Мишель Роуэн - Hot Spell

“I don’t think I can stop this,” he said, frowning hard.

Neither could she. Her desire for Jacob at the moment was much too powerful to resist.

“The ghosts said the clock made them lose control.” She gasped as he slipped his warm hands under the shoulder straps of her bra to pull them down, baring her breasts. Another gasp when he lowered his mouth and captured her right nipple to suckle on the hard, sensitive pink tip. Desire pooled between her legs, and she had to clutch at his shoulders to stay on her feet.

She felt his hands move to the middle of her back and he unclasped the bra so that it fell to her feet.

She knew she had to stop this, but…well, she didn’t really want to. The erotic sensations Jacob gave her were stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. It was as if she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. Only, instead of pain—like the shock wave that came off the clock at midnight—there was nothing but pleasure. She couldn’t pull away.

It’s not as if she’d never imagined what it would be like to be with Jacob. It was impossible to ignore how attractive he was and how charming he could be—when he wanted to be. Every other woman who crossed his path found him irresistible, why would she be any different?

But this was different.

Jacob let out a dark groan that made things low in her body twist with need. She felt his shoulders tense. He dragged himself back from her, though his hands stayed on her breasts as if they were magnetized.

“This is some sort of spell?” he asked.

“Wasn’t sure you heard that,” she said, finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than his thumbs now circling her very sensitive nipples.

“I was trying to ignore it.” His eyes focused on her mouth but instead of making her feel self-conscious, it made her badly want to kiss him again. “You’re sure that’s what this is? Some kind of magic?”

“What other explanation do we have? It must be a magical trap that’s trying to keep us here. Maybe something bad will happen if we can’t stop this.”

“Then we need to get out of here.”

“We do.”

“I’m going.”

“Okay.”

His muscles tightened. “Watch me go.”

“I’m watching.”

With what seemed to be a monumental effort, he released her and pushed away, averting his gaze from her flushed, half-naked body as he stormed toward the door. The veins stood out on his arms from the effort he put forth, every muscle in his biceps and back tensed. She noticed he had a tattoo on his right shoulder blade—an intricate Celtic knot design in black ink. He grabbed the door handle and turned it. Then he used two hands and rattled the door.

He looked over his shoulder. “It’s locked.”

She grabbed her discarded sweater from the floor and covered her breasts with it, feeling a fraction more centered and in control with him all the way on the other side of the room. “Break it open, then.”

He took a couple of steps back and then kicked the door. It didn’t budge. He kicked it again.

No result.

Then he looked at her. “I think we might be trapped in here at the moment.”

Instead of being upset at the idea, she felt a warm thrill go through her at the prospect of being trapped in a bedroom with Jacob.

She so wasn’t thinking straight.

He was breathing faster now, his chest moving in and out as his gaze traveled the length of her. “I need to warn you that I’m not exactly feeling in control of myself here.”

“You and me both.”

He stalked toward her and she braced herself, expecting him to kiss her again, actually hoping he would. Instead, he breezed past her toward a small table where there was a heavy brass candle holder. He grabbed hold of it.

“What are you doing?” Amanda asked.

“Preventive measures.” He handed the object to her.

“For what?”

He stood in front of her looking as serious as she’d ever seen him, his lean, muscled chest going in and out with his labored breathing. “You need to knock me out.”

Her eyebrows went up at that. “I need to what?”

“Bash me on the head. Knock me unconscious. Then you’ll be safe.”

“I’m not safe?”

His jaw was tight. “I can’t control myself much longer. I don’t want to do anything I’m going to regret.”

That statement took her by surprise, and she felt a strange surge of disappointment. “I see. You have enough women in your little black book and you don’t want to add my name to the list?”

He just stared at her for a moment. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“What then?”

He exhaled and there was a sheen of perspiration on his forehead now. “I don’t want to force myself on you. I feel an overwhelming compulsion to throw you on that bed over there and take you fast and hard. It’s close to uncontrollable. If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to stop myself. Knock me out while you have the chance.”

She tried to process what he was saying. He was trying to be a gentleman? Mr. Lothario I’ll-sleep-with-anybody? If she’d been feeling one hundred percent herself, she probably would have rolled her eyes or laughed. But she wasn’t.

“Do it,” he urged.

She placed the candle holder back on the table.

“Amanda…” His voice held an edge of warning.

“I know,” she said. “You don’t want to force me to do anything.”

“The way I’m feeling—”

“The thing is, I feel that way, too.” She dropped the protective covering of her sweater and reached down to take one of his clenched fists in her hand. She brought it slowly to her lips and kissed it. When he unclenched it she slid his index finger into her mouth and then repeated the movement on his middle finger. The look on his face, a visible shattering of that control he’d tried to maintain, was definitely what she was aiming for.

She guided his other hand to her breast. His touch sent an erotic shiver through her body.

She went up on her tiptoes, pressed her mouth against his and pushed away any thoughts that she was doing anything wrong. How could something that felt this right be wrong?

“The clock,” he murmured against her lips.

“Later,” she replied.

“This isn’t real.”

“I know.” She kissed him again and he finally stopped resisting. She touched his skin, so hot it felt as if it was on fire, burning him up from the inside. “But I need you inside of me now.”

He actually growled at that and pulled her against him, flattening her breasts against his chest. The next kiss was harder, deeper, sweeping any remaining thoughts away but one.

This was what happened to Catherine and Nathan , she thought. This overwhelming passion . They’d been unable to resist its pull. And after giving in to that passion they’d been cursed to haunt the house where they’d died.

But then there were no more thoughts, only the sensation of Jacob’s hands on her, leaving scorching lines on her skin that made her arch against him.

She undid her jeans so he could help slide them down her thighs. He kneeled in front of her, kissing her sensitive skin and then licked a line over the front of her panties that made her gasp out loud. Jacob stroked his fingers against the damp silk, back and forth, the thin material the only barrier between them.

“You want me,” he stated the obvious.

“Yes,” she affirmed. “Please.”

He stood up and directed her backward toward the bed where she lay down on the soft mattress. He slipped his fingers under the top edge of her panties to slide against her clit. She gripped his wrist, but not to stop him, just to have something to hold on to. Her hips began to move against his intimate touch.