The dosage of muscle relaxer and antihistamine he gave her was fast acting and enough to put her into a twilight sleep, but she wasn’t totally unconscious. Plus, she hadn’t finished the glass, meaning she hadn’t gotten a full dose. If he was going to get what he needed, he had to act fast, before she became fully aware.
The Spaniard lay her down on the bed, glancing around surreptitiously as he did.
He didn’t think she’d have cameras in here, but given what he’d put her through in the past year, her security people were probably jumpy. If he had to guess, he’d say that they might be monitoring audio, but if there were cameras, they wererecording rather than live monitoring. That way, if something happened to her, they would be able to play it back and have evidence of what happened.
Just in case someone was watching, he had to make this look consensual.
The Spaniard lowered himself onto the bed beside her, his lips near her ear. His hand slid down her arm, two fingers pressing to her wrist. He counted silently, taking her heart rate, unable to shake the worry that he might have given her too much. Her pulse was steady and strong.
“Ho sento, querida.” He whispered the words in her ear, knowing she wasn’t wearing any comm pieces, thanks to touching and kissing her earlier. It was a stupid indulgence, lapsing back into his native Catalan, but he needed to apologize in his own language.
Two things he rarely did—use the name Angus and speak Catalan—he did with Nikolett.
Pushing up onto his elbows, he leaned over her, bending his head to hers as if they were making out. When his lips brushed her forehead, then her cheek, she shifted under him, eyes slitted open though her gaze was unfocused.
She moaned softly and he stilled.
She was out of it, but despite her suggestion they stop at kissing, her body wasn’t ready to give up without an orgasm. One leg bent, her skirt sliding up to pool at the top of her thigh, her knee pressing against his hip.
Angus gritted his teeth and gripped her bare thigh. This was her good leg, and she still wore the thigh-high and shoe. He shifted just enough to slide both off, tossing them to the floor.
Very deliberately he looked her over, starting with her bare feet and moving up her legs. Her skirt was already half pushed up, but he finished the job, his palm gliding up her thigh, gathering the fabric as he went until he shoved it to her waist,exposing the stretchy lace underwear she wore. The black of it was shocking against her pale skin.
It looked like the kind of underwear a woman wore when she expected someone else to see it.
She’d been telling the truth.
She had been planning to have sex with him tonight.
He knew better than to indulge in self-recrimination, but the Spaniard hated himself at that moment.
Eric. He had to focus on Eric.
He’d done enough digging, as well as watching them, to know that she and Eric had an on-again, off-again relationship. Despite that, she hadn’t been romantically linked to anyone. Because of that, the Spaniard assumed Gus would get no further than a few fun dinners, the point of which was either companionship or to make Eric jealous.
What did it mean for her relationship with Eric that she’d been planning to sleep with him?
“You’re beautiful, lass,” he said just loud enough for any mics in the room to pick up.
He traced the edge of her underwear, finger sliding back and forth.
Do what you came here to do, damn you.
The Spaniard hooked his fingertip over the lace and pulled it down just a little. Enough so it was clear that if he wanted to, he could strip her bare.
The plan had been to strip her completely naked and do things to her. To drive home the point of how vulnerable she was in the most humiliating and violating way possible.
He couldn’t do it.
Swallowing hard, he stopped tugging at her panties.
Nikolett made a needy, whimpering noise, her head rolling to the side. He was tempted, so tempted, to touch her,notto humiliate her but to pleasure her. To fasten his mouth to hersand slide his fingers inside her. Remove her shirt to taste and tease her nipples.
See if he could make her sigh and moan out more pretty sounds with his fingers and tongue…while she was utterly helpless and vulnerable.
Inside him, the battle continued to rage, making him hesitate and take too long. As he debated, he kept his hand spread on her hip, thumb just barely touching the plump top of her sex, still covered by the lace.
She moved, restless and uneasy, pelvis tilting. Clearly wanting more. Wanting his thumb somewhere else.
