Page 58 of Chain Me
I swallowed hard at the dangerous shift in his tone. “She was just trying to help me.”
Judging from the stern tilt of his mouth, he did not agree.
“She risked drawing attention to you. Good intentioned or not, she put your life in danger. As long as you wore the talisman, I could sense your location, so I knew you were in no immediate harm at least.” He fingered the necklace in question. “But when you suddenly wound up in an area of the city where I know Raphael exerts his influence, I followed. Only to discover your meeting with Gabriel Lanic and…” His grip on me tightened, applying even more pressure against my hand. “I refuse to let you pretend like you don’t see what the whole damn world has. What it’s mocked me for,” he warned. “That you haven’t felt every inch of it slammed inside you. If anyone is playing a game here, it isn’t me. Goddamn, a part of me wonders if you somehow planned it, if only to make me out to be a fool…” He flicked his wrist, forcing me to feel more of him. All of him, swelling against my hand. “So, no, Eleanor, I’m afraid your supposed innocence isn’t a fair enough excuse.” He released me, shrugging my presence aside as he started to stand again. “Now that we’ve gotten that established—”
“Then why leave in the first place?” I demanded, eyeing my hand. It burned and the fingers were trembling, impossible to control. “If you want me so damn much then why leave at all? And don’t use Georgiana as your excuse. You don’t take orders from anyone.”
The fact that he would return merely to exert his control over my life in something as trivial as medical records proved that fact.
“Why?” He paused and his eyes flashed as if the question required serious contemplation. “Perhaps I don’t enjoy being at the mercy of a woman who would sooner spend eternity with her cat as a companion than admit her attraction to me?”
“Attraction?” I whispered hoarsely.
He chuckled and began to rise to his feet. “We once established that you’ve learned more than a few tidbits on sexuality from romance novels. Use that knowledge to draw upon what might cause a woman to become wet—”
“S-Stop.” Plush carpet cradled my knees as I sank to the floor, all modesty forgotten. If he wanted to play tricks, then I’d sink to his level. Prove it once and for all—he was lying.
“You use sex like it’s a game,” I blurted. “Like the whole damn world knows the rules when only you do. You kiss me when you want to. Leave me when you want to. But I’m the one at fault? Even now… You’re trying to confuse me for a reason,” I decided, shaking my head. “You always throw sex in my face just to manipulate me. You did it at the auction, and in the cathedral, and when you came back.”
Each time he had taunted me with a taste of desire.
Only to yank it back the second it suited him.
Even now.
“You’re saying these things because you know you can turn the tables,” I said.
He didn’t move, his gaze impossible to read. “So what will you do now, Eleanor? Run away. Make me hunt you down. Pretend I was always the monster?”
“No.” My hands fell over his thighs and hesitation paralyzed me for a heartbeat. Until he tensed beneath me, still seated. God, I could almost hear him hissing a dare.Do something, Eleanor. But don’t fool yourself. You lack the nerve.
“I want to prove it to myself once and for all. You’re lying and I’m not afraid to face the truth this time.” Biting my lip, I tugged at the fastenings of his pants to no avail. My hands shook too badly to undo them, but he didn’t laugh and shrug me off. He tugged the zipper down himself, his eyes slits, conveying confusion and a warning.
You’re playing with fire.
But I was too tired to heed it. I lowered my mouth instead, flinching as his fingers latched onto my scalp. He started to tug, but his grip went slack the second my tongue connected with the silken flesh beneath the cotton of his pants.
Such a vulgar act. I had only ever performed it once before in my entire life.
Only ever with him.
Yet nothing could compare to the feel of it. Having him at my mercy. Exploring his body far beyond physical touch. I could taste him, spice and winter. I could feel him, hard and unmoving. Thickening. Thicker.
And I knew in an instant that I had made a horrible miscalculation.
He didn’t shrug me off the way some prudish part of me insisted he would. The smug, confident Dublin Helos wouldneversurrender an argument due to such a base impulse.
And yet, I could hear him growling with every tentative flick of my tongue. Soon, he began to buck into every taste, betraying a lack of restraint that made my breathing hitch in anticipation. When his fingers cinched a fistful of my hair, I nearly sighed in relief. I’d won. His rejection would prove it. I all but hissed in triumph as his opposite hand latched onto the nape of my neck—but the touch wasn’t resisting. His fingers clamped down,restraining, as if to prevent me from pulling away.
And for whatever reason, I didn’t…
My eyelids fluttered as my tongue lapped along the crown of him. His blood was addicting, but this was an even more potent drug.Power,however briefly it lasted. There was something terrible in his taste. A flavor that made a groan catch in my throat and my stomach clench. Something too elusive to name—I could only chase it, gradually taking more and more of him into my mouth.
All I could.
Dazed, I made the mistake of looking up, seeing him stare down on me, his eyes slits, his jaw so tight that it could have been chiseled from stone.
It was like that very first night. Something shot between us, hot like fire. Electric. Suddenly, he flexed his grip, wrenching me upright. Up, onto his lap. Cupping my knee in his opposite hand, he spread my legs apart, forcing me to straddle him completely. There was no mistaking what pressed against my inner thighs now, pulsing against the fabric of my dress.
