Page 8 of Seven Nights

Confident that I’m not going anywhere, Montgomery straightens. With a soft touch on the underside of my chin, he tilts my head back and continues to search for the final pin holding my bun in place.

“You learned of the mind’s effect on the body, no doubt.” Finding the third pin, a smile lights his face.

He eases it out, tosses the piece of metal onto the desk then runs his fingers through the thick locks. His hand wraps around the base of my skull, forcing me to keep looking up, trapped by more than his strength as our gazes lock.

“You learned how to steel your mind against gut churning pain, how to force your body not to stop, not to throw up.”

I try to pull to the opposite side, twist my head and shake off his grip. Part of me knows I can swing my arm up, impacting his elbow to loosen his hold. I have practiced the move hundreds of times, taught it to other women. But I can’t unclench my fingers from the armrest.

“So think, Kate. Did the mugging arouse you?”

“You sick bas—”

A dangerous smile whips across his face. I close my mouth and swallow.

“There’s no point in being angry over biology,” he purrs. “Men are violent creatures. Women are often our targets. Through millennia, the rule never changes—kill a man, take his woman. Your body is weaker by design. It has to find other ways to protect itself. That’s why there are so many soaked panties at boxing matches and football games. We do something violent and you reward us with wet pussies.”

He dips his head close to mine, his nose pointed down as he takes a long, slow breath in to drive home his point.

“That’s why your pussy is wet now. It’s why your panties were soaked in the limo.”

Taking a step back, he lets go of my head, his fingers combing the hair into place around my shoulders before he stares into my eyes again.

“It’s why you are going to sign the contract.”

He steps behind the chair, slowly pushes it forward until my knees butt against the desk. His broad chest presses against my shoulders as he pulls the pen and paper within my reach.

Montgomery’s lips brush my ear. “You don’t understand yourself right now, do you?”

I don’t want to, but I shake my head, the motion discreet but definitely there, definitely something he cannot miss as my hair brushes his cheek.

“Sign and I will teach you.”

This time the shake is harder, defiant. Tightening my grip on the armrests, I push up.

His hands land on my shoulders, his leverage and strength too much for me. Caressing his way down my arm, Montgomery wraps his fingers around my hand and places it on the desk next to the pen.

Lifting my hair to the side, he brushes his lips along the curve of my neck. A shiver runs through me. He must feel it because he groans and reaches over my shoulder to cup my breast. Beneath the crisp linen shirt and bra, my nipples purse and pout with need.

Squeezing my swollen flesh, he kisses my neck again. He thumbs one nipple, the simple sensation dragging a moan from me. My flesh, already as tingling and wet as he has accused, turns to an insistent throb between my legs. Chewing at my lip, I try to control the squirm of my ass, try to stop the burning need.

I fail.

Griffin

I watchas Katelyn fights her desire. She is throwing off plenty of indicators that she wants to sign. Her skin flushes a pale pink and she keeps sucking and biting at her lower lip. Inside her blouse, her nipples tent the fabric. The faintest brush of my hand across one sensitive tip makes her gasp with need.

Yet she still won’t pick up the damn pen and sign.

Fine, no rule saying I have to play fair. I suck the lobe of her ear into my mouth as I curl a hand across the top of her thigh and give a firm squeeze.

“I promise,” I whisper. “You won’t miss the parts of you I break.”

She replies with the same moan that heated the air in my limo. My cock aches from the sound. Impatient now, I grab her out of the chair and roughly plant her ass on the desk.

She tries to slide away from me. I pull her closer, spread her legs and fill the space with my lower torso. My thighs press at hers, my cock pushes against her mound, the fabric of our clothing an ineffective barrier to the exchange of heat between our bodies.

Kate has no idea how much I know about her. A cruel and overbearing father, a mentally unstable mother. The adjectives apply equally to her childhood and mine. But for some reason, it is clear she never stopped loving her mom.

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