Page 27 of Sinful Desires

By the time the sky began to lighten with the first hint of dawn’s approach, there had been no choice but to leave. As it turned out, it had been the right move across the board. I’d given her a reason to think of me the rest of her trip. Now, she was here, wanting answers. I was in her head. How could I not be after the heat that exploded between us in the cockpit?

“We need to talk about what happened.” With her back to me, she stared out the window. If only I could have seen her face, but then her voice revealed her nerves clearly enough. “That should never have happened. We both know that.”

“Since when do you put words in my mouth?”

She ventured a glance over her shoulder, her mouth screwed up in a smirk of disbelief. “You can’t tell me you don’t see what I’m saying.”

“I see what you think you’re saying.”

With a heavy sigh, she whirled around, throwing her hands into the air. “Quit playing games. That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Whatareyou here for?” Pushing away from the dresser, I began to round the bed, one slow step after another. “You don’t want to kiss me again? Fair enough. Don’t kiss me again. Why did there need to be an entire meeting about it?”

Her dark lashes fluttered over her eyes, swirled with confusion. “I wanted you to know in case you had the wrong idea.”

“What would the wrong idea be?”

Clasping her hands on top of her bun, she shook her head. “Stop. Stop with the word games. Stop with the mind fucking. I’m sick of it.”

Was there something deeply wrong with me, enjoying the sight and sound of her unraveling? “It was a simple question,” I reminded her in a voice more measured than hers. “What would the wrong idea be?”

“Goddammit. I should’ve known better.” With a growl, she started marching toward the door, and she might’ve gotten past me had I not caught hold of her elbow and pulled her in.

“Do you always run away when things get complicated?” Fuck, her light, vanilla-tinged perfume did something to me, along with the heat from her quickening breath fanning across my face. She tugged her arm, but I tightened my grip.

“Let go of me,” she growled out. Sheer, white-hot outrage flowed through every word, tightened her muscles, and narrowed her flashing eyes.

“Stop running.”

Drawing herself up to her full height still left her more than a head shorter than me. Was I supposed to be intimidated? “I wasn’t running. I was removing myself from a situation where I’m wasting my fucking time.”

“You’re right. There are much better things we could be doing with our time, don’t you think?” Confusion flickered across her face in the instant before I lunged forward to taste her lips. She gasped, shuddering like an electric current ran through her. Then took me by the back of the head and held me in place, kissing me furiously.

I hadn’t counted on this. There was heat, yes, but it was more than the sort generated by two bodies in close quarters. This was more than the desire that had bloomed between us in the cockpit.

She hated me, and that hatred poured from her with every swipe of her tongue against mine, every tug of her fingers in my hair, and every sharp, short breath as I backed her against the bed, where she began almost tearing at my clothes in a frenzy, tossing my jacket to the floor and pulling my sweater over my head. Her fingertips danced over the lion’s head inked across my chest, eyes meeting mine before she lowered her head to run her tongue over the firm muscles.

I’d envisioned this moment so many times in the weeks since I first set eyes on her and decided she would suit my purposes. I’d always imagined keeping a measure of control, maintaining composure, and not allowing myself to be swept up.

I may as well have decided to stand stock-still in the center of a swirling cyclone. There was no hope of maintaining a grip on myself in the force of what exploded between us once all of the anger and bitterness in me surged to the surface, met by everything she’d bottled up over the past few weeks. It was a potent combination like TNT and a lit match.

I took her by the hips and pulled her close against my raging erection, grinding against her, sinking my fingers into her flesh until she whimpered and melted against me. Her teeth sank into my bottom lip, pulling it until I hissed, dancing on the thin line between pain and pleasure.

Thank fuck they lived in a sprawling penthouse where there was no chance that her whimpers would be heard. Because I intended to make it my mission to extract every last moan out of her. Those sounds belonged to me, and by the time I was done with her, she wouldn’t be able to deny it, no matter how hard she fought me.

Working my hands under her sweater, I wasted no time pulling it over her head. My greedy hands traveled her body, measuring her firmness, the softness of her skin, those glorious tits encased in another lacy bra. A simple flick of the clasps andit fell away, stealing my breath and turning my already rock-hard dick to steel. I lifted them in my hands, worshiping them, sucking and teasing until her fingers danced through my hair, and she moaned, low and deep, the sound unleashing a primal force I barely kept a hold on when there wasn’t a gorgeous woman writhing against me.

“Fuck, yes,” she grunted out, her nails running over my shoulders and down my back.

I was lost in sensation.

Lost in lust…

… lost inher.

There was no stopping now, not when her hand brushed my aching bulge. I wouldn’t be refused this time.

“I hate you,” she furiously whispered while fumbling with my belt. “I fucking hate you.”

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