Page 32 of Disavowed

No sooner had her lips parted than Dom’s tongue slipped inside, tasting and swirling, tangling with hers. His hold on her loosened, and his kiss eased in its intensity.

“Stop,” she whispered, knowing it was already too late. She was a goner.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he said against her mouth, then slanted his lips across hers, gently angling her head for better access. Then his mouth began a slow, sensuous path down her chin to her neck. Shivery tingles danced across her skin, leaving her with a sense of bonelessness. “Do you?” he asked again.

She went limp in his arms and let her head fall backward as he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “Noooo,” she said on a throaty sigh, feeling as if she were floating in some erotic mist.

“No, what?” he mumbled as he gazed down at her breasts, which were now covered only by her satiny pink bra.

Where did my shirt go?

He leaned down and fastened his mouth on one of her nipples, nipping it through the thin fabric. She gasped and arched into him.

“Baby, if you want me to stop, say it like you mean it.”

God, but she wanted him, and she wanted him to stop.

This is madness. To give in to him so easily. The very moment he touched her, for Chrissake.

One of Dom’s large, very warm hands slid to the small of her back, the other skimming down to squeeze her buttocks. He shifted his mouth to her other breast, tantalizing the nipple to a peak so hard she thought she would scream if he didn’t take her bra off.

“I—” She closed her eyes. Her breathing came rapidly, more like panting, as he removed his hand from her buttocks and worked open the front closure of her bra. His lips found her bare nipple, and he sucked it into his mouth. A bolt of electricity shot to her core, and she surged her hips forward. “I can’t do this,” she kept telling herself, then realized she’d said the words out loud.

“Can’t do what, baby?” He spread his legs, pulling her mound against the juncture of his thighs, pressing her against the firm bulge beneath his jeans.

In one swift movement, he turned and gently lowered her to the sofa. He kissed her deeply, slanting his mouth feverishly across hers, first one way then the next. His five o’clock shadow bristled against her skin.

She locked her legs around the backs of his thighs, powerless beneath his ministrations, breathing heavily into his mouth. The bulge at his crotch pushed against her, and she couldn’t get close enough. She was burning with need. The need to have him thrusting inside her.

Where’s my willpower? My self-respect?

Nowhere around this man.

Drawing on reserves she thought had been blown sky high, she snapped open her eyes. “I can’t do this,” she panted between ragged breaths.

Dom lifted his head, his chest heaving. His eyes were glazed and half closed.

She shoved at his chest until he rested his weight on his elbows, staring down at her. “I’m not like you.” She flung her arm over her face, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze. “I can’t make love like you can. Like it’s just sex. I won’t let you do this to me again. I won’t let me do this to me again. Get off me, and get out.”

The cushion shifted, and she lifted her arm to see he’d risen and stood looking down at her. His eyes were troubled, regretful even. His broad chest still rose and fell rapidly.

“Fuck.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t come here to take you like some kind of asshole barbarian.”

She pursed her lips. “Yeah, right.”

“I didn’t,” he all but shouted. “I—I came here because…shit, I don’t know why I came here,” he muttered. “When you answered the door half naked, looking so incredibly beautiful, I couldn’t stop myself. Daisy, I never stopped thinking about you.”

The serious look in his eyes and his furrowed forehead almost made her believe him. Then common sense slapped her in the face. “Are you telling me you haven’t been with another woman since we slept together a year ago?”

He blew out a breath and lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

“That’s what I thought.” She pushed from the sofa and searched for her blouse, which he’d somehow rid her of without her even remembering when or how he’d done it. Finding it on the floor partially beneath the coffee table, she scooped it up and slipped into it. With trembling fingers, she managed to button it and retie it at her waist.

She stormed past him, needing to get the hell away from him ASAP. With all the sparks that had flown between them only minutes ago, she still didn’t completely trust herself. And speaking of sparks—the kind she so hadn’t had with Jack—there’d been enough to rival the Macy’s Fourth of July fireworks show.

Damn you, Dom Carew. And damn me for being so weak where you’re concerned.

Almost being so weak, she reminded herself proudly. She’d stood her ground and told Mr. Asshole-Barbarian Detective where to go.