Page 46 of Blood and Lies (A Twisted Duet 1)

“How chivalrous of you, allowing me to enter my prison first.”

“It’s not chivalrous. It’s called manners.”

“Now, there’s something you don’t see every day. A kidnapper with manners.”

Two strong hands grabbed my shoulders, pushing me forward and shoving me on the bed.

“You need to learn your place, little mouse.”

With a jerk, he twisted me onto my back and straddled me. My arms and legs flailed, trying to fight him and punch him, anything to protect myself from him.

“Get off me!”

His thighs squeezed tighter, holding me in place just as his hands gripped both my wrists. With a hard jerk, he pinned my hands above my head, black eyes fixed on mine.

“That smart mouth of yours is going to get you killed.”

“You plan on killing me anyway.”

“Well, your snarky remarks sure aren’t buying you any fucking time, I can guarantee you that.”

I squirmed beneath him, pulling my arms as hard as I could, trying to get free.

“Stop moving, Tatum.” He tightened his grip and pushed his body harder down on mine. “Your fight is doing nothing but turning me on.”

My squirming ceased, my heart stammered, and like a fucking light switch my body went from rigid fear to burning desire.

I swallowed, and his gaze caught the movement. “Did you enjoy it? When I had my fingers buried inside you, making you come?”

“No.”

“Liar.” A smug grin appeared on his face, drawing all my attention to his lips. “Even though I’m sure that’s probably the best orgasm you’ve had in your life so far, you’re still not fully satisfied, are you?”

Taking both my wrists in one hand, he brought the other down to where the towel was tied above my breasts, and he licked his lips as he started to loosen it.

“Your body wants so much more. It needs to be fully used and utterly fucked, doesn’t it?”

I gave another jerk, more squirming in an attempt to at least look like I hated him having me restrained, when in fact, my body relished it.

His dark eyes remained on my chest as he pushed the towel to the side, my nipples hard and already sensitive, craving his touch.

I glared up at him, lifting my chin. “Whatever my body wants, I can promise it’s not you.” It was such a lie. The lack of conviction in my voice was proof of that.

His grin spread even wider. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Oh God.

Slowly, torturously he dragged his finger down between my breasts, over my middle, leaving a trail of burning flesh in its wake. Every inch of flesh he touched sent bolts of electricity straight down between my thighs, and I knew exactly what he would find if his fingers continued their voyage south.

Lifting himself an inch to the side, his hand dipped between us. All I could do was give another jerk, another tug in a bid to fight the hankering and the yearning, the anticipation of his touch, but it was no use.

The second he cupped me between my legs, my head fell back, my eyes rolling closed as the most intense sexual need flared up with such force it possessed me completely. As one finger slipped through my slit, my body shuddered and my hips bucked shamelessly, wanting more.

“Like I said”—he pushed his finger inside me and I moaned—“your body can’t lie to me.”

Then his finger was gone, and he lifted himself off me, leaving my body screaming and yelling and swearing while my mind went blank with relief.

I didn’t move. I just stared up at the ceiling, trying to get the fire in my belly under control.

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