Page 121 of Illicit Temptation

He lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist. Walking, he kisses me until we’re in the bedroom and his knees hit the bed. He drops me on it, the soft top cover swallowing me.

While I watch, Trace undresses, tossing his shirt aside but leaves his slacks on.

When I reach to lift off the sweater dress I changed into for dinner, he shoots me a warning. “Don’t you dare.”

Trace bends down and pulls the dress right over my head. With a knife from a leather holder on his hip, he cuts off my panties, resting the blade between my tits. Heat pulses deep in my core. I never thought a knife against my skin would make me so wet.

But here I am. I blow out a breath and can’t believe I’ve gone from furious at this man to aching for him to be inside me. The bedroom with its pitched ceiling planks reminds me of a cozy attic and the vast nothingness all around us feels like we’re the only people left in the world.

Trace holds my chin, and his deep stare kicks up my heart rate. It’s so strong it hammers against my ribs.

His voice deepens, deadly and sharp as that blade. “I’m going to edge you and you’re going to beg me to fuckyou.”

“Wanna bet?”

His smile widens as he rubs my pussy.

“Good, yes. Fight back. It gets you so wet.”

He releases my core and sticks those fingers in my mouth.

“Can’t we do both?” And damn,thatgets me so wet.

Heat flares in his eyes, and I’m flipped on the bed face down.

Uh oh.

He rains down a few blows on my bare ass. The sharp sting of white-hot pain mixes with a deep craving in my core to be fucked.

“That’s for having the audacity to suggest another man can touch you.”

He yanks my legs open and breathes against the shell of my ear, while his fingers circle my clit. “You’re so fucking mine.”

I writhe against the bed, my whimpers catching his attention. Trace flips me back over and kisses my salty wet lashes. “I love you, Shea. I’ve always loved you.”

“Oh, Trace.”

“Now show me who you really are.” His lips make a trail down my body until he reaches my center.

I gyrate my hips and press his face into my core to help him make me come.

“This is who I am. I’m a fucking O’Rourke.” Taking what I want.

“Youwerean O’Rourke. Now you’re a Quinlan.MyQuinlan.” He sits up and strokes my folds. “And you’re fucking soaked for me.”

The sound of his zipper mixed with my stuttering breaths punctuates the quiet. “Tell me you love me,” he says, hoarse with lust. His eyes are wild, but I love that if I withhold the sentiment, he’ll fuck me harder.

God, I’m sick.

My silence pours gasoline on the fire in his eyes. “I see,” he says, his accent as thick as I ever heard it.

He reaches down, his knuckles brushing my aching, swollen clit. “You’re gonna regret denying me what I know to be true.” He lowers his pants and takes out his cock.

The blunt head, wet and velvety soft, breaches my entrance. Like a bull out of the gate, he thrusts inside me. He’s so damn tall, his back bows, holding my hands over my head while he fucks me with long agonizing strokes.

He curls his hips, sliding all the way out, then slamming all the way back in.

Seeing the fury and uncontrolled lust in my eyes, he smiles. To tease me, he pulls out, kneels between my legs to lick me, and suck on my clit. Driving me fucking crazy. It’s mind-bending as I come in his mouth.

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