Samantha Hunter - Fascination

“Maybe you need to keep looking then.”

He pulled her against him, kissing her hungrily as he walked them both back to the sofa, only lifting his head as he pushed her back and stood over her.

“Oh, I intend to, sweetheart. Remember, you have no say in the matter. I can do anything I want. Look anywhere I want.”

Her heart pounded in response to his words. The control he had over her life that she’d hated since the first day she’d met him suddenly felt incredibly erotic. He’d told her before he’d touched her that he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want, but now she couldn’t think of anything she didn’t want him to do.

He knelt down, sliding a hand up her thigh. “In fact, I wonder what you might be hiding right…here.”

His fingers skimmed just underneath the hem of her shorts, and the muscles of her leg quivered in response. She stayed very still, letting the sensations ride over her, never letting her gaze move from his. His eyes darkened again as his fingers moved farther up underneath the material, scraping lightly against her soft curls, and she inhaled sharply, as did he.

“No panties. I’ll have to make a note about that on the report.”

“Uh-huh.” She couldn’t think as he petted her and she tested herself, staying as still as could be.

“Don’t you want to move against me, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t?”

“No.”

“I want you to.”

“I know.”

He chuckled again and leaned over her, pushing her shirt up with his other hand and closing his lips around her turgid nipple, sucking lightly as his fingers found their way between the damp folds of her sex, pressing intimately against her. She trembled, panting hard, but didn’t move as her body was overtaken by the building pleasure his ministrations were causing.

Ian moved his mouth all over her, leaving wet kisses all over her breasts and stomach as his thumb massaged her clit. She cried out in need but remained still.

“I may need to take a closer look.”

Her voice was thready, coming in pants as he pulled her shorts off in one hard tug.

“I…figured…as…much….”

As he settled between her legs and swiped his tongue over her delicate skin, pushed his fingers deeply inside of her, she couldn’t hold out. He’d won and she didn’t care.

Arching back, she bucked against him, letting the quick release pour through her like liquid fire, chanting his name.

Still shuddering, she sat up slightly, and he hooked one of her legs over the back of the sofa, spreading her widely as his mouth closed over her again, sucking and lapping at her until she dug her hands into his hair and pressed him more tightly against her. Crying out, she rocked into him as she came again, animal sounds bursting from her unbidden as she forgot everything but the suffusing pleasure that he gave her.

“Oh, God…Ian…” She lapsed back against the back of the sofa again, spent, sweating and exhausted though he didn’t join her but simply continued to kiss and stroke until she felt like melted butter.

Tiny residual orgasms flew from the ends of his fingertips through her body until she couldn’t even think. Eventually he lifted up next to her and covered her mouth in a scorching kiss that tasted like her own sex. Then the kiss gentled and he eased back, looking at her.

Somewhere in the foggy recesses of her mind she realized he hadn’t sought any satisfaction for himself and she smiled in anticipation of correcting that oversight. Once she had her energy back, she would show him two could play this game. Right now she was utterly slack. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t even know what. Words were lost to her.

Ian sat on the floor, his hand absently stroking the damp hair that clung to her forehead, and she swallowed a sudden lump of emotion clogging her throat. She hadn’t experienced a lot of tenderness from men in her life, and this little bit from Ian slayed her. She couldn’t see his expression, but his touch was gentle. She let her eyelids drop but opened them again, for a second fighting the drowsiness that overcame her. Then she just gave in.

IAN SAT IN THE CHAIR across from where Sage still slept soundly, watching her. He’d made a big mistake, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Of the women he’d known, he’d never tasted passion as he had with Sage. Even though he’d kept himself tightly controlled, her responses had nearly pushed him over the edge.

All he really regretted was that it could never happen again. He would never know what it would be like to lose himself in her body and he half wished he had taken her completely the night before. But it was too late for that now.

He watched her shift on the sofa. She looked so innocent, her face peaceful in sleep, her head a mass of tangled curls that were just as silky as he had imagined. She’d be awake soon—he could tell she was making the slow rise to consciousness.

Guilt pricked at him. His plan had worked. She’d fallen deeply asleep, freeing him to search her place thoroughly, and he’d found what he sought. The envelope lay in his lap. He’d read the letter from the man named Locke, the man he’d seen the day before. Obviously an old lover. Obviously trouble.

She looked too young, too chaste in sleep to be the cause of so much chaos in his life. But he knew she was far from innocent. He studied her, knowing she was still half naked under the sheet he’d tucked around her. The scents and flavors of her skin, of her sex, from the night before swamped him, and he clenched his fist on the edge of the chair. He’d do his job. He’d take her in. And then he’d move on.

Her lithe body bowed in a stretching yawn and then her eyes popped open. She was momentarily confused, and he watched as she remembered. Her eyes closed again, a smile forming. He felt a jab in his gut—was she smiling at the memory of what he’d done to her or at how she thought she’d fooled him?

Her head twisted, and she saw him sitting there. At first there was warmth in her eyes, but the second her gaze landed on the envelope on the table next to him, she snapped from sleepiness to panicked wakefulness.

Bolting straight up on the sofa, her face burned when she realized she was still nude from the waist down, and she clutched the sheet around her. The sight of her bare skin made Ian’s pulse jump, but just for a moment. He schooled his voice to be cool and casual.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

She lunged for the envelope. He snatched it first and faced her fury calmly.

“You bastard!” He raised an eyebrow as she stormed, several creative curses spewing from her well-kissed lips.

“Oh, tut, tut, sweetheart. Not much of a morning-after person, are you?”

“How dare you?”

He felt his hackles rise at her indignant tone, but remained cool.

“How dare I what?”

As she paced, tears filled her eyes.

“How dare you do…what you did! Just to trick me so you could search my place! You’re slime. You’re worse than slime.”

Ian just chuckled. “Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. Like you weren’t doing the same thing with the same intentions? It was pretty obvious you were willing to do just about anything to keep me from searching that room. I wanted to see exactly how far you’d take it.”

“I’m going to report you.”

He just shook his head. “There’s nothing to report. I didn’t coerce you, I didn’t force you, I didn’t threaten you. What happened happened because you wanted it to.” He saw her face flame with humiliation and softened his tone slightly. “And because I wanted it to, as well.”

She shook her head, obviously distraught, and sank to the couch. He steeled himself against any emotional reaction and tried to remember who he was dealing with. For all the wounded innocence, she was playing him as much as he was playing her. And probably had been for a while.