XXX - 145 Enslave: The Taming of the Beast Read Online Free PDF Page B

found her reticence enticing. The international visa agent who helped send her family to the United States had been American, and much more gentle—he’d actually taken some finessing. Still, he’d overlooked her lackluster performance, assuming that he was in fact an excellent lover and that her overdramatic cries of passion were real.
Her few lovers had meant well, but by that time she’d been too used to playing a role to insist on her own enjoyment. She couldn’t get out of her head. They were usually done before she could manage an orgasm of her own, and she didn’t mind. In fact, she encouraged their speed. She frowned. That was probably why no one had touched her in a year.
She smoothed her hands down the wet-slick planes of her body. Remembering his hands on her. His mouth.
Her body tingled, making the hot water seem cool compared to her suddenly feverish flesh. Her stomach clenched, and her hand closed over her breasts, then lower, her finger tips hovering over the sensitive flesh between her thighs. The way he’d stroked her, bringing her to a frenzy…she bit her lip against a silent moan of remembrance.
He threatened to kill your family .
Her hand dropped away, and she felt a surge of nauseous guilt. She reached out, turning the water’s spray to cold. The icy droplets felt like slaps of punishment for her traitorous thoughts. When she got herself under control, she got out of the shower shivering, and wrapped herself in one of the thick Turkish-cotton towels.
It was as close to clothing as she was going to get. Making a makeshift sarong, she headed for the door, trying the handle gingerly. To her surprise, it was unlocked.
She stepped out into a long hallway. There were doors all around her, including one at the end of the hallway. She needed to find an exit, not another room. She headed for the open end. The lower ceiling opened to a cathedral-vaulted living room, replete with a huge gray-slate fireplace and a latticework of large, sturdy wooden beams. It looked architectural, simple, clean. Masculine, like her suite, yet subtly artistic.
Obviously, he’d lavished a lot of time and money on this place. Or someone had.
He’s not going to just let you waltz out of here. He wants something. Find out what he wants .
He’d enjoyed the sex—then he’d gotten angry. Why? She couldn’t remember doing anything wrong…except maybe enjoying it. She felt a blush blossom over her face, down her throat, across her exposed chest.
She’d touched him, she remembered.
No. She’d touched his scars .
Her eyes narrowed. His appearance. He’d made oblique comments about it before. He obviously had problems with it. But he’d enjoyed the sex with her, enough to let his guard down. She’d just have to seduce him—see if she could get him to forget about his disfigurement for a while. Personally, she didn’t think his looks were so horrible, especially once she got used to it.
Of course, he could look like an ogre: the way he’d touched her, kissed her…
“I told you to be naked.”
She gasped, spinning toward the deep voice behind her. She bumped into Dominic. How could he be so damned silent?
He reached out, his knuckles grazing her breasts as he released the tucked end of the towel. The cloth pooled at her feet, and for a moment she fought the urge to cover herself with her hands. Instead, she stared up at him, directly into his eyes. They were more gray than blue this morning. If, presumably, it was morning. Apparently the man did not believe in clocks.
“That’s better,” he said, and his eyes blazed as he surveyed her, starting with her feet and moving slowly upward. She could feel his stare like a velvet glove, smoothing over her flesh. Her nipples tightened as his gaze lingered there for a long moment. His eyes widened in response.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, then bit her lip. She’d meant to ask something more submissive and coaxing— what can I do for you? But he’d caught her off