Page 11 of Deception & Desire

Leon chuckles at that. It’s a dark sound, one that does things to my stomach, and I find my heart racing again without my permission.

He steps forward slowly, crowding into my space, and for a moment, I think my heart stops entirely.

But then he merely plucks the glass from my hand and pulls away. I do my best to ignore the way his fingers brush against mine, leaving a trail of heat across my skin.

“You’re fairly agreeable to look at yourself,” he admits as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

It’s infuriating. “You should see me without the dress on.”

That does it. That gets me the reaction I was craving. The flash of warmth in his eyes I noticed earlier appears again as his head snaps to me.

And then…

I’m suddenly pressed up against the window. The distance between us decreases to a hair’s breadth as his broad chest entirely surrounds me. Rum spice and black pepper and that dirty little smile.

“Would you like that?” His voice is low and thick. Teasing yet sure.

I try to focus, try to think as my senses become overwhelmed by him. “For…consummation purposes,” I manage to breathe out, proud of myself for coming up with such a logical excuse under such pressure.

He hums thoughtfully as his head dips down to my ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you.”

“You’re quite sure of yourself,” I say breathlessly, noticing the dark desire in his eyes.

His hand suddenly reaches out, snatching at my thigh, and he hoists it to his hip so that he can slip his leg between mine, pulling our bodies so close there’s barely a place we aren’t touching.

“I have every reason to be.”

I gasp and it’s suddenly a game. His eyes are clearly transfixed by my lips, and I want to put them all over his skin. But I can’t move first, can’t be the first to concede.

“Then get me out of this fucking dress.”

It’s unnerving in the best way how quickly he manhandles me, spinning me in an instant and pressing my front into the cool glass hard enough for another gasp to escape my lips. His hands make quick of the dress, and I shiver as it falls to the floor.

He releases me, stepping back as I turn to face him.

His expression is positively primal as he takes me in. “You were right.”

I quirk an eyebrow and step forward with more confidence than I feel. “About what?”

“This is far more agreeable.”

I know the game is going to end the second he reaches for me. And I let it, surrendering to the moment in front of me.

Hands tangle in my hair as he pulls it from my face, anchoring me there as he dips his head. There’s nothing chaste or respectable about this kiss. It’s filled with pure, unrestrained desire.

And I hate how easy it is to lose myself to the sensation.

His lips move against mine in perfect tandem with my own, as if we already know this particular dance, as if my body instinctively knows his.

Which is entirely impossible, except it’s absolutely insane at the same time.

“Fuck,” he breaths across my lips, pulling me impossibly closer, and yet not close enough at all.

His hands are like shackles, firm and large, skimming over every part of my body, holding my neck, my arms, my waist. He finally grips my ass so firmly that I have to stifle a groan.

All the while, his tongue explores mine with that same strange familiarity. I’m locked in battle, desperate to taste and taste and taste.

I bite down on his bottom lip, and suddenly, his hands drop down to my thighs, and I’m being hoisted up.

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