Home > Dangerous Pleasure (Bound Hearts #12)(8)

Dangerous Pleasure (Bound Hearts #12)(8)
Author: Lora Leigh

Every thought of protest flew out the window. Past angers, conflicts, and confrontations were gone. With her wrists secured to the wall, his thigh pressed between hers, and his lips and tongue caressing and owning every pulse of sensuality, he was drowning her. Paige could feel herself weakening into the promise of the remembered ecstasy.

Dominance swirled from him. It was a wave of heat wrapping around her and sinking into her flesh as his lips rubbed and caressed hers. His tongue licked at hers, dipping in, tasting and caressing until Paige found herself arching up to him, moaning for more.

The only place his hands touched her were at her wrists, and again at her hip. The rest of his body stroked her though. His rd chest against her br**sts, his thigh pressed between hers.

Each flex of his leg stroked the hard muscle against her pu**y, her clit, sending incredible pleasure racing through each nerve ending as she arched to be closer.

She had to get closer to him.

The need for the heat, for the pleasure was rushing through her like a tornado. She was dying for more of him. For another taste of him. His kiss was like an aphrodisiac, spicy and addictive as his lips slanted over hers and he kissed her with a pure, sensual hunger that she couldn’t have dreamed existed.

The restraint at her wrists should have made her nervous. No man had ever restrained her. She would have never allowed it until now.

Until Abram.

Until the feel of him against her, until his hands restrained her and his kiss made her like it.

But that didn’t mean she was submitting easily. Even amidst the incredible starbursts of pleasure. On a primitive, primal level, Paige could sense the battle that could brew between them. The one that had been shaping for years now.

How dominant he could be.

How submissive she would never allow herself to be.

She nipped at his tongue as he licked over hers again, causing his head to jerk back, his gaze to narrow in the darkness.

“You’re playing with fire.” There was a growl in his voice that sent a shiver racing up her spine.

“And what are you playing with?” It was all she could do to keep the tremors from her voice, from her fingers as he held them above her head. “I didn’t start this, Abram, you did.”

“You started this eight years ago, Paige,” he rasped. “Eight years and the taste of the sweetest pu**y I’ve had touched my tongue to. You torment me. And now, there is no choice but to anger you in our attempt to ensure your security.”

“Do you think you and Khalid can just kidnap me and get the hell away with it? That you can kiss good enough to make up for it?”

She had to force herself not to let a shiver of pleasure race through her body as his fingers moved over her hip before inching closer to her thigh. To where the silk of her gown fell away from her flesh at the point that her knee had bent, lifting to clasp his thigh, to rub herself against him.

She had to fight to maintain her senses, to control the need to sink back into his kiss, to allow him to sink into her, however she could convince him to do it.

But she knew this man. Dominant. Powerful. A force to be reckoned with in a world so different from her own that it may as well be an alien planet.

“Kidnapped you? I?” Amazement filled his voice, and perhaps just a hint of anger. “Had I kidnapped you, hellcat, you would well know it,” he finally scoffed, and the anger was readily apparent just as his accent became stronger.

Thankfully, his fingers relaxed. He stepped back slowly before reaching to the side and flipping the lights on as he released her.

For a second, she was blinded. Her eyes snapped closed and when she opened them again a second later, he was halfway across the room and heading for the bar.

For a drink. She was tempted to join him.

He moved like a predator.

Paige watched as he stalked almost lazily across the expensive, pearlesent carpeting to the bar on the other side of the room.

Without turning back, he poured a whiskey from the looks of it, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was Khalid’s finest.

His head tilted back as he took a hard drink. Thick, heavy black hair fell nearly to his shoulders, the blue-black strands silky and glistening in the bright overhead light.

“Get out of here before I insult Khalid by f**king you in his bed,” he snapped.

“Talk about a mood change.” Her eyes rolled as he shot her a hard, half angry look from the corner of his eyes.

“Not nearly enough of a change to keep from f**king my brother’s sister.”

Paige blinked back at him. “Damn, that sounded almost depraved, Abram. Would you like to rephrase?”

He turned. Male grace and predatory strength. And pulsing, blazing, male lust.

She could feel her pu**y creaming, saturating her panties further and sensitizing her cl*t to the point of painful need.

Just the sight of him was enough to make her ache, to make her crave with a strength and a power that made her knees weak.

He was tall, broad, and muscular. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his six-four frame, or beneath the exceptionally soft white shirt and well-worn jeans.

Finishing the whiskey he sat the glass on the bar behind him, his gaze never leaving hers. She could feel that look through every inch of her body. Sensitized and aching for his touch, her sk felt too tight, constricting as she tried to still the rapid rise and fall of her br**sts.

“Rephrasing isn’t the only thing I’d like to do, or may attempt to do.” The heavy warning in his voice was followed by a heavy-lidded glance along her body.

Hell, she may as well have been naked. Unfortunately, there was a part of her that wished she was naked.

Paige didn’t have to look down to see that her ni**les were trying to burrow their way through the silk of her gown.

She didn’t bother to tug the robe over the swollen curves or even pretend a shame she didn’t feel. And it wasn’t the first time she’d been forced to face Abram as an independent woman rather than the submissive child he often expected her to portray.

Unfortunately, he was rarely shocked by her anymore.

“And what makes now any different from the past years? There was a time when I would have welcomed your touch, Abram, but now I can’t help but be suspicious. What the hell is going on?”

“Besides your determination to acquire that spanking I keep promising you with?” He spoke as though he were serious.

“Promises, promises. My ass stopped tingling in anticipation years ago.” She waved the comment away. “That doesn’t change the fact that unless you tell Khalid’s goons out there to get out of my face and let me go home, I’m going to have every one of you brought up on charges. That wouldn’t please your daddy, Abram. Last I heard old man Azir was already pissed because you were refusing to remarry for the sake of a child.”

   
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