Home > Guilty Pleasure (Bound Hearts #11)(13)

Guilty Pleasure (Bound Hearts #11)(13)
Author: Lora Leigh

"You didn't mention you were going out this evening, love." Khalid spoke from the shadows of the trees, stepping just close enough to allow her to make out his dim outline as the darkness wrapped around him like a jealous lover.

Leaning against the BMW she crossed her arms beneath her br**sts, refusing to tread into the darkness where he watched her like a dark, hungry predator.

"I didn't know that I should give you my itinerary," she drawled, watching as he moved closer, the hungry glint in his eyes fueling the adrenaline coursing through her.

"Perhaps you should," he stated, his voice low, deep, throbbing with a hidden power.

She swore she could feel him under her flesh, the heat of his body sinking inside her as he stopped just before her.

"Perhaps you're living in a dream world," she said, challenging him, challenging the command in his expression as he stared down at her, his gaze dark, seductive.

"And perhaps you are trying to involve yourself in matters that do not concern you."

He didn't touch her, but the need for it was a hunger she could feel wrapping around her.

"I'm always getting into things I shouldn't. That is my job description. Remember?" She straightened, bringing her body closer to his, the heat of him nearly flush against her.

"Stop." His fingers curled around her upper arm as his expression tightened, his gaze narrowing on her.

"Stop what?" Brow lifting, she stared back at him archly. "Remember, Khalid, you sought me out, it wasn't the other way around."

"I know you," his voice was a heavy growl. "You're about to make a mistake, Marty."

"A mistake?" Her hand lifted, pressing lightly against his chest. "I'm not the one that made this mistake. I believe that was you."

She could feel his heart beneath her hand, beating hard and heavy, racing with the same power that she felt in her own.

"Your father warned me to stay the hell away from you." His fingers tightened on her arm reflexively. "I believe he should have warned you instead."

A smile tipped her lips. "He knows better." She moved closer, watching his expression, feeling the power of her own inexperience and the desperate need tearing through her. Seducing him was her goal, but it was going to take more than standing in the dark with him.

"You should know better than this." Suddenly, as though the power of her own need transmitted to him, he pulled her against his body, one hand pressing tight and hard against her h*ps to hold her flush against the strength of his erection.

The heavy, erect width of his c**k pressed against her lower stomach, the heat of it sinking past his slacks and the silk of her clothes as her breath caught in her throat.

God, she felt like one of those damned stupid fainting misses from the old romances her mother used to read. The ones who swooned seconds before the pirates had their way with them. Yeah, the ones she had laughed at for so many years.

"Why should I know better?" Her hands slid over his chest to his shoulders. "Because you're meeting with a deep-cover CIA agent known to share his women, just as you do? Or perhaps you and the CIA agent are meeting with a man known to have ties to both of you? Tell me, Khalid, does my godfather know you're up to fun and games with the CIA and Interpol?"

It had been no more than a suspicion at first. Sebastian De-Lorents was a hell of an actor, but seeing them together, hearing the history Bastian and Shayne had, it had finally clicked.

"You don't know what you're talking about." The slow tension in his body told her otherwise.

She almost laughed. The sound came out more as a suspicious little snort. "Really, Khalid, you are talking to the woman who knows all your little games and how you play them," she reminded him. "Tell me what games you're playing with our local spook and his Spanish cohort, and I might be nice and not tell Daddy on you." The facetious threat didn't go over well.

Or perhaps it went over too well.

A heartbeat later he lifted her, pulled her into the dark shelter of the surrounding trees. Before she could think to struggle he had her back against a tree, her body lifted to him, his lips covering hers.

And he wasn't stopping there.

Sensation raced across her flesh as pleasure began to stream through her nerve endings from her lips to her thighs. His hand pushed beneath her skirt, flattened against the upper roundness of her leg and lifted it until she was crooking her knee over his hip.

His c**k wedged against the mound of her pu**y then, throwing her senses into overload as his head jerked back, his lips tearing from hers.

Marty stared at him in ecstatic shock as his h*ps rolled subtly, the heavy erection beneath the material of his slacks pressing, stroking against the swollen bud of her clit.

"You will destroy me," he snarled, as one hand curved around the nape of her neck to hold her head in place as his head lowered again.

His lips nipped at hers, sipped at them for long moments before he drew back once again.

"How will I destroy you?" The question raged in her mind with each warning he gave her. "Tell me, Khalid, how am I such a threat to you?"

His fingers stroked her neck as the other arm curled around her hips, lifting her higher, holding her against him as her knees clasped his h*ps now.

The feel of his c**k pressing between her thighs was exquisite. The slight movement of his h*ps against hers sent hard, racking shudders racing through her system as flames of pleasure raced over her flesh.

"Perhaps, love, it is I who am the danger to you."

There was no chance to argue, to retaliate, as her lips parted, his tongue stroking past them to hers, his lips sealing in the shocking, heated moan that would have torn from her lips.

She was drowning in the pleasure. Her knees gripped his h*ps tighter as her arms wrapped around his shoulders to bring him closer to her. His hands stroked her back, her hips, bunched the material of her dress between his fingers and dragged it over the curve of her ass before cupping the bare rounded rise of flesh.

He stroked, kneaded. His fingers clenched into the sensitive mounds and parted them, sending shooting arcs of sensation racing along the hidden entrance that the narrow cleft concealed.

She had touched herself there, just to see what it felt like. She had wondered what Khalid's touch there would do to her senses. Now she knew. His fingers slid deeper into the parted flesh, stroked, pressed.

   
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