Page 13 of Her Outlaw Prisoner
I wonder what it’d be like to see him lose all that control he’s holding on to so tightly. I drag my fingers up his chest, letting my nails scratch against his throat, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw. His eyes flicker shut for half a second, a vein fluttering dangerously on his neck. I lean down to graze my lips over the vein. Ronan grunts, a deep, tortured sound that seems to come from deep down in his chest.
His grip tightens on me, his fingers digging into my waist, and suddenly I’m the one who can’t breathe.
“Do you really wanna do this, baby?” he asks, his voice dangerously low.
“Yes.”
There’s no denying this for me, this insane pull, this electrifying sensation of his body against mine. There’s no denying the things he makes me feel.
His lips crash against mine again, but this time it’s different—harder. Almost desperate.
I gasp against his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair, holding on because suddenly I feel like I’m falling, drowning in a strange sea of sensations. His hands slide under my shirt, cupping my breasts through my lace bra. I moan into his mouth, trembling as my nipples harden beneath his hands. I arch into him, wanting more, needing him to keep going.
He must feel how desperate I am, because he groans against my lips, then drags his mouth down, over my jaw, down my throat. I tilt my head back, giving him more access, my pulse hammering so hard I’m sure he can feel it. His tongue flicksagainst my pulse, his teeth scraping, teasing. I moan before I can stop myself, but then cut myself off, glancing toward the door nervously.
I feel his smirk against my skin. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you. I paid Rodriguez to give us a little undisturbed time. It’s just you and me.”
I should be embarrassed. Should be overwhelmed. But all I feel is an overwhelming heat, pooling from the area between my legs and spreading rapidly throughout my body. He kneads my left breast hard, his thumb grazing my aching nipple.
“Say something, baby,” he murmurs raggedly, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me to stop. Or tell me to keep going.”
Again, he’s giving me control. The realization floors me.
I don’t hesitate. “Don’t stop.”
I barely get the words out before his mouth is on mine again, hard. Possessive. He pushes my shirt higher, and I raise my hands so he can easily pull it off. He gently sets it aside, then removes my bra as well, his eyes feasting greedily on my body.
“Damn, Eleanor. You’re gorgeous.”
Heat flares up in my cheeks, my stomach tightening at the raw lust in his eyes. I grab the hem of his shirt and pull. He lets me, watching me, waiting for me to make the move. And when I finally tug the fabric over his head, when I see the ridges of his muscles, the scars and tattoos inked into his skin, my mouth goes dry.
He’s beautiful in a way that’s dangerous. In a way that ruins whatever naivety I have left in me. I let my fingers trace the scars along his ribs, the muscles flexing beneath my touch. His breathhitches, his eyes locked onto mine, and I feel my heart swell with emotions I can’t begin to define.
I lean in, pressing my lips against one of the scars, and his whole body goes tight. Then, suddenly, he pushes me back against the cold exam table, climbing up over my body and gazing down at me, his eyes roving my face with a savage need. We’re aligned, his body resting between my spread thighs, his erection pressing against my core through our pants. I raise my hips to grind against him.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters roughly, leaning down to brush his lips against mine. “Eleanor…”
My name on his lips sounds like a desperate whisper, a song of salvation. I let out a soft sigh as another shiver racks my body. I want more. More of him. All of him. Maybe I can’t take it. Maybe I’ll regret it later. But in this moment, I want everything he’s willing to give.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down, pressing my lips to his ear. “Stop holding back, Ronan,” I whisper. “I want all of you.”
A shudder spreads through his body, and I literally feel his control snap. His fingers dig into my hips as he yanks me against him, his lips crashing onto mine. This time, there’s no hesitation, no gentleness—only raw, aching need.
I whimper against his mouth, and he growls, his hands sliding down my stomach to my pants. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull my pants and underwear down my legs and toss them aside before his gaze drops to my exposed skin.
I’m completely bare before him, and the way he looks at me…God.
Like he’s starving.
Like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
I feel my cheeks flush, but the heat in his eyes burns away my shyness.
He reaches out, running his fingers down my stomach in slow, reverent strokes. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud.
My heart skips.
I don’t feel perfect. I never have. But somehow, I believe him. He pushes me back onto the exam table, his weight settling over me again, pressing me down in the best way. My legs bracket his hips, and when he grinds against me, I gasp, my fingers digging into his skin.
