Page 11 of Scarlet Mark
I wasn’t expectingthat.
Most men in my history seemed to have missed Kissing 101.
But not Killian.
No, he knew what he was doing and proceeded to prove it by staking his claim inside my mouth. A moan slid from my chest of its own accord, causing his grip to tighten.
I moved closer, placing my heated center over his arousal. It served as a way to take back my role, to own him, yet somehow I ended up being the one wanting more, to press myself into him.
God, this was fucked up.
He had a knife to my side, and Iwantedhim. Hell, part of me even liked it.
Focus, Amara, I told myself.He’s fucking with you.
I ran my nails up and down his torso, delighting in the hard planes beneath his black dress shirt. His buttons loosened easily, my fingers trained in the art of removing clothing. He hissed in a breath as I touched his bare skin, my palms running over his pectorals and abdominal muscles with ease.
Why do you have to be my enemy?I wondered, almost sad. Because exploring his body with my tongue would be an enjoyment, an escape from my otherwise cruel life.
Alas, this was a required task, one I needed to accomplish to survive.
I broke our kiss, drifting my lips over his defined cheekbones to his ear, his dark strands soft against my nose. “Have I changed your mind yet?” I asked, nipping his earlobe.
“Not even close,” he replied, his voice husky with want. “When I told you to use your mouth, I meant around my cock.”
I smiled. “I know.” I licked down to his pulse, testing the rhythm again. Slightly elevated, but mostly steady.Not my typical target. He posed a challenge that excited my instincts and had my legs clenching around his hips.
His cock felt like heaven between my thighs, so hot and heavy, and oh, the scrap of lace did nothing to contain my responding arousal.
I want him.
And wasn’t that insane? To desire a man in these conditions, a man who wanted to give me back to a monster. But I learned to accept my less-than-conventional proclivities years ago. It was what allowed me to be, well, me.
I drew a slow path along his collarbone, licking and tasting and nibbling his smooth, tan skin. Mmm, he was delicious. Hard. Warm. Male.
“Are you going to your knees, Amara?” His voice held a rough quality that skated across my skin, scattering goose bumps down my arms. Definitely a man used to being in charge in every way. My kryptonite.
My gaze lifted to his as I licked a trail downward between his impressive pecs, my thighs sliding slowly across his legs. The blade moved with me, gliding upward along my ribs, his pupils engulfing his irises.
His grip on my neck tightened, halting my movements as I reached the base of his sternum. And the knife lifted to my throat, the razor edge a clear threat against my sensitive skin.
“Don’t test me, darling. You might be worth more alive, but I will hurt you if you hurt me.”
“Worried I might bite?” I teased, smiling. “Or worried I won’t?”
Intrigue darkened his features. “Oh, you’re definitely playing a dangerous game.”
“What’s life without a little excitement?” I countered, licking my lips. “And you’re the one who told me to use my mouth.”
“Indeed I did.” He released my neck, but the blade remained. “Continue if you dare.”
Oh, I dare.
And you’ll regret ever challenging me.
I almost felt bad. Not that I should. He took a job for Malcom Jenkins. Anyone who worked for that man deserved their fate.
Including what I had planned.
