Page 143 of His Ruthless Match
Without warning, he swept me off the chair and onto the desk. The movement scattered a couple of pens and a notepad onto the floor. My breath hitched at the cold wood beneath my thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat coursing through me.
He trailed kisses along my jaw, then down the column of my neck. I tilted my head back, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The sensation of his mouth against my skin, the silk taut around my wrists and my hands tied behind my back was almost too much. My senses flooded with each press of his lips, each gentle nibble that left me arching closer to him.
“Jareth…”
“Say that again,” he demanded.
“Jareth,” I repeated, heat flaring in my belly at the intensity in his gaze.
His only response was a low rumble of approval. Then he lifted me off the desk entirely, his arms bracketing my thighs. I could feel his body’s heat through his clothes, could feel each subtle shift of his muscles. My bound wrists pressing against his strong arms, reminding me again how much control I’d relinquished.
He set me on my feet in the narrow hallway leading toward the bedroom, my back against the wall. Jareth glanced at the shadows, then back at me.
He brushed the back of his hand over my cheek. “You’re trembling.”
I parted my lips to protest, to tell him I wasn’t afraid, but the words got lost when he moved closer. One of his hands cupped my face, the other gripped my hip, holding me in place. The next kiss tore away whatever remained of my hesitation. No gentle exploration this time—the press of his mouth was demanding, urgent. I yielded, letting the wave of arousal and reckless desire carry me.
“This damn shirt is getting in the way,” he whispered into my ear. He raked his hands over my breasts and to my stomach, barely lifting the hem of my shirt. “I could easily take care of this with one rip.”
That turned me on more than I’d thought it would. I didn’t give a fuck about my damn shirt. I nodded, giving him permission.
Jareth partially shifted so fast I didn’t even see it happen. He used his claws to rip my shirt from my body, then shifted fully back to his human form. He continued kissing my neck, grabbing my ass, as he made me walk backward.
By the time we reached the bedroom, my knees were weak. Jareth turned the knob with a single backward motion of his hand, then nudged me inside. He guided me to the edge of the bed, helping me sit. He untied my wrists and rubbed my arms.
“You okay?” he asked, a rare softness in his tone.
I nodded. My heart pounded, but no part of me wanted him to stop. “Yes.”
He quickly tied my hands again, this time in front of me.
The next few moments passed in a whirlwind of touch and sensation. He lifted my chin, brought his mouth to mine again—slower this time, as though savoring my taste. I moaned into the kiss, needing more, needing all of him. I became acutely aware that I was still wearing my bra. Jareth’s fingers found the strap, tracing the line of it before sliding beneath to undo the clasp. He slipped the bra away until the straps were around my wrists, his gaze never leaving mine. The reverence in his eyes made me shiver.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said. Those three words made warmth flood my chest. It was more than just lust in his tone. There was admiration, maybe even respect.
He guided me to lie down, easing me back until I felt the mattress beneath me. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, then my collarbone, his lips trailing down my body in a slow journey that ignited my skin. Each touch of his lips and hands imprinted on my memory, as though I were cataloging every moment to revisit later.
My mind flickered briefly to the man I’d known Jareth to be—intense, sarcastic, fiercely protective—and marveled at how quickly we’d come to this. Something primal simmered in him, matched by my own awakened desire. I exhaled his name like a plea.
“Yes, Eva?” he murmured, lifting his head just enough to meet my eyes.
I hesitated, uncertain of what I needed. Finally, I whispered, “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
Jareth’s fingers slid down my sides to the waistband of my jeans. “I don’t think you need this, do you?”
I shook my head and moaned quietly as Jareth undid the button and zipper and peeled the denim off my legs. My thong came next, and he held the slip of lace to his face and inhaled deeply. “I can’t get enough of your scent. It drives me fucking insane. Which reminds me… I equally enjoy the way you taste.”
Before I could have a moment of feeling shy or hesitant, Jareth moved down my body until his breath was hot on my center. His tongue shot out and grazed my clit, and my hips jerked involuntarily. Flashing me a wicked grin, he closed his lips around me and sucked hard. I gasped and arched into him, feeling the familiar burn building in my core.
“Jareth,” I cried out. He chuckled around my clit, his tongue dancing even as his hands roamed my body.
“You taste so good,” he murmured against my skin, trailing kisses down to my entrance. “So fucking wet and ready for me.” He pressed a light kiss there, sending shivers down my spine.
“Don’t stop,” I moaned, unable to help myself. He slid two fingers inside me, stretching me slowly but surely. I gasped at the intrusion, but found myself wanting more. He pumped his fingers in and out of me in a slow rhythm that had me squirming beneath him.
His other hand came to rest on my bound wrists, pinning them to my bare stomach. “Give me your trust, Eva.”
