“Morrie put down some traps,” he mumbled, trying to rein back his forming beak. “But apparently our mouse friend doesn’t have the palette to appreciate a fine FrenchBleu d’Auvergne.”
I groaned. Of course, Morrie would choose some expensive cheese for a bloody mousetrap. I’m surprised he hadn’t set down tiny glasses of wine and crackers for the mouse.
“Relax,” Quoth wrangled his jaw back into place. He grinned at me, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Grimalkin and I will see to it that it doesn’t go anywhere near this room. Now, how about giving me a hand with this bookcase?”
Chapter Three
“Good morning, sleepy.” I slid onto Morrie’s bed and placed a steaming cup of coffee on his bed stand.
A pillow crease ran along Morrie’s cheekbone, accentuating his aquiline features. He opened one eye, and an ice-blue orb swiveled toward me with a hunger that had nothing to do with the anticipation of caffeine. “Mmmm, it is now.”
Morrie wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against him, throwing the duvet over us and enveloping me in his warmth. His naked chest fitted around me, and his hardness pressed against my thigh.
“I have to be at work in fifteen minutes,” I warned him, sinking into his body.
“I know the boss,” Morrie murmured, kissing a trail of fire down my neck. “I bet he’ll understand.”
“I know the boss too, and I bet you he won’t.”
“Then we’d better be quick.” Morrie rolled me underneath him, grabbing a condom from off his nightstand. His other hand cupped my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw as his lips devoured mine.
Morrie’s kisses swept me away – any thoughts or worries or fears I had disappeared the moment his full lips met mine. That was why I hadn’t managed to ask him about his criminal dealings to assuage my moral misgivings.
And it wasn’t going to happen this morning, either. Not with his fingers dancing over my stomach, reaching down,down…I let my legs fall open, and Morrie rolled the condom on and slid inside me.
I gasped as he filled me, every inch of him touching long-sleeping parts of me, awakening my whole body and bringing me to life. I clung to his sinewy frame, moving with him, settling into his rhythm, trying not to race ahead, to show him how much I wanted him to lose control, because that made him tighten up and grasp his control even tighter.
Even though we were on the clock, Morrie kept up his languid, steady pace. Everything about him was a battle between his two natures – the cool, calculating mathematician who desired total control, and the criminal who embraced chaos at every turn.
My body betrayed me, writhing beneath him, pressing back against him, begging him to go faster, harder. Morrie kept his relaxed pace, as if he were in no hurry at all, as if he were exactly where he wanted to be. I ground my hips against him, driving him deeper.
“Now, now, gorgeous, there’s no fire.”
There was a fire – in my veins, in my heart, in all the hidden parts of me he’d stoked to life.
Morrie knitted his fingers in mine, pressing my hand into the pillow above my head. The gesture was both intimate and controlling. My eyes flicked to the hook on Morrie’s ceiling, and I imagined his cheeky smirk as he locked me into it, and what he might do to me if I dared relinquish all my control…
An orgasm hit me, shocking in its suddenness. I leaned into the pillows as I clenched around Morrie, allowing the waves of pleasure roll over me. His own body stiffened, and with a final shudder, he came as well, tightening around me, his jaw clenching and twisting.
I loved that twist in his jaw – the slightest imperfection hinting at a loss of control, only for a fraction of a second. Then my Morrie was back, grinning wickedly at me like the cat that got the cream.
Morrie rolled off me, his fingers trailing over my skin. He reached across me and turned his phone screen toward him. “Look at the time, you still have three minutes.”
“There’s a hook on your ceiling,” I murmured.
“I don’t know what that doctor of yours is on about – your eyes work perfectly fine.”
“Whydo you have a hook on your ceiling?”
Morrie’s eyes bore into mine, the corner of his mouth flicking up into that infuriating smirk of his. “Do you want to find out?”
My stomach plunged to my knees. My eyes trailed to the leather and steel apparatuses hanging beside his bed. I didn’t live under a rock. Ashley and I had giggled our way through the50 Shades of Greymovie. I knew Morrie was pansexual and had some kinky proclivities. Did I want to be part of that? Was I that kind of girl? Most importantly, did I trustJames Moriartyto truss me up on his ceiling?
His fingers brushed over my clit and my body answered for me.Yes, yes, yes.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Couldn’t quite hear you, love.” Morrie dragged his teeth across my earlobe.
