Lora Leigh - Soul Deep

“I have the fucking condom, dammit,” he snarled, glancing at the girl again. “Now get your ass over here.”

“You’re so romantic,” the female voice sighed petulantly. “I might have to spank you for that.”

“Be sure to bring the whip then,” he grunted. “You’re going to need it. Now get moving.”

He disconnected the call then sat back in the chair and contemplated his little captive. He snorted at the thought. He would just as soon be sitting outside that little place of hers watching the house for problems than stuck with her now. Simon Quatres and his little fillies better get their asses in gear and get here fast because he wasn’t in the mood for this.

Simon could take the President’s daughter off his hands in an hour, stash her some place nice and safe and Kiowa would go hunting. He stilled at that thought. What the hell did he even care?

Then his eyes went back to the girl. A smear of blood on her forehead where she had been hit had fury rising inside him all over again. Dammit, there was no need to hit her, he thought. The bastards trying to take her hadn’t given a damn if they killed her or not. All they cared about were their fanatical plans and insane prejudices. Yeah, going hunting was a damned good idea. The blood supremacists infecting society now were beginning to wear on his nerves anyway.

He shifted in his chair, grimacing at the hard-on rising in his jeans. The more he looked at her, the harder he was getting. That was a bad thing. Very bad. He had never had a problem separating lust from business, and only when completely necessary did the two overlap. It was damned hard to separate the two while he watched her though. And this was one of those situations when it wasn’t just unnecessary but damned stupid.

Sighing wearily, he rose to his feet and removed the gag. She looked to be breathing fine, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He slid the cloth free before returning to his chair and once again staring at her. He could get used to looking at her in his bed, he thought.

She did look pretty. Long, long brown hair lay like thick ribbons around her slender body, and that costume was hot as hell. Seductive red, nearly sheer, the bodice snug beneath her breasts, causing them to spill above the low neckline. Soft, silky-looking pale flesh. A rosebud mouth. His dick twitched hard at the sight of that mouth. It was rosy red and tempting as hell. A mouth like that could give a man more ecstasy than he had any right to. Let alone a Breed.

As he watched her, a low moan passed over the tempting curves of her lips, and long lashes fluttered open weakly. He moved from the chair, watching her closely as he eased down on the bed beside her and capped his hand over her mouth just in time.

The muffled scream was accompanied by a frantic bucking of her body as he moved over her, laying against her heavily, staring into eyes such a deep, mysterious hazel that it could make a grown man weep.

Shades of brown, greens and blues collided in those eyes, tiny pinpoints of color that, up close, were almost mesmerizing. They were wide with fear and outrage now. Uh-oh. That hard-on killing him was pressed against her lower belly and, he was certain, was the cause of that outrage and sparks of red-hot fury lighting her eyes.

“Settle down,” he muttered, watching her closely, allowing himself to enjoy the feel of the slender body beneath him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Yeah, she was going to believe that one, he thought, especially with his erection prodding her and those ropes holding her down.

Her muffled scream of outrage against his palm assured him he was right.

“Look lady, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead,” he griped. “If I wanted you scared and under control, you’d be gagged as well as tied down. Now I didn’t play fucking Sir Galahad so you can bring the roof down and let your attackers’ buddies in on the fact that you’re alive and well at this point in time. Now do you want to shut the hell up, promise not to scream, or do you want one of my socks shoved in your mouth? Trust me, that’s not a good alternative.”

She blinked back at him in surprise.

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” he murmured. “Or do I get to lie here until I get tired and use that sock instead?”

Pretty, pretty eyes.

She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she stilled beneath him.

“You’re gonna be quiet?”

She nodded emphatically.

Watching her suspiciously, he began to lift his hand. Slowly, he moved it back, preparing to lift himself off her if she kept her word. She was soft and sweet to lie on, but he had a feeling… Shit.

Her mouth opened, a piercing scream nearly escaping before he lowered his head and caught it with his lips.

Dumb, dumb idea. Sweet Heaven, her lips were soft, tender, her mouth a warm, seductive cavern beckoning him.

His hands gripped her wrists as slender fingers formed claws. The ropes held her fast, but he gave her his hands to claw, to prick with those delicate little nails. Something to ease the need for violence he knew must be raging inside her.

God, her lips were soft.

He stared into her eyes, feeling the shock clear to the soles of his feet as his tongue licked at the rosebud perfection, tasting something delicate, addictive, feeling a heated madness building in his brain as hunger swelled inside him.

She looked dazed, staring back at him, the blue in her hazel eyes darkening as he licked at her lips again. He only wanted to keep her from screaming, to silence her as fast as possible without hurting her. But he didn’t expect this.

He moved his hands, forcing them from her grip so he could burrow into her hair where he could feel it silkiness, hold her in place and delve deeper into her mouth at the same time.

His thumbs pressed against her jaw, controlling her sharp little teeth in case she had a mind to bite, forcing them open enough to thrust his tongue sharply inside her mouth.

God, he ached. His tongue throbbed at the taste of her, prodding at hers as he watched her lashes drift lower, watched her eyes darken.

Sweet, sweet honey filled his senses, tempted his taste buds. Damn she tasted good. Like summer. Innocence. Something he had never known or thought of until he was too old to fool himself into believing it could exist. But it did exist, right here, right now, and the taste of it filled his senses.

Damn, he didn’t need this. Before he could weaken further, he jerked his lips back from hers, snagged the gag he had used earlier, a thickly knotted length of torn pillow case and pushed the knot past her parted lips before tying it quickly behind her head, while her muffled screams and frantic struggles pricked at the conscience he wasn’t supposed to have.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He breathed out roughly, sitting beside her as she stared back at him furiously. “But I really didn’t risk my ass so you could scream bloody assed murder and get us both killed.”

She was screaming it now as she jerked and bucked against her restraints, her beautiful eyes promising a wealth of retribution as she finally subsided in exhaustion.

“See, I was even going to give you something for that nasty headache I bet you have.” He smiled back at her deadly glare. “It hurts pretty bad, huh?”

She looked away, her nostrils flaring with rage, her face flushed as her breasts trembled with agitation. And those were some damned pretty breasts. With perfect tight little nipples

They swelled over the snug red bodice and silky fabric beneath. Firm, plump little globes with surprising hard, spiked nipples. His eyes narrowed on the obvious signs of arousal, his dick flexing beneath his jeans as his mouth watered for a taste of them.

Reaching out, he allowed the backs of his fingers to smooth over the bared, upper curves.