Page 108 of Ruthless Scoundrel
“Let me forget what’s at stake for a moment and enjoy you,” I say, rubbing my thumb below the swell of her breast.
She breaks into a sly grin. “What if I don’t want to?”
I grab her wrist and push her hand toward her waist. “Stick your hand between your legs and prove it.”
“I won’t,” she says, chin lifted in defiance, but there’s a playfulness in her eyes.
She’s bratting for me.
I capture her hands and hold both in one of mine as I walk her back toward the bed. “I suppose I’ll have to find out for myself, won’t I?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, and suddenly I realize I’m in murky territory.
If she truly didn’t want me to, of course I wouldn’t. But we’re playing a game, aren’t we?
I release her hands. “If you want me to stop, you can say so at any time.”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t want you to stop. I was just trying to play to your very particular tastes.”
I smile. “Bratty princess on her knees.”
“Chained up, too. We’ll have to get the manacles out,” she says, guiding my hand back to hers. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say ‘dark.’”
I scowl. “Why that?”
“Because I’m your sunshine. You wouldn’t want to snuff me out, would you?”
I cup her cheek and run my thumb along her bottom lip. “No, I wouldn’t.”
She nibbles on my finger, but then her eyes turn wild and she bites. I growl and restrain her hands as I push her down to the bed.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I say.
She licks her lips. “You told me to save it for the bedroom.”
“I did, didn’t I?” I push her legs apart and settle between them. She wiggles like she’s trying to resist me, but her hips push up against mine with desire.
I unhook the manacles from my belt with the other hand and clamp them around Reina’s wrists, then loop the chain over the post of the headboard. She could easily remove herself from the situation if she wanted to, but it gives the illusion of detention.
“What now, tough guy?” she asks.
I run my finger down the soft skin of her inner arm. “Now I’m going to torture you.”
“I’ve been trained to withstand torture,” she says, and while I know we’re still playing a game, I think she’s telling the truth.
“I’m not sure you’ve been trained to withstandthisparticular brand of torture,” I say, dragging my finger from her shoulder to her collarbone. Her pulse is already fast, blood flooding her cheeks and sensitive areas.
I sit back on my heels and admire her. Heavy breaths make her chest swell, pushing her peaked nipples against her cotton shirt. The position of her arms has the shirt pulled up at the bottom, revealing a strip of her tanned stomach. I trace my finger from one hip to the other, stopping only to circle her perfect little belly button.
She twitches and giggles. “Tickle torture? You’re right, I wasn’t trained for this.”
I run my finger across her stomach again, lighter this time, then follow with my lips. I plant open-mouthed kisses along her warm skin and she sighs. Her pants slide down easily until I’m palming her bare ass. But I pull her pants down only to mid-thigh, trapping her legs together and making it impossible for her to grab me.
I kiss lower, sucking on the soft, lighter skin of her pelvis. She lifts her hips with a pleading whine that makes me chuckle.
“We haven’t even started,” I say, tracing the V of her sex with a finger.
She plants her butt firmly back down onto my palm, pinning it to the mattress. “I can take it,” she whispers to herself.
