Page 44 of Bought
I whimper against his lips, a sound of surrender I don’t choose to make, and his hand tightens in my hair, pulling until the sting sharpens the pleasure. His other hand flattens against my lower back, pulling me flush against him.
I gasp at the heat of his body, at the solid wall of muscle and strength pressing into me. I think of the scars underneath his shirt, and I feel even closer. My mind screams that it's wrong, dangerous, too much, but my body doesn’t listen.
My body arches closer.
When his mouth leaves mine, he trails kisses down my jaw to the frantic pulse pounding in my throat. His teeth graze my skin, and I shudder so hard my nails dig into his shoulders.
“You still taste the same,” he mutters, vibrating against my neck. “It’s a taste I could never forget.”
His hand slides lower, over the curve of my ass, gripping hard enough to make me whimper again. He lifts me, sudden and effortless, and my legs wrap around his waist before I can stop them.
No one has ever held me like this, kissed me like this. I thought such moments only happened in movies; he’s more real than anything.
We collide with the brick wall by the door, his weight pinning me there, his kiss deepening, devouring. His hips press into mine, and I feel the hard evidence of his arousal.
Heat coils low in my belly, molten and insistent. I want this so badly. I want to know what that erection feels like with him over me, staring down at me as he comes inside me.
Gently, he eases me down, my feet touching the ground again. His hands slide down, gripping my hips. He ends the kiss, pulling just far enough away to challenge me with his words.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” his mouth hovering a beat away.
There’s no way I can turn away the man I haven’t stopped thinking about since the moment I laid eyes on him. A man who made sure I was warm, who kept us from going too fast, and who couldn’t stop thinking about me.
He even came to my door to find me.
“I can’t.”
His wicked smirk plays on my lips before he kisses me again—harder, slower—like he’s savoring my surrender. All I want is to be in his arms, to do everything with him, to explore all the mysteries my body hasn’t yet uncovered but has been craving.
For a moment, the world narrows down to his possessive mouth and hands on me. He pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine. His words are ragged as he says my name, “Erin…” like a confession.
I search his eyes, those storm-dark depths that always promise ruin, and in this moment, I know only one thing is sure.
I don’t think I can betray him.
Can I find another way?
Working with the Morettis is a one-time thing: favor for a favor, then Cass, Ryan, and I move on.
“There are people I want you to meet,” he says.
“People?”
Reaching up, he brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “I just came from their place. Spent the night there last night so I could clear my mind after I sent you home. I’m going back there tonight. I thought you could come.”
“People?” I cough. “Your people?”
“Yes. For dinner.”
People.
Shit.
Bambi Moretti is in that apartment, just a few meters from Lucian Bachman.
Did I even shut the door? “I’m sorry I’d invite you in, but it’s a mess.” I quickly turn to check behind me, but a little boy is standing in the frame.
Ryan stares up at Lucian. “Are we coming, too?”
