She tightened in his arms, fighting to pull back, to hold on to that measure of control. She shifted, mind and body, pulled on her training, on what she had become. She would give him the illusion she gave everyone else.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He bit her shoulder. Bit her. Again. “Do you think it’s that easy? That I’ll let you draw back now? By God, I won’t take the Chameleon. I’ll have the woman.”
“Please.” She shook her head, her upper body falling back to the bed, leaving her rear up, her pussy open to him as he pounded inside her. “Ian. I’m . . .” She was what? Scared? Lost? “Please . . .”
“I have you, Kira.” He came over her, his voice thick now as the sensations began to build to cataclysmic levels. She heard the restraint in him though, and ached for it. Heard the regret that shadowed the dominance she knew he was capable of displaying. “I’m right here. Just come for me, baby. Give it to me. Give it all to me.”
She was helpless. Bound, both physically and mentally, and she knew it. She was lost.
When the second orgasm came, she didn’t bother fighting it. She screamed, crashed, jerked in his arms, and felt the muscles of her pussy clench violently on the suddenly throbbing length of his cock.
He had thought to use a condom? At least he had a brain. She could hear his release in his shattered groan, in the jerky thrusts, the throb of his erection, but she didn’t feel the wetness of his semen.
For a wild moment, she regretted that. Wanted it. For one impossible, insane moment, Kira wanted things she knew she should have never considered. Had never considered before in her life. She wanted more than just the sex. And she wanted more than the restraint that tightened his body despite his release.
She wanted all of him. She wanted to defy that hard-won control that held him back, that kept a tight rein on the obvious hungers he was denying himself. She wanted to challenge him and feel him meeting her head-on.
She wasn’t a submissive, but a part of her was dying to submit. To meet his dominance head-on, to push at the boundaries he had set, and to weave herself as firmly around his soul as she knew he was weaving around hers.
Eight
IAN RELEASED KIRA SLOWLY FROM the filmy lengths of material that hung along the side of the bed. The thin panel he had used bound her wrists, holding her body in place for him, something he doubted Kira had tried often.
He ran his hand along her back, clenched his teeth and merely caressed the rounded globes of her rear rather than watching them blush, hearing her scream as she found more pleasure in an erotic spanking than she could imagine, and feeling her come apart as she found the threshold between that pleasure and pain.
There were so many ways he wanted to touch her, fuck her. So many things he could do to her body that would leave her shaking, gasping his name, immersed in a pleasure he knew she had never reached before.
She was a strong woman, there was no doubt. But he knew her strength and he knew the hungers that even she didn’t understand herself. And he knew that sexual, independent creature inside her was dying to defy the dominance he kept tightly leashed.
She was collapsed beneath him now, on her stomach, her head buried in the pillow as she fought for breath.
Ian straightened the filmy panels then rose and discarded the condom he wore before stretching out beside her in the bed.
A dumb move, he told himself as he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. A really dumb move, because she felt so right. She felt as though she belonged against his chest and in his arms. She fit him, and damn if that knowledge didn’t rock his soul all over again.
“We have reports that Sorrell is becoming irritated with your defiance of him,” she said as one hand smoothed over his chest. “You’re encouraging the smaller cartels to defy him as well. He’ll strike against you soon.”
“I’m not discussing Sorrell with you, Kira.” Ian stared at the ceiling through the diaphanous material that stretched across the canopy frame above. “I’m not discussing any of this with you.”
“I’m here to help you, Ian.” Irritation colored her voice as she lifted her head to stare back at him. “I have my own sources I can work. You’re fighting a very dangerous man. Don’t throw away an opportunity to gain any advantage you can.”
“You being the advantage?” He let his hand smooth over the fall of hair that caressed his chest now. Her hair was softer than silk and warm enough to comfort a man on a cold winter night.
“I’m a hell of an asset.” There was no ego there, it was simply the truth and Ian knew it. She was a hell of an asset.
“This is my fight.” And he didn’t want her anywhere close to the danger he knew was coming. “I’ll take care of Sorrell.”
He would identify him, and if he couldn’t kill him then he would walk away and allow others to do it. Either way, when the game was up, he didn’t want Kira anywhere close to the violence that would ensue.
“I want you on a plane out of here, this week,” he told her then, meeting her gaze as he allowed the tips of his fingers to caress the gentle curve of her cheek. “Go back to the States and forget about this.”
Her smile was a soft curve of sorrow. “Do you really think I’m going to do that? I’ve found in the last months that I would do a lot for you, Ian. But I won’t do that.”
“That isn’t your fight.”
“I’ve made it my fight.”
Where in the hell had she developed all this stubbornness? She was the most intractable woman he had ever met. She didn’t argue, she didn’t scream or yell. She stated intentions and then followed through. He knew that. Besides what he had learned of her in Atlanta, his investigation into her had yielded the proof of it.
“I won’t come back here,” he told her then. “Tonight won’t exist after dawn arrives, and it won’t happen again.”
She shook her head, causing her hair to ripple over the muscles of his chest and his taut abdomen.
“It may not. I hear you’re a man of your word. But I’m not leaving Aruba until I finish what I came to do.”
“Which is?” Frustration colored his voice. “What the hell do you think you can accomplish here?”
“I can watch your back and gather the information you need from the sources you can’t access as the Fuentes heir. That’s my mission and I won’t leave until this is over. You can make my job easy, or you can make it hard. It’s your choice.” She lowered her head as she spoke, allowing her lips to caress his shoulder, her fingers to knead the bunched muscles of his biceps.