No, he couldn’t look away any more than she could, and he waited for what he wanted. Acceptance.
Her small, pink tongue flicked out, licking over her lips in a sudden, almost nervous motion, and then she nodded, need firing in her eyes.
Cole reached out to touch her shoulder, and it was all Micah could do not to react violently. He didn’t want Cole—or anyone else—touching her. She was his for this moment.
“Are you sure?” Cole said in a low voice only she and Micah could hear.
Her gaze flickered, and she turned briefly to look at Cole. Again she nodded, and her eyes flashed as she refocused her attention on Micah.
Those lips. God, those lips. He was dying to taste them, and suddenly he knew he had to. Even as he took the whip Cole extended and stepped forward, his movements were jerky and urgent.
He cupped her jaw in one hand, slid his fingers over the softness of her cheek, then slanted his lips over hers and took them hungrily.
He swallowed her gasp. Her taste exploded onto his tongue as he swept it over her mouth, inward, stroking deep. Sweet. Warm. Soft like a woman should taste.
Her tongue met his, boldly tasting him in return. Hot and wet, they dueled, neither backing down. An electric current raced up his spine, ricocheted off the base of his skull and sizzled over his nerve endings like a bolt of lightning.
Starved for air, he yanked himself away, his breaths coming in quick, jerky pants. She stared at him in wonder and swayed against the bonds holding her hands.
He took one step back and slowly circled until he stared at the slim column of her spine.
“Dance for me.”
The whip uncoiled and then came alive, arcing and then landing with a sharp crack. A glow rose on her skin, and her erotic moan hovered, sweet and arousing.
The room quieted, and her soft cries grew louder, more frequent. Moans. Sighs. A woman on the verge of climax.
She captivated him. Mesmerized by the sight of her reacting to his whip, his touch, his command, she excited him on a primitive level. She touched him in places that hadn’t felt warmth in a long time.
He didn’t understand it, but he latched on to it like a man starving.
The whip coiled and snapped, hissing and then landing, the welt rising on her skin. She rose up on tiptoe, her body straining even as she arched her back, waiting, wanting another lash.
The muscles in her slender arms rippled, and her fingers splayed out, stretching and then curling into her fists again. Faster, she moved in time with the lashes, dancing an erotic rhythm that held the room in her thrall. Race to release. Micah watched in fascination as he worked her into a heated frenzy.
The last lash fell just as a cry of sweet ecstasy burst from deep inside her. The sound was primal and beautiful, and it instilled an ache in his gut that extended to his balls. He was painfully erect, his c**k bulging against the zipper of his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to shove his pants down and bury his c**k between her ass cheeks. He wanted her ass, her pu**y, her mouth. He wanted this woman.
No longer able to keep from touching her, he ran his fingers over the thin welts crisscrossing her back. She moaned softly, leaning into his caress. He smoothed his palms up her back and then under her arms and down her sides.
Wanting to look into her eyes, to see her again, he walked around her, letting his hand trail over her skin until his fingers rested on her belly and he stood over her.
“Look at me,” he said huskily.
He lifted his hand to her chin, tilted it up so her gaze met his.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Her lips curved upward in a tremulous smile, and he traced the fullness of her bottom lip with his thumb.
He dropped his head to hers, their mouths touching. He paused, taking it slower this time, wanting to savor her sweetness.
“I want you. I want you so much it’s killing me.”
His voice was hoarse and needy, but he didn’t care. He only knew if he didn’t have this woman, he’d go crazy.
He reached up to untie her hands, and when they were free, she faltered, her knees buckling. He caught her to him, her body melting into his. She felt so damn good, and his zipper was trying to brand a permanent tattoo on his dick.
Wanting to feel the silk of her hair, he dragged his hand through it, enjoying the sensation of it sliding through his fingers.
“Will you come home with me?” he murmured.
His lips were just centimeters from hers. Her breath blew over his face, and he inhaled.
She stared back at him, desire warming her eyes.
He tucked a long strand of her hair behind her ear, and his thumb snagged on the mask. He wanted to see her, wanted to know more about this woman he was determined to possess tonight.
She uttered a sharp protest and raised her hands to grip his, all the while shaking her head in mute denial. She tried to turn away, but the mask slipped and caught in her hair.
A strangled sound erupted from her throat and she hastily backed away, but not before he saw her features.
Shock hit him square in the balls.
He was going to be sick.
Angel. David’s sister.
Dear God, what had he done?
She stared back at him, frozen, her eyes wide and almost frightened. The beautiful naked woman standing in front of him was quickly replaced by images of Angelina at sixteen. Innocent, with a dazzling, flirtatious smile, the kind that a kid wore when she thought the world was hers on a silver platter. He couldn’t conjure an image of her older. She was stuck as that sixteen-year-old kid. How old was she now anyway?
David’s sister. Goddamn it.
Fury quickly replaced his utter disbelief. “Angelina, what the f**k?”
CHAPTER 2
Micah grabbed Angelina’s shoulders and pulled her close to him to shield her from view, but that was damn near impossible with a room full of people and her bare-assed naked.
He yanked his head around, looking for something—anything—to cover her with.
“Where are your goddamn clothes?”
“Micah, stop,” she protested.
The shock of hearing her speak momentarily halted him. The slightly accented speech reminded him so damn much of David. Her voice was huskier than it was when she was younger. Sexier. Fuck!
He shook his head and resumed his search, his gaze lighting on a discarded sheet from one of the beds. It would do.
Dragging her with him, he strode over to snatch the sheet from the floor. He draped it over her shoulders and then wrapped it completely around her, holding the ends as he looked for an escape route.