A prayer.
A surrender.
And damn—it made my blood burn.
“See? You are interested in me.” My voice was dark silk, threading around her.
“No!” She writhed, twisting against my hold.
Her movement sent a shock of friction between us?—
And then?—
One perfect breast popped free from the confines of her bodice.
I sucked in a breath, my hand moving before I could think, tracing the dusky circle of her nipple, feeling the heat of her skin beneath my fingertips.
A ragged breath tore from her throat.
“You’re a breathtaking woman,” I murmured, “and I’m afraid I must claim you as my own.”
Her chest heaved, deep, gasping breaths, making her body tremble against mine.
I leaned in, brushing my lips along the delicate curve of her throat, then licked a lazy line down her skin.
“My God…” she whispered again, her voice breaking.
I closed my eyes, savoring the sound, the feel of her against me.
“I want to have my way with you.” I rocked forward, letting her feel the undeniable proof of my arousal?—
“But only if you consent.”
Her sharp inhale sent a jolt through me.
Oh, the torment of being away from her.
Now that I had her, I would never let her go.
Her hands curled into fists. Her hips pressed against me, her body mimicking the motion she claimed to deny.
“You can’t,” she gasped.
I smirked, pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth—a silent, taunting echo of what the stranger had done.
“Can’t I?” My voice was a whisper of heat against her lips. “Tell me… why not?”
Her breath shuddered against mine, her mouth softening, opening just a little?—
For a second, I thought she might kiss me back.
But then?—
She wrenched her face away, twisting in my grip.
“I have a husband.”
Her words were a dagger to my ribs, her voice unsteady, but her resolve unshaken.
