so damned good. That heated, slow rub against her, stroking her clit, sending bursts of incredible sensation ratcheting through her.
She had known over the years that this was coming. At the first opportunity. The moment he touched her, the very second they found themselves hidden from curious gazes. She had known this would happen. That the need and the hunger would rage out of control.
“Why?” squeaky, weak, her voice was nothing as it should have been. It didn’t sound determined or confident as it usually did. And it sure as hell didn’t sound independent and strong.
Swallowing tightly she tried again.
“Why are you here? Where’s Khalid?”
She tightened her fingers against the hold he had on her wrists, though she found herself stopping short of actually straining against his hold. After all, if she protested too loudly, or struggled too much, he might actually let her go.
“Khalid and Marty are with her parents.” Deep, dark, she swore she actually trembled as he spoke. “They are completing the plans for your protection.”
Her protection? Right now, all she needed protection from was the brilliant heat she was helpless against.
“He should be here.” Oh man, she was dying here. She could feel her blood racing, her flesh heating, her clit throbbing harder in demand with each second.
The longer she lay there beneath him, the more she wanted him. The more she wanted the sensations, the pleasure she had only had the briefest taste of eight years before.
“Should he be?” His fingers tightened, then relaxed against her hip a second before his palm cupped it, shifting her, moving her against his thigh. “I think at this moment, it’s a very good thing that he isn’t here. Wouldn’t you say?”
A flash of fire streaked through her pussy, clenched the tightened muscles and almost stole her breath. Pleasure raged through her body, but it was a painful pleasure, an achy, needing-so-much-more sensation type of pleasure that it weakened her knees and had her breathing in roughly.
“He kidnapped me,” she breathed out roughly. “I’m going to kick his ass.”
“Go right ahead,” he murmured. “When he arrives. Until then, I believe it might be time to see if your lips are as soft and as sweet as they appear to be. If they are anywhere as sweet as that hot, luscious little pussy I cannot forget the taste of.”
Her entire body clenched in excitement at the declaration.
Then his head lowered.
Paige felt her lashes drift close, lips remaining parted, breath suspended as his lips brushed against the edge of her face, sending a rush of exquisite pleasure washing through her again.
“You’re trying to distract me,” she accused him roughly. “I’m not going to let you do it. Khalid owes me explanations, Abram.”
He owed her. She owed herself. She couldn’t let him do this to her or once he was gone, there would be nothing left of her.
“He’s protecting you,” he stated, though his voice sounded rougher, more strained as his lips moved to her ear, his breath stroking across the shell as he spoke. “You’re in danger, Paige, you should have guessed that by now.”
In danger of screaming in need. Of begging for his touch. Of whimpering with the painful hunger she couldn’t control.
“Guessed what?” She hoped he didn’t actually expect her to be able to think at the moment, because it wasn’t happening. But she couldn’t imagine a single reason why she would be in danger.
Unless it was in danger of dying of arousal. As of this moment, that was definitely a consideration. In all her adult years she had never felt this way with another man, had never ached or lost her breath, or felt on fire as she did now. And never had she been so certain she may lose herself in another person.
“That you’re in danger.” There was a thread of amusement in his voice now, the knowledge of it sweeping through her with the same force the hunger had swept through her moments
Janwillem van de Wetering