Page 23 of His Temptation

The thought sent a sharp pang through her chest.

If she ran, he would catch her. If she fought, he would break her down until she surrendered. And if she stayed…

Her pulse spiked.

Siobhan growled under her breath, raking a hand through her hair. There had to be a way out of this. There always was. She just had to find it—before it was too late.

Time kept ticking away. Siobhan clenched her fists at her sides, her chest rising and falling too fast. Everything in her screamed to deny him, to fight—to claw and burn and destroy. But something deeper, something more dangerous, told her this was inevitable. That it had always been inevitable.

Finally as the appointed hour loomed, she unlocked the bedroom door only to find Murphy standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you even eat or sleep?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss. Thank you for your concern. Daragh asked that I escort you to the study.”

“You mean his office?”

“Yes, Miss.”

She bloody well knew where his office was so she pushed past Murphy and led the way to the study where Daragh awaited, looking calm and confident as he leaned against his desk. Siobhan’s lips parted, her throat tight. She licked them, runningher tongue across their surface, barely noticing how Daragh’s gaze dropped to follow the movement.

Closing the double doors behind her, she slowly nodded. Daragh’s eyes flashed—something primal igniting in their depths. Siobhan let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to hold his stare.

“I suppose we should seal it with a kiss then,” she murmured.

Daragh’s lips curled into something dangerously amused. “Oh, kitten.” His hand suddenly fisted in her hair, tugging just enough to make her arch.

He leaned in, his mouth brushing her ear as his free hand unzipped his trousers, his voice nothing but gravel and command. “I had something more intimate in mind.”

Siobhan barely had time to process the words before he guided her down to her knees. Her breath hitched, her pulse pounding, as she stared up at him, her cheeks flushed with something hot and undeniable.

His thick, rigid length stood before her, hard and demanding, the head already slick with arousal.

A wicked thrill shot through her despite herself.

Daragh’s fingers tightened in her hair, his voice rough. “Open your mouth, kitten.”

Siobhan’s nails dug into his thighs, her chest heaving as she stared at him, her mind warring with her body. She should resist. She should fight. But instead—her lips parted. He guided himself forward, the thick heat of him brushing against her lips, and Siobhan felt her last shred of control snap.

Daragh let out a low growl of satisfaction. Her tongue flicked out, her breath ragged, and then she took him in. At first, she worked him slowly, her resistance evident in every hesitant movement, every shallow suck.

But Daragh wasn’t a man who allowed half-measures. His fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her deeper, making her take more of him until she had no choice but to relax and submit.

And God help her, but the moment she did, she loved it. Loved the way he groaned, the way his muscles tensed, the way he lost that iron control for just a moment as she hollowed her cheeks and took him fully. The power of it thrilled her.

She sucked harder, flicking her tongue over the sensitive underside, dragging her nails lightly along his thighs. Daragh let out a dark curse, his hips jerking slightly.

“Fuck, kitten,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, his body tight with restraint.

Siobhan’s blood sang, her panther purring in pleasure, her human side desperate to ignore the way she reveled in this submission. She swallowed him deeper, feeling the power shift, feeling his control break, just for her—and it made her drunk on the victory.

Daragh’s head tipped back, his fingers tightening, his breath coming fast and uneven, as he shoved himself to the back of her throat and emptied himself into her belly. Siobhan reveled in it. Because in this moment, he might own her, but she owned him too.

CHAPTER 7

SIOBHAN

Siobhan stared up at Daragh, breathing raggedly, her lips swollen, and her cheeks flushed. His hands remained tangled in her hair; his chest rose and fell with the remnants of his pleasure. His taste lingered on her tongue, reminding her of how completely she had given in and how easily his dominance had consumed her.

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