“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
“What does it look like?” she replied calmly. “I’m packing my bag.”
Anger sharpened inside him. “You’re not leaving.”
“The hell I’m not.”
“No, you’re not. It’s late and it’s snowing, and the driving conditions are going to be shitty.”
Honor tossed a silky white blouse into her case. “Are you seriously telling me what to do?”
He folded his arms. “Yes.”
“I see. So are you going to lock me in? Because that’s the only way you’re going to stop me from leaving.”
He didn’t understand why he should be so disappointed by the thought, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it. “You’re not leaving,” he said fiercely. “You’re running away.”
She stilled, holding a skirt in one hand. “I’m not running away.”
“I give you an orgasm, then you bolt from the room and start packing? Of course you’re fucking running away.” He held her gaze. “I’d like to know why.”
“That’s none of your business.” She folded the skirt, laying it in her suitcase.
“Bullshit it isn’t. Especially since I was the one giving you the orgasm.”
“Not everything is about you, Mr. Woolf.”
His patience, already at a breaking point, snapped. Shoving himself away from the door, Gabriel stalked into the room. “Oh no, we’re not going to go back to that ‘Mr. Woolf’ shit again.” He strode around the bed to where she stood, her expression set in stone, blue eyes glittering. “You called me by my name, climbed in my lap, let me touch you to orgasm, then you ran away like I’d burned you. I want to know the fuck why.”
She lifted her chin, shoulders squaring. “What does it matter to you? Or is it a case of blue balls and you’re too damn lazy to use your own hand?”
He stared at her, searching her pale face. “Did I hurt you?”
Her jaw tightened. “No.”
“Because I don’t hurt women, Honor. Yeah, I’m a coldhearted bastard but I won’t hurt a woman on purpose or do something she doesn’t want.”
“No, you manipulate them instead.”
“That goes both ways, little girl. You didn’t have to climb into my lap the way you did. No one forced you into it.”
“You forced me to come here with you though.”
“Did I?”
“Of course you did. Your investment offer was based on me giving you a personal tour of the hotel.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
“I did if I wanted you to invest in Tremain.”
“That was your choice.”
She turned away, silky black hair falling forward, veiling her expression. “You’re a bastard, Gabriel Woolf. A certified, grade-A bastard.”
Like he didn’t know that already. But this was the first time that hearing it made him feel … shitty. As if her opinion mattered to him. A complication he didn’t need and couldn’t afford. “I never pretended I was anything different,” he said. “You knew what you were getting yourself into when you came into the library. I told you. And yet you still got in my lap.” He took a step toward her. “If you didn’t like the orgasm I gave you, then just say so.”
“Oh, if it’s your prowess you’re worried about then don’t. The orgasm was earth-shaking.” The edge of sarcasm in her voice was cold and sharp.
“I couldn’t give a fuck about my prowess. You’re scared and you won’t tell me why.”
Honor ignored him, reaching for another blouse that was lying on the bed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her gently around to face him. There was anger in her eyes, color on her cheeks. “Let me go.”
“I didn’t pick you for a coward, Honor.”
A fierce blue flame leapt in her eyes. She stepped right up close to him, inches away. “You want to know why I ran? Because the first orgasm I ever had that wasn’t via my vibrator had to come from you.”
His breath caught, a bolt of something hot and intense shooting through him in response. A primitive satisfaction he couldn’t deny.
She saw it, her lip curling. “And naturally enough now you think you’re God.”
“No, I think what fucking poor taste in men you must have had up until now.”
Her gaze flickered. “Let go of me.”
He ignored her. Jesus, he didn’t understand it. She was beautiful, intelligent, articulate. Yet she’d never come with a man before. Why not? Had she only chosen losers in bed or were there other reasons? “Why? Why me?”
Her mouth was a hard line. “I have no idea. It should have been with a man I like and respect, not with … with someone I don’t.”
He studied her, looking into her glittering blue eyes. She was a fighter and she’d been battling him since day one, playing his game like a pro. A strong woman who didn’t take any crap. A woman who liked to be in control. “It’s because I won’t do what you say like a good boy, isn’t it? You’re used to being the one in charge all the time, but you’re not with me. And you like it. It turns you on.”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course I don’t like it.”
“I felt you come around my fingers, baby. I heard you sob in my ear. You didn’t just like it, you loved it.”
Her cheeks flushed, her gaze flickering away from his. “Please, I need to go.”
Oh, no, she wasn’t going anywhere. Gabriel tugged on her wrist, pulling her closer. “That scares you, doesn’t it? Not being in control. Not being in charge.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” He took her other wrist in a gentle grip, then, before she could move, held them both behind her back, forcing her body against his. Her breath hissed in her throat, her blue eyes gone dark. She smelled of flowers, of musk. An arousing, sensual scent that made him ache. “No wonder you’ve never had a decent orgasm. You haven’t met a man strong enough to give you what you want. A chance to let your guard down.”
She didn’t fight him but her body was stiff with tension. “Th-that’s not true.”
“No wonder you prefer your vibrator. You get to control all of the action, how deep, how hard. You never have to give yourself up to anyone. Never have to trust.” It was wrong of him to do this, strip her of her protection. Expose her, make her vulnerable. But he wouldn’t stop. To get the information he wanted, he had to get closer to her. “You like me holding you like this, don’t you?”
“No.” She didn’t struggle, didn’t move. “I hate it.”
“You’re such a liar. You love it because you don’t have any control. Because I’m in charge now, not you.”
She said nothing, turned her head away. The blue silk of her blouse pulled tight across her breasts as she breathed, the warmth of her body seeping through him. Christ, with her resting against him he’d gone from being cold to blazing like a furnace.
“You’re always the one in charge,” he went on softly. “Making the decisions, taking action. You can never let yourself go, not even for an instant. Always cool, always calm. Always strong.”
Her throat moved, her breathing quickening. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, except that I think you don’t want to be. You tell yourself you’re fine with the way things are, but secretly, you want just one moment where you don’t have to be strong. Where you don’t have to be cool or calm. Where you can let go.”
Her lashes lay on her cheeks, like splashes of black ink. She was still but he could feel the tremble in her body. “That’s not true.”
“It is true. You told me your fantasy, remember? You want to feel but it scares the shit out of you. And that’s why you’re leaving.”
She was silent but he could see the pulse at the base of her throat racing. Hear the ragged sounds of her breathing.
This is a mistake. You want this too much. Want her too much.
The warning was inconvenient, so he ignored it. There was nothing wrong with wanting her. It was p
assing lust, that was all. He was still in control and that’s all that mattered.
“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I can’t afford to let go. I can’t afford to feel.”
“Why the fuck not?”
Finally she looked up at him, her eyes dark. “Because I want to too badly.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand.”
“It’s a weakness. My father ruined himself chasing a good feeling and from what I’ve seen, Alex is already halfway down that path. Addiction can be hereditary, so what chance have I got? Especially when you make me feel far too good, Gabriel.”
There was a painful honesty in her eyes that he wasn’t expecting, a momentary vulnerability that hurt for some reason. “It’s just sex, Honor. It’s not a drug. One night won’t make any difference. And besides…” He didn’t know how or why, but the truth came out of him before he was even aware of it. “You’re not alone. Sometimes just feeling is what I want, too.”
Her eyes widened, searching his face as if looking for something she’d lost. “You do?”
Fuck, why had he said that? Revealing parts of himself was not in any way part of his plan. Which meant he had to end this conversation before he lost it and gave away anything more.
Gabriel bent his head and covered her mouth with his.
She stiffened for an instant, her arms pulling against his wrists. Then she made a helpless sound in the back of her throat and all her tension melted away, her body going soft against him. Her mouth opened, letting him in, and he tasted heat and the smoky sweetness of the scotch. Christ, she was delicious. She went straight to his head.
He kissed her deeper, exploring her mouth as he gripped her wrists harder, bending her body into a perfect arch against him. Her breasts pressed to his chest, her hips to his, the hard ridge of his cock against the soft warmth between her thighs.
She shuddered, kissing him back, just as hot, just as hungry as he was. The desire that had been simmering inside him ignited into life again, a sharp, intense ache.
He lifted his mouth, looked down into her flushed face, her mouth full and red from his kiss. There was something defiant in her eyes. Something that called to the hunter inside him, that twisted the hunger tighter.
“We made a deal, Honor St. James,” he said roughly. “It’s too late to pull out now. You had a fantasy remember? It’s too cold for the bike, but we can make that fantasy come true right here, right now.”
* * *
Honor was so aroused she couldn’t breathe. And it shouldn’t work that way. She shouldn’t be so completely turned on by a man holding her wrists behind her back, the length of his powerful body up against hers.
Not just any man. Gabriel.
Her mouth burned from his kiss. Everywhere burned. Like the mere touch of him scalded her and now she was desperate for relief.
She looked up into his eyes and felt stripped bare. Like he saw everything, knew everything. She didn’t know how he’d managed to guess those things about her, how he knew exactly what scared her, or even why she’d told him about her fears. But no matter how afraid she was, she wanted to believe he was right. That it was only sex. That one night wouldn’t hurt. Because she did want to let go. Wanted, for a moment, not to have to be in control. To not care. To embrace the rush and the sheer intensity of physical pleasure.
But she didn’t know how. The thought of letting go terrified her. Because what if it was good? What if she wanted it again? And again, and again, and again? What if she couldn’t get enough of him? Of this?
Yet that fantasy of him inside her, holding her hands so she couldn’t fight or move thrilled her down to her bones.
She would have no choice but to accept whatever he wanted to give her. No option but to let go.
He shifted his hips against hers, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her, making her want to rock against it, get the friction she craved. “Tell me more of your fantasy. About me fucking you with your hands behind your back.”
She swallowed, afraid to give in. “N-no.”
“Do it.”
“No.” She arched against him, the hard press of his zipper between her legs sending small, sharp electric shocks through her.
He bent his head, his mouth brushing her jawline, then lower, against the side of her neck. Then he bit her.
She gasped, the sensation streaking down her spine, pleasure mixed with a dart of pain that had her trembling. “Oh … God…”
“The words, baby,” he said softly, his breath against her skin. “Or you don’t get to have it.”
He held her so tightly and there was no escape. No choice now but to give in.
She closed her eyes. “P-please. I want … you to hold my hands behind my back and … f-fuck me.”
His grip on her shifted, her wrists crossed and held in the small of her back by one strong hand. Then she felt his free hand slide under her skirt, his fingers cupping the back of her thigh, sliding upward.
She trembled, shutting her eyes tighter, the breath catching in her throat. His hand slid up to the curve of her butt and stopped, long fingers moving between her thighs.
Oh … Holy God …
He gently brushed over the lacy fabric of her panties. “You’re wet. You want this so badly, don’t you?”
Honor shuddered in his hold, unable to stop the soft gasp that escaped her.
Another tantalizing brush of his fingertips. “Tell me. Or it doesn’t happen.”
“Y-yes … please…”
“Please who?”
“G-Gabriel. Please, Gabriel.”
“Good girl. Now stand just like that. Don’t move.”
She kept her eyes closed, standing there motionless as he released her, unable to stop shaking, her hands behind her back.
You should have left while you’d had the chance.
Maybe she should have. But she hadn’t. And now it was too late. She couldn’t have walked away from this if she’d tried.
His hands slid up her thighs, underneath her skirt. Fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, jerking hard, the sound of fabric tearing. She inhaled sharply, some deep part of her, the wild part, thrilled by the roughness of the motion, the pull and release as the lace fell away from her.
Then his hands on her thighs again, urging her forward. She didn’t want to look, happy with the darkness. It was easier to concentrate on sensation. She went where those hands put her but when they pushed her skirt up, she trembled. Bare from the waist down and now, he could see her.
She screwed her eyes shut even tighter, trying to calm her breathing and failing.
“Pretty,” he murmured, his voice soft and dark, fingers stroking through the curls between her thighs. “You look as good as you feel.”
Honor shivered. The blackness behind her eyes was threaded through with spikes of white light, spiraling behind her lids as he touched her. Small bolts of lightning.
“Come here.” He pulled her forward and she realized he was sitting on the edge of the bed, making her straddle him. Once she was sitting, facing him, he gripped her wrists and held them behind her back again.
She swallowed, listening. Was he breathing as fast as she was? Was he shaking like she was?
Does that matter to you?
Yes, it did. The grip on her wrists released and she opened her eyes, looked down.
Gabriel was in the process of leaning back, undoing his jeans, his gaze on her. And the look in his eyes …
The air between them caught fire. Igniting in a sheet of flame, the heat burning the air from her lungs.
He said nothing as he pulled his jeans open, as he reached for the foil packet beside him on the bed. He freed his cock, ripping the packet open and sheathing himself. His movements were slow, controlled, his gaze never leaving hers.
She couldn’t temper her breathing, the heat of his body like a furnace beneath her open, exposed flesh. The muscles of her thighs locked. This was too much.
Instinc
t had her rising as he straightened, his hand reaching behind her to grip her crossed wrists in a tight hold, preventing her from getting away. Those dark eyes were inches from her own, his mouth within kissing distance. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered roughly. “I won’t hurt you.”
But it wasn’t hurt she was afraid of. It was the fierce, uncontrollable pleasure she knew he’d give her that she wasn’t sure she could handle. Not again.
He seemed to understand though. “It’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”
And he kept his gaze on hers as she felt one hand on her hip, guiding, positioning her.
Then his fingers spread her open and he was pushing her down onto him. Sensitive flesh stretched and she cried out, trembling all over, pleasure catching in her throat.
Too much. Too much.
Yet his hand around her wrists was a shackle and she couldn’t escape from the sensation. Couldn’t run. Could only sit there and take it as he moved deeper inside her, fire in the shadowy gaze that pinned her to the spot, which made it so she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
“Gabriel…” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “God…”
“Keep still.” The words were a ragged threat that didn’t even sound like him. There was a fierce expression on his face, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His fingers around her wrists were like iron and he was breathing fast, his powerful chest heaving.
She wasn’t the only one feeling the intensity of this. He did, too.
For some reason that made it better. Made it easier to cope with.
Honor sucked in a breath, the fear beginning to fade. She wanted to move, anything to ease the ache. “Please … let me…”
Gabriel bit off a low curse, the hand on her hip gripping her tight. Then at last he let her move, his hand guiding her, his hips thrusting up as she rose and fell on him. The slow glide of him inside her was so intense she had to close her eyes again, biting her lip to stop the moan that crowded her throat.
Her thighs shook. Her whole body trembled. She couldn’t take this. She was going to drown, lose herself in the sharp, vicious pleasure that flooded every part of her. She strained against his hands, arching her body in a reflexive need to get away, reduce the intensity somehow. Escape. Because she just couldn’t handle it.
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