I know it’s a bad idea, but the woman has an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what to say to push my buttons.
The FBI should hire her for their terrorist interrogation team. There’s not a man on earth whose will to live she couldn’t break.
Holding her head and ignoring her little cry of surprise, I drink deep from her mouth. Her sweet, soft, warm mouth.
Her delicious, feminine, incredible mouth, whose appeal is surpassed only by the feel of her lush tits pressed against my chest. And the small tremor that runs through her as I deepen the kiss. And maybe the way the tension in her body starts to melt until she’s leaning into me, giving me her weight and letting her head fall back as my tongue slides against hers.
When she slips her arms up around my neck and sighs in pleasure, a growl of victory rumbles through my chest.
Can’t kiss, my arse.
I wind an arm around her back, the other around her waist, and pull her closer. She fits perfectly against my body, soft everywhere I’m hard. Pliant everywhere my fingers dig. And curved in all the right places.
The urge to push her down to the floor and fuck her until she’s screaming my name is so strong, it shakes me to my core.
I pull away, breathing hard.
She’s breathing hard, too. We stand there for a silent moment, faces inches apart, hearts pounding, until she licks her lips and says in a husky whisper, “Five out of ten.”
“Bollocks. That was the best kiss you’ve ever had, and you know it.”
“I think you can do better.”
She pulls my head down and fits her mouth against mine
This time, the kiss is slower. Softer, but somehow deeper. It goes on and on, getting hotter and hungrier, until she’s squirming against me and my dick is a throbbing steel bar.
I flex my pelvis into hers. She moans softly in the back of her throat. When I break away this time, I’m panting and more than a little dizzy.
She opens her eyes and gazes up at me. Cheeks flushed, lips wet, she looks incredible. Satan did a good job when he created her.
“Six,” she breathes. “C’mon, gangster. Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got.”
“That was a fucking ten. And you’re not in charge here.”
She says teasingly, “You keep saying that, but I’m not sure if it’s me you’re trying to convince or yourself.”
I fist a hand into her hair, sink the other into a plush ass cheek, and hold her head steady as I kiss her again.
I don’t stop until she’s grinding her pelvis against mine and mewling like a kitten.
“Ten,” I growl against her mouth.
Without opening her eyes, she says faintly, “Seven and a half. And that’s being generous.”
When I let loose a blistering string of curses in Gaelic, she laughs. It’s low, pleased, and as maddening as it is sexy.
My heartbeat flying, I put my mouth next to her ear. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you, lass?”
“Live dangerously and you live right.”
I pull away and gaze at her, astonished. “Goethe? Now you’re quoting fucking Goethe?”
She smiles. “Just because I’m cute doesn’t mean my brain is tiny.”
Then she pushes me away, props her hands on her hips, and sends me a look of icy disdain that would make any queen proud. “Oh. I just remembered.”
“What?”
“I hate you.”
We stare at each other. She’s saved from strangulation when my cell phone rings. When I see the number on the screen, I thrust the phone at her and snap, “You have thirty seconds.”
Then I whirl around and walk away, blowing out a hard breath and dragging a shaking hand through my hair. Trying to pull myself together.
I should’ve never taken that gag off her mouth.
“Hello? Nat! Oh my god, I was so worried about you.”
Behind me, Sloane pauses, listening. Then she laughs. “Me? Don’t be ridiculous! You know I always land on my feet.”
Another pause. “Yes, I’m sure it looked bad. But security cameras make everything look worse. It was much less dramatic in real…yes, I did hit my head. Yes, everyone was shooting at each other, but…oh, babe. I’m fine. I promise.”
She listens for a while, then says firmly, “Natalie. Take a breath. I haven’t been beaten. I haven’t been dismembered. I haven’t been buried in a shallow grave.”
I look at her over my shoulder with what I hope are evil, slitted eyes that transmit Yet.
She makes a face and waves a dismissive hand in the air like I’m being silly.
“No, no, I’m being treated very well. No, he doesn’t have a gun pointed at my head right now. Actually…”
A new look comes into her eyes. It’s crafty and confident and worries me.
“Well, if you must know, he’s halfway in love with me already.”
My mouth drops open.
She’s laughing into the phone. “Right? Poor guy. He was a goner from the first time we met.”
I know she’s just trying to aggravate me, but that’s exactly what she said about Stavros. I think I’m going to break something. Maybe her knees.
I stride toward her, holding out my hand for the phone, but she backs away, waving me off like I’m an annoying fly.
“No, tell Kage not to do that. It’s not necessary.”
I stop a foot away and glare down her, breathing fire from my nose. I’d grab the phone, but the mention of Kage makes me hesitate. I want to hear where this conversation is going. What he has planned.
She gazes calmly up at me, staring straight into my eyes when she says, “Declan would never hurt me, that’s why. Even if he wanted to. Which he usually does. How do I know?” Her smile is soft. “Because he gave me his word.”
I mouth I lied.
She sticks out her tongue.
“Now, listen, Nat. I need you to do something for me. Tell your man to call off the cavalry. Tell him that Declan wants to have a sit-down and work this whole war thing out. Tell him that—”
I grab the phone from her, cover the receiver with my hand, and snap, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She meets my furious gaze with a level one of her own. “Saving your ass, gangster.”
“It doesn’t need saving.”
“You might change your mind when you hear that Kage put out a thirty-million-dollar bounty on your head for kidnapping me. Whichever one of the families kills you first gets the money, plus their access to shipping and distribution restored.” Her smile is smug. “There’s another thirty mil for whoever returns me safely to New York. So now you’re the only one with a target on his back. Funny how fast this game can change, isn’t it?”
When I only stare at her, infuriated by her hubris, she says politely, “I’ll be rubbing this in later, but for now, may I get back to my call, please?”
I put the phone to my ear. Looking into Sloane’s eyes as I speak, I say, “Tell Kazimir that if he doesn’t cancel both bounties within the hour, Sloane’s mutilated body will be dumped on his doorstep by midnight.”
I disconnect and glare at her.
She folds her arms over her chest and glares back. “That wasn’t smart.”
Seething, I say softly, “You have no idea what kind of game is being played here, lass. None at all. You’re absolutely fucking clueless. And to tell you the truth, I’m sick of listening to you run that bloody mouth.”
I slip the phone into my coat pocket. When I start to work at the knot in my tie, she backs up, shaking her head.
“Don’t you dare try to gag me, gangster.”
I whip it off and stalk toward her.
“I’m warning you!” she shouts, stumbling backward. “I’ll kick your ass!”
I lunge.
She yelps and whirls around to run away, but I’m too close. I grab her by the scruff of her neck and yank her against my chest.
I’m rewarded for that move by her heel smashing down onto the top of my foot.
It’s a hard strike. A good one. But it takes a hell of a lot more than that to stop me when I’ve lost my temper.
And I’ve finally lost it. Honestly, it’s a miracle I’ve held on to it this long.
I shove her face-down onto the bed. Twisting like a caged animal, she kicks and screams as I straddle her waist. She’s furious she can’t budge me. When I pin her arms behind her back, she kicks up with her heel and catches me right in the kidney.
I forget about wanting to stuff the tie down her throat and tie it around her wrists instead.
The punishment I’m about to administer doesn’t require silence.
She’s shouting. Bucking like a wild bull, trying to throw me off. I realize she hates to not be the one in control almost as much as she hates to show anything remotely close to weakness.
It gives me a profound sense of satisfaction that I’m subjecting her to both.
“Fuck you and your laughing!” she hollers.
“Come on, hellcat. Weren’t you supposed to be kicking my ass? So far, I give you a five out of ten.”
“Prick!”
“Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got. I think you can do better.”
Frustrated that I’m throwing her words back at her, she lets loose a scream. She screams louder when I laugh again.
I sit on the edge of the bed and drag her onto my lap, holding her down with one hand gripped around the back of her neck, the other around her hip.
It’s not easy. She’s fighting me hard. And she’s stronger than she looks. I have to give her credit for that. But she can’t match my strength, no matter how hard she fights.
I yank down her underwear—my underwear—to the middle of her thighs and rain down a series of sharp, stinging blows with my open hand on her bare arse.
She sucks in a breath, back stiffening.
“You deserve every one of those,” I say through gritted teeth. “And every one that’s coming.”
I spank her again and again until my palm is hot and her bottom is bright red. I’m so intent on what I’m doing, I don’t notice until I stop that she’s no longer struggling. She lies still, her cheek pressed to the mattress, her eyes closed. She’s breathing as hard as I am.
Trembling, too. Her entire body is trembling.
And my dick is as hard as a rock.
After a moment, she whispers brokenly, “Three out of ten.”
It’s a dare.
My breath leaves my chest in a ragged rush. I stare down at her naked arse—firm, round, cherry red—and am almost overcome by a savagely powerful need to take it.
To release my aching cock from my trousers and shove it deep inside her.
To hold her down and fuck her hard while I bite her neck.
To listen to her cry out as I come inside her, pulling her hair.
To punish her, dominate her, make her submit to me.
To make her mine.
Her eyes drift open. She looks up at me. Whatever she sees on my face sends a shiver through her body.
I growl, “Not a fucking word.”
She swallows. Licks her lips. Tries to do box breathing to calm herself and fails.
I like her like this.
Obedient and mercifully silent, obviously turned on. That she’s allowing me to keep her on my lap without struggling or trying to get away tells me that she enjoyed that spanking, just as much as her erratic breathing and flushed face do.
Or maybe it’s how hard she’s trembling. Or that wild look in her eyes, like she’s unsure what I’m going to do next and can’t decide if she likes not knowing or hates it.
Watching her face closely, I say, “I’ve got a question for you, hellcat. And if there’s been any time since we met that you need to tell me the truth, it’s now.”
She squeezes her eyes shut.
“No, don’t hide from me. Open your eyes.”
She turns her face to the bedsheets.
I drop my voice and say her name. It’s a warning, and she knows it.
Her voice muffled by the sheets, she says, “Please don’t make me say it.”
“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”
After a pause, she speaks in a miserable whisper. “Yes, I do. And we both know the answer. And I couldn’t bear it if you made me say it out loud. I’ll hate myself forever. Please don’t make me say it, Declan. Please.”
Ah, fuck. What that does to me.
It’s like she plugged me into a socket. Electricity jolts through my body. Adrenaline floods my veins. I break out in a sweat, and my heartbeat goes arrhythmic. My dick aches, my balls are tight, and holy fuck, I want this woman so much, my mouth waters.
And all it would take is to force her to admit she wants me to keep going.
Which she does…but also doesn’t.
I exhale slowly, gathering my self-control.
I flip her over, settle her between my spread thighs, and grasp her jaw in my hand.
I kiss her. Deeply.
She responds, sagging against the arm I’ve got wound around her back and making a soft, feminine sound of pleasure deep in her throat.
Then I push her off my lap, stand, and walk out of the room.
In a life full of difficult moments, this one makes the top five.
