Читать книгу The Dare Collection January 2020 - Lauren Hawkeye, A.C. Arthur - Страница 20

THE JEWELS AROUND my neck were heavy and cold compared with the man standing at my back. He felt like the sun blazing away behind me, bathing me in heat.

His hands deftly got rid of the shirt I’d pulled on when I’d woken up that morning, slipping it from my shoulders so it fell onto the floor, leaving me standing there naked but for the necklace.

I shivered, and not because I was cold. I could never be cold with Damian Blackwood around.

His hands settled on my hips, his touch blazing through me like sunlight, his warm mouth nuzzling against my neck.

I should never have risked coming into his office like this, but when I’d woken up that morning and found him gone, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity. I’d been planning to stay awake, to wait until he’d fallen asleep and then go back for the necklace, but some time after that fourth orgasm he’d put his arms around me, bringing me up against his hot, hard body, and I’d just...fallen asleep. I’d slept like the dead, something I never did, which wasn’t the best when I was here for a reason.

It was only that he’d been so...dirty, pushing my boundaries, making me want things I’d never thought I would. Try things I’d never thought I’d try. And, more than that, he’d made me feel so good, like a goddess. Beautiful. Special.

I shuddered against him as his mouth found the sensitive place where my shoulder met my neck, trying to get my stupid brain into gear. Of course he’d figured out I was a virgin—I’d been stupid to forget about that—but it was difficult to think when he kissed me.

It had been difficult to think from the moment I’d laid eyes on him, lounging in the doorway watching me.

He hadn’t been in a suit this morning, but a grey T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans that had holes in the knees. Simple clothes that fitted him like a second skin, highlighting a muscular chest and shoulders, lean hips and powerful thighs. His black hair had been spiked up, the ring in his eyebrow shining, his silver eyes burning with an intensity that stole my breath.

He’d been so damned hot all I could do was stand there and stare at him as he’d sauntered over to where I’d stood, pulling aside the painting and accessing his safe. He’d watched me all the while, electricity crackling in the space between us, twice as intense as it had been last night.

And then he’d brought out the Red Queen and held it up.

But it hadn’t been the necklace that had held my attention. It had been him and his gaze and the heat blazing in it.

I’d expected him to act there and then, put me in a room and lock the door, keep me safely contained until the police arrived. Because of course he would have called the police. I was a thief come to steal his precious jewels, after all.

Except he hadn’t done any of those things.

He’d taken the necklace out and draped it around my neck, stripped me bare and pulled me against him, kissing me as if he wanted more.

And of course asking me questions. I hadn’t forgotten that.

If you don’t answer my questions, you don’t get to come.

His large, warm palms burned against my skin, his mouth an ember against my shoulder. I closed my eyes, unable to help leaning back into him. He was so much bigger than I was, so much stronger, and I could feel that strength in the hard muscle I was leaning against.

He could hurt me if he wanted and there would be nothing I could do about it. I’d learned some rudimentary self-defence moves from Mr Chen but nothing that would help me against this man.

It should have scared me, but it didn’t. He’d been nothing but gentle with me the night before, and he was nothing but gentle now, and I didn’t feel afraid.

It was almost as if he was a wall at my back, standing between me and the rest of the world, and instead of feeling afraid I felt almost...protected, somehow.

A dangerous thing to feel. I could never let my guard down, not now Mr Chen was gone. It was his legacy I was protecting and that was something I took very seriously. I couldn’t let anyone threaten it, most especially not the powerful, sexy man standing behind me.

‘The rubies are pretty on you,’ he murmured, one hand sliding up from my bare hip to touch the jewels hanging between my breasts. ‘But I’d love to see you in pearls.’

My mouth had gone dry. I knew I should be doing something to save myself, but all I could think of was seducing him the way I had last night. And I couldn’t tell if that was something I wanted for myself or so I could get out of the situation.

‘P-pearls?’ I stuttered, trying to grab my flailing thoughts.

‘Yeah, you’d look perfect in them. I love sparkle; don’t get me wrong. Sometimes I’m in the mood for showy and that means a diamond.’ His finger slid off the ruby and onto my skin, tracing the underside of my left breast, making another delicious shiver move over my skin. ‘But other times I’m in the mood for subtle and mysterious, in which case it’s pearls.’

I swallowed, trying to breathe properly. ‘Are you saying I’m subtle and mysterious?’

‘You’re definitely mysterious.’ His mouth brushed behind my ear once more, heat washing over me. ‘Thea.’ It sounded as if he was tasting my name, turning it into something sensual rather than just the first name the nun who’d found me on her doorstep had given me.

My head fell back against his shoulder, my eyelids feeling heavy. They wanted to close, and my body wanted to lean into his heat and strength, let him touch me any way he wanted. Take as much pleasure from him before the hard slap of reality came again—because it did; it always did.

You’ll go back to being a ghost in the walls again.

‘What are you doing here?’ Damian’s fingers spread out, cupping my breast gently in his palm. His thumb teased my already hard nipple, making me gasp. ‘Who are you?’

Why not tell him?

So many reasons, not the least being Mr Chen’s business. He’d treated me like a daughter and that required that I protect what he’d built. Even though he’d decided against formally adopting me in the end.

‘You’re not my blood, Thea,’ he’d told me. ‘And, anyway, you’re too unstable. Too wild.’

It had been hard to hear that, to know that no matter how hard I’d tried to force my feelings down to take on the lessons of calm and silence that he’d taught me, I still hadn’t been good enough for him. But that was okay.

He’d left me his business and that was a pretty major gesture of trust all on its own. And if looking after that legacy meant I remained alone, well, so be it.

I’d always thought I was okay with it, but now, with Damian’s arms around me, I wasn’t so sure. Would it be so bad to share a few things about myself with another person? I’d already given him my name, after all.

His thumb brushed steadily back and forth over my aching nipple and I shut my eyes. ‘I’m Thea Smith.’ My surname another name the English nuns had given me. ‘And, yes, I’m here to steal the Red Queen. But it’s not for me. It’s for someone else.’

‘Who?’

That teasing thumb brushed over me again, pleasure an electric shock through my system. I sighed and leaned back into him. ‘I don’t know. Everything is done through a middle man. I never know who I’m reacquiring for.’

‘Reacquiring?’

Another electric touch, firmer. A soft pinch that made my breath catch. ‘That’s what I do. I reacquire items that have been stolen.’

Are you sure telling him this is a good idea? You don’t know what he might do with the information.

No, of course it wasn’t a good idea. But I was sick of being in the shadows, sick of not being seen. Sick of not being known.

Sick of not existing.

The sun was against my closed lids and Damian’s fingers on my breast were light, teasing. ‘Reacquisition,’ he echoed. ‘Interesting thing to call it. But there’s no record of the Red Queen being stolen.’

‘It must have been at some stage in its history otherwise I wouldn’t have been asked to reacquire it.’

‘Hmm.’ His hand spread out, cupping me, while his other hand slid down over my stomach, his fingers tangling in the curls between my thighs. ‘I guess I need to look into that.’ He pulled on the curls very gently, then his finger moved, finding my clit and grazing it lightly. I stiffened, pleasure lancing through me sharp and bright. ‘You need to tell me more about this reacquisition business.’

‘Do I...have to do it now?’ My hips lifted against his touch, restlessness and need filling me.

His laugh vibrated against my back, a deep, soft rumble that somehow made everything hotter. ‘Getting desperate, hmm?’

I shifted again, pressing back against him, the hard ridge of his cock digging into me. ‘Can you stop talking for once?’

Another sexy laugh and then I felt his teeth against the side of my neck, the sensation making me shudder in delight. ‘Can you blame me for being interested? I like a mystery.’ His finger slid around my clit and then over it, and I sucked in a ragged breath as the fierce pleasure of the sensation gripped me tight. ‘And I’ve never met a mystery like you.’

He might feel differently when he finds out how very un-mysterious you are.

The thought drifted through my head like smoke, but I let it dissipate. Of course he would, but I couldn’t think about that now. Not with his hands on me and the pleasure that was gradually building.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?’ The finger between my legs was stroking slowly, sliding over my slippery flesh and finding the entrance to my body, teasing me. ‘I would have been more careful with you.’

‘Because...’ I gasped as he slid his finger inside me, making me arch against his hand.

‘Because?’

‘I thought...you might stop. And I didn’t want you to.’ It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was all my brain was capable of.

‘Bad girl.’ The hand on my breast tightened, his fingers pinching my nipple harder, scattering bright sparks of pleasure through me. ‘You need to tell me about this stuff. I want it to be good for you, understand?’

But my brain was starting to lose the capacity to listen, let alone understand.

‘Damian.’ His name escaped on a ragged breath as I shuddered against him.

‘What? You want more?’ His teeth closed around the cords of my neck, biting down gently, making me gasp. ‘You want me to fuck you, is that what you’re trying to say?’

‘Yes.’ The word escaped on a hiss as he bit me again, his finger sliding out then into me in a long, slow glide. I didn’t even have to think about it, my body was aching for him. ‘Oh, please...’

‘But that’s not the real question. The real question you should be asking is whether you’ve answered all the questions to my satisfaction.’ He worked me with his finger and then added another, stretching me lightly as he kissed and nipped my neck and shoulder. ‘And I’m not sure that you have.’

‘Stop.’ I groaned as his other hand tortured my aching nipple. ‘Talking.’

He laughed again, his hands reducing me to a trembling, gasping mess. ‘I said you couldn’t come until you answered my questions.’

But I could feel the demand rising in me and I didn’t fight it, grinding my butt against his hard groin in response, turning his laugh into a curse then a growl. He propelled me forward to the huge windows that looked out over office towers and apartment blocks, the teeming traffic and crowds far below, and I shook as he gently pressed me face-first against the window, the glass cool against my burning skin.

‘But I want to see you,’ I protested as I looked out over Kowloon, suddenly feeling exposed. When I’d realised I wanted to be seen, I hadn’t meant pressed up against a window naked in full view of all of Hong Kong.

But then he was behind me, a wall of heat as he pressed his body up against the length of mine. ‘The window is reflective. No one can see in, I promise.’ His hands ran lightly down my sides, making goose bumps rise all over me, and I groaned, shifting against him. ‘Restless, Sugar? You’re so watchful and still, but you’re not really, are you? Not when you want me.’

No, I wasn’t still now. I was hot, desperate, needy. All the things that I couldn’t be in the kind of business I was in. All the things I wasn’t allowed to be.

And right now I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was him and his hands on my body.

‘Damian...’ I gasped, squirming against the window, the heat of my skin causing condensation to bead against the glass. ‘Turn me around. I want to look at you.’

‘Demanding, too.’ He pressed harder against me. ‘Why? Have you forgotten what I look like?’ His teeth scraped gently over the sensitive part of my neck where it met my shoulder and I shuddered. ‘Do you want me to remind you?’

He was teasing me, the bastard, and part of me liked it. ‘Please...’ I groaned as he bit me, arching. ‘Please, Damian...’

‘Fuck,’ he muttered as my butt came into contact with his hard cock. ‘You do present a powerful argument, I have to admit.’

His hands firmed and I was spun around, the glass against my back and him in front of me. He was over six foot of pure muscle, the silver ring in his eyebrow echoing the gleam of his eyes, which had gone molten with desire.

I reached for him, wanting to see the bright inks on his skin, wanting all the colour and life and heat that he represented. Wanting to touch it, get it on me somehow. Wanting to take it for myself.

And he seemed to understand because his hand dropped to his fly and he was undoing the button and zip of his jeans, getting that magnificent cock of his out. I touched him, traced the ink of his tattoo as he got a condom out and sheathed himself, his skin so hot he burned.

He’d gone quiet, the way he had last night, the lines of his face hard, no amusement there now. Only pure masculine desire.

He reached for me, gripping me as he lifted me against the window with pathetic ease, and then he was pushing inside me, the stretch of his cock making me shudder and both of us groan.

But he didn’t move, not quite yet. Instead, his gaze dropped to the jewels around my neck before rising again to my face, looking deeply into my eyes. And the sense of exposure returned. Only it wasn’t the city and the stares of unknown strangers that I was afraid of.

It was him and his silver gaze scanning the contents of my soul.

He wasn’t going to forget me the way I’d hoped; I could feel it in my bones. Yet it wasn’t that which made me feel afraid.

No, it’s the opposite. You’re afraid he’ll discover that he was wrong; that there’s nothing so very remarkable about you after all.

But I shoved the thought away, reaching for him, burying my hands in his black hair and pulling his head down, kissing him hungrily.

And he let me. He knew I was hiding, I was sure of it, but he didn’t protest. He only kissed me back, just as hungry and desperate as I was.

Then his hips flexed and he was moving inside me, hard, deep. Driving me back against the glass, every thrust sending brilliant, electric shocks of pleasure through me. I gripped his hair tight, groaning as he kept me pinned against the glass before reaching down and hauling one of my legs around his waist, opening me up so he could slide deeper.

God, it felt so good.

I might not have been anything very special, but right now, in his arms, I felt as though I was. I felt brilliant and beautiful. Sexy. Interesting. All the things I’d never thought about myself, but somehow still secretly wished I was.

He made me feel these things. It was all him.

That should have been a warning then and there and I should have stopped it. But I didn’t. I wanted to take what he was giving me, so I did.

And he gave me more, his mouth finding my nipple, sucking and biting it gently, teasing it with his tongue, making me pant and moan as he thrust steadily into me. Making me glitter and sparkle with pleasure, blazing as bright as the jewels around my neck.

Until I shattered, turning my face against his warm neck and sobbing.