Page 9 of Vows in Sin
I pull her flush against me, love the feel of her trembling against my chest.
My face to her cheek. Soft skin and strawberries. My gut clenches. “Bachmans have lessons for naughty girls.”
She swallows. “You’re not touching me.”
“I’m already touching you.” I press my mouth to her ear. “You lied. And I hate lies.”
I savor the power I have over her, intoxicated by her defiance, fear, and the hint of need she’s giving off.
“Now,” I growl, “you’re mine to punish.”
“Try me,” she dares.
My British manners come through. “My pleasure.”
And now, I reign over this doe-eyed beauty.
Clearly, in over her head with our notorious playboy, Dame, she’s put herself in harm’s way. It’s not my job to teach her to take her safety seriously. I’ve got thirty things to do tonight, and as of now, I’ve done fuck all.
But she’s everything missing from my dreary night. A tasty, tantalizing morsel standing before me, ready to be devoured.
I pull her close, pressing her against my chest, feeling her warmth. She gazes up at me with the deepest brown eyes I’ve seen. Her rapid heartbeat is like a hummingbird’s, her breaths come shallow, yet she maintains her stare with soldier-like courage.
My gaze travels lower, to her painted pink lips. Blood flows to my cock, thinking of the fullness of that pretty pucker. I press my hips to her. She gives a little gasp, feeling me against her. But curiously, she doesn’t back away.
Her grit makes me want her all the more.
I pull her down the hallway. One hand grips her wrist, the other palm presses against her lower back where the silk of her dress clings to her like a second skin. The bass from the club pounds in my chest, matching my racing pulse.
Too-high, too-pink heels click against the concrete floors. She knows she’s under my control, yet she’s got some fight in her. She proves it with the march of her stilettos, loud and proud, the sound echoing against the walls with defiance.
I tug her into the privacy of the office, shut the door, and turn the lock with a click, then turn my full attention on my little temptress.
She stands in front of the desk, as far from me as possible. Her hands rest at her sides, nervously clenching and unclenching, unsure of what to do with them.
Driven by an unexpected hunger, I moved across the room, bridging the gap between us. I tower over her, loving the feeling of her trembling body against mine.
I push her against the desk hard enough for her to feel the promise behind the gesture. I lean in, our faces just inches apart, our eyes locked. There’s an ache in my chest.
I want her that badly.
I move closer, mouth to her ear, not quite touching. “You know what this place is, little doll?”
She doesn’t answer.
“The family club. Only invited girls get through that door.” I brush a loose curl aside, exposing her neck and her trembling little secret; she’s intrigued by my threats. “You took a gamble. You wanted to play. You lost. Now, you pay.”
I don’t wait for permission—she lost that the minute she stepped past the dumpsters. Defiance has consequences, and I plan to imprint that lesson.
Deeply.
She’s too pretty a little thing to be putting herself in danger like this.
She gasps as I grab her hips. “You’re so beautiful. Let me see all of you.”
“Huh?” She shoots me that adorable deer in headlights look with her deep brown eyes. I’m flipping her around so fast she can’t get any real words out.
Her hands plant against the desktop to steady herself as she faces the wall. “Ooh!”
