Page 27 of Caught Stealing

So I turn my head and capture his lips with mine.

I expect him to pause or pull back at the sudden contact, but he surprises me by sliding his tongue against the seam of my lips, seeking entrance I’m more than happy to give.

My cock thickens as his tongue slides against mine, twisting and tangling until a moan rumbles deep within my chest.

Something about this kiss feels different from the few we’ve shared. Yet somehow, it’s eerily familiar at the same time.

Maybe because it’s finally missing all the awkwardness and quirky fumbling. Instead, every press of his lips is filled with passion and…aggression. An almost fury that pours into me, filling me to the brim with a ferocity of my own.

My teeth sink into his lower lip and I tug, loving the brutality he’s showing me. He answers in kind when I release him, his tongue now flicking and teasing against mine in a torturous game of cat and mouse. Give and take.

Catch and release.

Another moan fills the otherwise silent room when his hips finally drop against mine, and I couldn’t say which of us it came from. All I know is the friction of his jeans against my bare cock is both heaven and hell.

“You’re making it really hard to behave,” I murmur, my fist balling in his shirt at the small of his back before dragging it up and over his head. “So you better tell me if you wanna stop.”

I feel his smile against my lips right before he captures them again, and I take it as a sign to no longer hold back.

My hips roll up into his while our tongues tangle some more, loving the slight bite of pain from the denim that accompanies the pleasure. He’s hard behind his jeans too, and I snake my hand between us to free him—wanting to finally feel him skin to skin.

I’ve barely worked open the button when his hand wraps around my wrist, halting my movements. I let him pull my arm away, assuming we’ve reached his limits. But he surprises me once again when he grabs the other wrist and drags them both up over my head, my knuckles brushing against the metal headboard.

It’s a move I’d usually hate, preferring my hands to be tracing, touching, and groping naked skin. Yet, when he uses a single hand to pin them to the bed above me, it only increases the fire already raging like an inferno inside me.

It’s a sexy, downright sinful move; one only made better when his free hand trails a single finger down my throat to my sternum. He makes no sign of stopping there, and it continues down a path over my abs until it finally traces me from root to tip.

I feel every single atom of his body as it presses against mine, but it’s the skin-on-skin contact that’s electric.

Intoxicating.

Fucking euphoric.

The need for more overwhelms me until I’m ready to beg him for pity or sympathy, anything to get him to really,trulytouch me. If he doesn’t, I might die on the spot from an explosion of need and testosterone. But there must be a masochistic side to him, because instead of having mercy on me and wrapping his hand around my length, his touch disappears entirely.

“More,” I pant, my head thrown back against the mattress in frustration. “I need more.”

Another dark, sinful laugh comes from him as he changes his torment by scraping his teeth over my throat instead.

His laugh, his silent command, his touch; all of it together creates the hottest, sexiest encounter I’ve ever had—with a guy or girl. Nothing compares to the way I’m being truly manhandled, explored, and teased.

That is, until the clicking of…metal registers.

Dread fills me instantly when the cool bite of the handcuff fastens around my wrists, and I go to pull away, only to find I’m already restrained.

“The fuck,” I hiss, bucking his body off mine as I start tugging against the cuffs to the point of pain. It’s no use, though—the only movement I get is the scrape of metal on metal as the links slide over the rails of the headboard.

The lights illuminate the room without warning, and I slam my eyes closed to prevent going momentarily blind.

But nothing could prepare me to meet the gaze of the shirtless man standing beside my door.

The one who has quickly become the bane of my fucking existence.

Phoenix.

Nine

Holden

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