sinful kind of fantasies I could only discuss in detail with someone like Zoe.

Even the scent of him, the heavy dose of cedar permeating his skin was the kind of aphrodisiac I couldn’t resist. No woman could. All the reasons were right there in the front of my mind as to why this wasn’t a good idea.

Including the possibility of losing my sweet Max.

Zoe had warned me not to write the man another letter because if a single person found out, we’d both be eliminated from the program.

I’d fight any fucker who dared tried to take Max away from me, which is maybe why I was surrendering to his seductive methods.

Or maybe I’d already been driven insane.

And more important, was he as dangerous as I believed him to be?

I was certain he’d simply drop me to my feet, allowing me to brood on my own after we headed inside, the man slamming and locking the door, but as with everything else, I was dead wrong.

He did place me on my feet, but he had no intention of letting me go off by myself. I could tell that by the way he dropped the bag, slowly turning around to face me.

In those beautiful moments of the way he was looking at me, clearly undressing me with his eyes, I sensed a complete change in him. It was quite possible I was feeling it myself, the hunger unbridled but it was all about the connection I felt with the man. Brutal or not, an ex-con or not, I suddenly didn’t care.

He’d allowed me to feel something so special the other night, an explosion of sensations that had just been awakened to an even more heightened level.

I was as crazed with desire as he was, the need becoming insufferable.

But he wanted to ensure I knew I wasn’t the one in charge of anything. He advanced, ripping off the jacket I’d found, grinning like some crazy man as he held it out, taking a few seconds before dropping it to the floor. His breathing was labored and as he jerked at the huge shirt I’d found, pulling it from my body as if it was no hindrance, I issued a harsh moan. Next were the boots, even dropping to his knees to remove one then the other.

He was far more melodramatic than before, tossing them with verve. Or maybe he was just out of patience with me, tired of my antics. While he was in the same position, he unfastened my jeans, this time being more careful to ease them down my legs. I was still conscious I wasn’t wearing a bra because in the few items I’d shoved into the bag before he’d dragged me out, I hadn’t thought to grab one.

It was a silly thought to have as this man undressed me roughly, lifting one leg and the other so he could rip the unwanted material away. It was odd that I was now completely naked while he was fully clothed.

He wasn’t bothered in the least, rubbing his huge hands up both of my legs as he spread them apart. Oh, God. He could see how wet I was, easily able to tell from my scent of desire that was already wafting between us.

I was so embarrassed yet entirely too exhilarated. It was crazy to want this but here I was in his control, longing to let go all over again.

I sensed he knew that by the way he moved closer, pressing his hot lips against my stomach. The sensations rocketing through me were incredible, so much so I eased my head against the door to try to curtail my lightheadedness.

It wasn’t working.

Excitement tore through me that was completely out of my control.

My heart was thudding, my pulse racing from adrenaline and God knew what else, and I couldn’t breathe. Or think. At least rationally. He kept my legs spread wide, blowing his extremely hot breath across my pussy.

It wasn’t often I’d felt comfortable with any man, pre or post trauma, but Kage had a way of making you feel wanted. As if you were the only woman in the world. The moment was pure sin, the idea that we were in a broken-down cabin in the middle of the mountains making this that much more salacious.

Even the way he growled like a beast added to the filthy and dangerous concept, enough that I could see little speckles of stars in my periphery of vision. But when he dared drag his rough tongue along the inside of my right thigh, I was certain I couldn’t stand any longer. Thankfully, his hold was firm. He wasn’t going to let me go this time.

He repeated the sinful action with my left leg, licking closer to nirvana, every sound as if he was a predator. My experiences up to this point had never been wild, of course never kinky. This was both in my mind, not that I’d know kinky if it bit me in the ass.

I laughed nervously, blinking six times to try to focus so I could get a handle on what he was doing. The moment he swirled just the tip of his tongue around my clit, I slapped one hand on top of his head, doing my best to encourage him to continue.

Okay, so it was my sordid way of trying to beg him not to stop without muttering the words. That would be far too embarrassing and I had a few things to feel shame about already.

Including acting like a child.

---