Page 33 of Fast Vengeance

His eyes were like molten steel as he gazed at her, the bulge of his erection pushing against his jeans. This powerful, heart-stoppingly sexy man was surrendering himself to her. Offering himself to her so she could have full control over what happened next.

She wasn’t sure whether she was terrified or more turned on than she ever had been in her life.

He didn’t smile, his expression intense. That magnificent chest rising and falling with each breath he took. “Tie this good and tight, angel, because if you don’t, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.”

Chapter Ten

The shock on Tori’s face transformed into a look of enthrallment, and the heat in her eyes as she stared at him made Brock’s heart pound. He’d decided on this well before coming here, and was going with his gut. She’d had all control stripped from her when she was taken captive. She needed to take it back.

She stepped closer to the bed, the candlelight flickering over her golden skin. “Are you sure about this?” she whispered, glancing at the scarf wound around his wrists.

Yes. He curled his fingers around the bottom rung of the iron headboard and nodded once, about to come out of his skin. Surrendering control this way wasn’t even remotely in the realm of his comfort zone, but he would gladly do it for her. “Do it.”

The look on her face, like she’d been starving and suddenly given access to an all you can eat buffet and didn’t know where to begin, made him go hard all over. Her dark brown eyes glowed with arousal as she climbed up to kneel beside him in that sexy as hell dress and reach up to secure the scarf to the headboard.

He had a moment’s unease as she tugged the fabric taut around his wrists, his dominant nature rebelling at the idea of being rendered helpless when all he wanted was to grab her, strip her and pin her beneath him on this bed. But there was something so fucking hot about the act of laying himself out like this for her.

Giving the fabric one last tug to secure the ends around the iron rung, she slipped her fingers under the fabric at his wrists to check it, her eyes flicking down to his. “Not too tight?”

“No.” Snug, but not cutting off his circulation. And fuck, if she didn’t touch him soon he might lose his mind.

A slight smile curved her mouth as she settled on one hip beside him, sweeping that dark, hungry gaze over the length of his body. “I think I like having you at my mercy.”

His fingers flexed restlessly. “So touch me.” His voice was rough, his body on edge. Because he was dying for her touch. To see what she would do to him.

Her eyes snapped back to his, and the feminine hunger and power there made the breath back up in his lungs. Setting one hand beside his head, she leaned down to hover her lips inches above his. Brock bit back a growl, his breathing coming faster. God, kiss me. Touch me.

Her lips settled on his, light as a sigh, and her tongue grazed his lower lip. He opened, lifted his head to increase the contact, needing more. She gave it to him, capturing his head in her hands and kissing him hard and deep. When she stopped a minute later they were both breathing fast and her pupils were dilated.

She stood, faced him as she trailed her fingers down her neck. Teasing him. Brock followed every single movement of those graceful fingers as they traced the edge of the dress down to her cleavage, down to her waist where the tie on her dress was.

She pulled it slowly, never looking away from him. One panel of the fabric slipped open, revealing the upper swell of her breasts for a moment before she reached inside and undid the other tie. She pushed her shoulders back, letting the deep blue fabric slither to a puddle at her feet.

Brock groaned at the sight of her standing there in nothing but a red bra and matching panties. Proud. Strong. His heart thudded, trying to beat out of his chest. “Come here,” he rasped out, glad he was tied up because there was no goddamn way he would’ve been able to keep from touching her now.

She prowled toward him, there was no other word for it, and climbed up to straddle his hips. They both sucked in a breath as she made contact with his erection. Tori leaned her weight on her hands and bent forward to kiss him, rubbing her core against him. He groaned into her mouth, his hips lifting to ease the ache between his legs.

She kissed her way down his chin, nibbled down his neck to his chest, pausing to dart her tongue across his nipple, suck lightly. Brock made a low sound of pleasure and watched her, riveted, while those sweet, soft lips trailed lower. Tracing the ridges of his abs, pausing at his navel before she scooted down his legs to rub her cheek over his confined erection.

He closed his eyes. Swallowed. Wondered how the hell he was going to survive this. He bit back the words on his tongue, the demand that he wanted to see her naked. Kiss and suck her everywhere. Make her crazy. This was her show. He had to let this all unfold in her time.

Her fingers slipped just under the top of his waistband. His eyes popped open to watch as she undid the button, slowly slide the zipper down, the metallic rasp loud in the hushed silence.

She dragged the denim and his underwear over his hips. He lifted to assist her, his cock springing free, the feel of her hands grazing the insides of his thighs as she peeled his jeans and underwear off making the muscles there twitch. He was so fucking hard for her. Aching.

Sitting back on her heels to stare at him, she made a low, hungry sound and coasted her palms up over his thighs. Inch by torturous inch, her fingers caressing as they eased higher, higher, sliding inward…

His entire body contracted when her hand curled around him, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. She bent down, kissed his rigid abdomen, rubbed her cheek against him, the silky fall of her hair trailing over his hyper-sensitized skin. Then she gave him a stroke, the caress of her palm like fire against the swollen head of his cock. Her tongue darted out to lick just below his navel.

Fuck.

Brock held his breath, clenched his fingers around the iron bar, imagining they were clenching in her hair instead. Guiding her mouth lower to his straining flesh.

And then those soft, warm lips brushed the head of his cock. Parted to slide it between them.

He groaned in sweet agony and fought the need to push deeper into her mouth, his eyes slamming closed. The wet glide of her tongue made him shudder, his entire body rigid as she sucked gently. “Christ,” he bit out, being restrained somehow making him a hundred times more sensitive than normal.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, and when he pried his eyes open to look down at her, the arousal in her gaze as she peered up at him with his cock between her lips made the burn so much worse.

---