‘Dishonest
little Lana,’ he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. He runs his
hands down the smoothness of my neck into the collar of my blouse.
I
begin to tremble. He watches his own fingers slip a button out of its
hole and then another. He spreads apart the joined material so my
throat, chest and the lacy tops of my bra are exposed. His cold furious
eyes return to mine. The breaths that escape my lips are suddenly
shallow and quick. He smiles possessively. He knows the effect he has
on me.
‘You
were by far more when you squeezed into that little orange dress and
your fuck-me shoes, and went looking for money. Look at you now; you’re
flapping around inside a man’s jacket. Two hundred thousand and you
don’t even buy yourself a nice suit.’
He
tuts. ‘And this…’ He raises his hand to my hair. ‘This ugly bun.
What were you thinking of?’ he asks softly, as he plucks the pins out of
my hair and drops them on the blue carpet. Bit by bit my hair falls
around my shoulders. Without moving his feet he reaches back to a box
of tissues on the table. Takes one and starts wiping away my lipstick.
Meticulously. From the outside in. He throws the stained tissue on
the ground.
‘That’s better,’ he pronounces.
I
stare wordlessly up at him. He looks as if he wants to devour me. All
the time we have been apart is wiped away. It is like we have never
been away from each other. This is the man I belong to heart and soul.
Without him I have been an empty shell going through the motions.
‘Lick your lips,’ he orders.
‘What?’ I am horrified by the cold command, and yet electrified by the sexual heat his order arouses in me. My nerves scream.
His jaw hardens; his eyes are steely. ‘You heard me.’
The
tension in his body communicates itself to me. It simmers between us.
Desire ripples through me. My thighs clench tight with excitement and
my heart flutters like a crazy thing. This is how he is in my recurring
fantasies. Demanding, possessive, taking, raging with sexual need.
I lick my lips slowly.
He eyes the journey my tongue undertakes avidly. ‘That’s more like it. That’s the mercenary bitch I know.’
One
moment he is standing there cold and insulting, and the next he has
thrust a rough hand into my hair and pulled my head back. I gasp with
shock, my eyes wide, his dark. Like a desert storm he descends on my
parted mouth. There is no time even to pull one’s cloak about oneself.
So sudden. So unexpected. He tastes wild, the way the first drops of
rain in the desert taste. Full of minerals. Bringing life to all it
touches.
He
kisses me, as he has never done. Roughly, painfully, violently,
purposely bruising my lips, his mouth so savage that I utter a
strangled, soundless cry. The change, the extent of his anger, is
impossible to comprehend. He is different. There is no longing. Only
an intense desire to hurt and have his revenge. This is not the same
man. My actions have unleashed something uncontrollable. Something
that wants to hurt me. Alarm bells go off in my head. It occurs to my
fevered brain that he is ravenous, starving. Then for some strange
reason an image of him eating thin, almost transparent slices of cheese
on biscuits flashes into my mind. How civilized he was. Then. Before I
betrayed him.
I taste the fury in his kiss: blood.
And
my mind screams—this is abuse. A moan gets caught in my throat,
struggles vainly, and then escapes. My hands reach up to push him away,
but my palms meet the stone wall of his chest, and as if with minds of
their own, push aside the lapels of his jacket and grip his shirt. I
know what once lived beneath the shirt and I want it. I have always
wanted this man. As if my hands splayed across his chest have
communicated my total submission, the kiss changes. His tongue gentles,
but demands more surrender.
The
fingers grasping my hair hurt my scalp. I feel the pain vaguely, but
more than that I feel myself begin to drown in that vortex of sexual
desire. The violent, throbbing need between my legs finds its way into
my veins and flesh. Every cell in me wants him inside me. I am on fire.
One year of waiting has made me hungry for him. I want him. I want
him thrusting that enormous dick of his deep inside me. For a year I
have dreamed of him inside me, filling me. I know how good he can make
me feel. My body tries to burrow closer to him, but I cannot get
closer; his grip on my hair is relentless. Desperately I push my hips
towards him towards what I know will be delicious hardness.
As
if that is some silent signal he puts me casually away from me. And I
am thrust back in a shitty back office in Kilburn High Street. What the
fuck am I doing? He casually props himself against the desk, folds
his arms across his chest, and looks at me calmly.
I
cannot return the insult. I am a mess. I stand there frustrated
beyond belief, breathing hard, the blood pounding like an African drum
in my head. My knickers are wet and between my legs I ache and pulse
for him. With every weak and trembling part of me I want him to finish
what he started. I want him so bad it is shocking. I clench my hands
at my sides and try to get myself under control. I look at him, how
cool and collected he is, as he watches me struggle to regain some
measure of composure.
Then
he smiles. Oh! Cocky. He shouldn’t have done that. I feel maddened
by the taunting smile. How dare he? He just wanted to humiliate me.
And then I see it. Not so fast, Mr. Blake Law Barrington.
I
take two steps forward, reach my hand out and put a finger on that
madly beating pulse in his throat. It drums into my skin. The frantic
beat is carried away by my blood up into my arm, my heart and into my
brain. Years later I will remember this moment when we are connected by
his beating pulse. We never break eye contact. His eyes darken. Now
he knows that I know—my need may be obvious and easy to exploit, but he
is not as unaffected as he pretends to be. He was testing his own
limits of control, but it hasn’t been as easy as he expected.
‘Is it sex when I want to see you come apart?’ he asks bitterly.
A breath dies in my chest. I take my finger away from his throat. ‘What do you want, Blake?’
‘I want you to finish your contract.’
Beyond the seductive power of immense wealth lies… Dark Secrets
Devastatingly
handsome billionaire, Blake Law Barrington was Lana Blooms first and
only love. From the moment they touched his power was overwhelming.
Their arrangement quickly developed into a passionate romance that
captivated her heart and took her on an incredible sexual journey she
never wanted to end.
The future together looked bright until Lana made a terrible mistake. So, she did the only thing she could… she ran.
Away
from her incredible life, away from the man of her dreams, but she
should have known a man such as Blake Law Barrington was impossible to
escape. Now, he’s back in her life and determined that she should taste
the bitterness of his pain.
Shocked
at how rough the sex has become and humiliated that she is actually
participating so willingly in her punishment, she despairs if she will
ever feel the warmth of his touch–the solidity of his trust again? And
even if she can win his trust, loyalties are yet to be decided, and
secrets to be revealed–secrets that will test them both to their limits.
Will Lana be able to tear down the walls that surround Blake’s heart, and break him free of the brutal power of immense wealth?
Can Blake hold on to Lana’s heart when she discovers the enormity of the dark secrets that inhabit the Barrington family?
Lana has always believed that love conquers all. She is about to test that belief…
Buy @ Amazon
Genre – Erotic Romance
Rating – PG-18
More details about the author
0 comments:
Post a Comment