Instead, my hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepens, and a small, desperate sound escapes my throat. His fingers tangle in my hair as he backs me against my dining table, lifting me effortlessly onto it.
My legs part instinctively, allowing him to press closer. Allowing him to show me that he’s hot and hard, as caught up in lust as I am.
I'm kissing Dominic Vitale, and God help me, I don't want to stop.
When we finally break apart, I'm breathing hard, my professional ethics in shambles. His eyes have darkened with desire that mirrors my own.
"That," he says roughly, "was not part of my plan for tonight."
"Liar," I whisper, but there's no heat behind it.
His smile is slow, dangerous. "Maybe. But you kissed me back, Agent Ricci."
My head falls back as Dom's mouth traces a hot path down my neck.
His hands slide beneath my shirt, fingertips mapping my skin with reverent precision.
Warning bells clang in my head, but I ignore them.
"I want to see you," he murmurs against my collarbone. "All of you."
For a moment, I wonder if he’s pulling a honey trap on me.
I might be powerless to resist him, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do my job. “This won’t change anything. I’ll still put you in jail.”
“All the more reason to enjoy each other unless you plan to make conjugal visits.”
He clearly doesn’t think I’ll succeed in my investigation. Why would he?
Most men in organized crime have had some scrape with the law, but not Dom.
He steps back just enough to slide my shirt over my head.
The cool air hits my breasts, my nipple hardening.
His fingers expertly unclasp my bra, tugging it away. His eyes darken as they take in my body.
"You're beautiful," he says, voice rough with desire. "Even more than I imagined."
"You've imagined this?"
His smile is wolfish. "Every night for months."
I should be horrified. Instead, I'm burning from the inside out.
He cups my breast, his thumb gently brushing over my nipple. The contrast between his dangerous reputation and his soft touch unravels me completely.
"I've wanted this since you detained me last Christmas,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving mine as his hands explore my body with maddening patience. "So damn beautiful."
I arch into his touch, and when his mouth replaces his hands, a desperate sound escapes my throat.
"Dom," I gasp, fingers threading through his hair.
"Let go," he whispers against my skin. "Just for tonight."
And God help me, I do.
