Reading Online Novel

Bound by the Millionaire's Ring(14)



     



 

Ramon didn't express humor at the touch of her mouth. Or stop her.

He slid his arms around her so they banded across her back and held her in place as he stole control of their kiss.

She might have groaned as his mouth crushed hers. It was impossible to  hear over a song blaring about not being able to stop the feeling.

A shudder of relief went through her as he slaked a thirst she'd  suffered for years. It was not unlike falling into bed after a long day.  Like tasting a rich dessert as it melted on her tongue.

Like kissing a man she had always found insanely attractive.

Don't do this, she warned herself, but couldn't resist. He kissed like  the expert he was and his abundant skill made her furious enough,  jealous enough, to kiss him back without inhibition. In silence, using  only the rock of her mouth beneath his and the spear of her tongue into  his mouth, she mused, Feel that, Ramon?

She was beautiful. In that moment, she was confident in her attraction.  Arrogant. Other men came on to her. They were going crazy for her  tonight. Why not him? He didn't know what he was missing. This. This is  what he could have had all this time, if he had only asked.

She dug her fingers into his hair to draw him down and pressed her mouth  more firmly to his. She stroked her tongue against his and groaned  again, unreservedly, strong enough he must have felt the vibration in  her throat. Arching her back, she rubbed her breasts against his chest,  following the beat in the music that throbbed around them.

Their kiss became a dirty dance. He dropped his hand to her backside and  firmly snugged her hips into his, working with the pulse of the song.  His other hand brushed aside the front of her jumpsuit so he claimed her  bare breast, his palm hot. He splayed his fingers and massaged, tongue  stabbing against hers.

He was hard.

Mind blown, she rocked her hips between his firm caress of her cheek and  the ridge of flesh that proved he found her desirable. That reaction in  him ought to make her feel superior. She should have pushed away at  that point to give him a scathing and triumphant "ha!"

But the allure of rubbing against him was too much. The tips of her  breasts ached. Her loins felt hollow and needy. She couldn't resist  staying exactly where she was, moving against him in time to the music.

He kept her against him as he turned and shuffled backward, drawing her  down as he sat. She flowed weakly, like she was under a spell, more than  happy to let him pull her astride his lap as he lowered into a chair.  Both his wide hands slid to her lower back and cupped her butt to pull  her hard against his fly.

A flash of sensation went through her, so sharp she threw back her head  and let out a gasp, seeing nothing but shadows moving on the ceiling, as  dark and mysterious as the sensations that flowed through her.

That moment might have given her pause, but he kissed her throat. He  cupped her breast and plumped it again, dipping his head to bite gently  at the upper swell, then flicked her nipple with his tongue.

She arched, wanting that tease, but wanting to rock herself against that hard ridge between her legs.

His hand on her hip urged her to move against his fly, to take up the  rhythm of the song again, while he pinched her nipple and lifted his  head to kiss her once more.

At the edges of her consciousness, she knew this was filthy. They were  practically in public. He must have snuck behind a thousand curtains  with other women, given how quickly and easily he had lured her here.

But with her knees wide and her heeled shoes braced on the floor, she  was the woman pressed sex-to-sex with him tonight. The only thing  between them was a few layers of fabric and they might as well have been  naked for all the dulling of sensation.

And she was mad at him. Mad for him.

Maybe she thought she could make him break first. She wasn't really  examining her motives, just reacting to the pleasure of rubbing against  him while being in the control position, riding his lap, driving him  crazy.

"Do you like that?" She caught at his earlobe with her teeth, arms folded behind his neck, breasts mashed to his chest.

His fingers dug in to the seam that traced the cleft of her butt. He bit out a really graphic curse of agreement. "Keep going."

She faltered. He was hard all over. He had admitted he enjoyed what she  was doing to him. Here was the point she should pull away and show him  she could take him or leave him. If she kept going...

How far did he expect her to go?

He bared her other breast, the cool air erotic and dangerous.  Stimulating. The brush of his fingers against her aching nipple sent a  spark of acute need into her loins. Heat flooded into her chest, making  her breasts feel fuller and more sensitive. Her sex grew needier.  Greedier.

Instinct made her take up the rock against him again, or maybe it was his hand on her butt.         

     



 

This was getting out of control. Either way, lightning streaked into the place between her legs.

She shifted her grip to the back of his chair while his flat hand  against her tailbone kept her hips tight to his. He lifted into her,  continuing to excite her as he caught her mouth in a kiss that was  insanely wicked. His tongue sought hers as he practically made love to  her fully clothed in that chair, lifting her higher into the cloud of  acute arousal. Driving her toward climax.

She was a virgin, but she knew how to give herself an orgasm if she  wanted one. She had never felt a strong need for a man to perform that  duty, but here she was, legs splayed, encouraging the lethal thrust of  his hips against her. It was primal and, damn, he knew exactly how to  play against her button of nerves like a bow against strings.

She had no will to stop his pushing her toward the brink, loving  everything he was doing to her, no longer caring where she was, only  wanting this.

She wanted that rush, wanted to feel it here, in his arms. Ramon's arms.  Ramon's hips rolling against hers until she quivered on the edge.

The tension grew so intense she tried to close her thighs, but she  couldn't. She was at his mercy, the coil of desire pulling into  unbearable need that made her catch back a sob.

She clutched the back of the chair and closed her teeth on his bottom  lip, trying to fight the rising wave, but he palmed her breast and kept  up the relentless lift of his hips against hers. Shivers went down her  spine, making her shoulder blades flex. She arched as the tingle spread  across her lower back, then poured like liquid pleasure through her  loins and thighs.

Release shuddered through her in a rush of joy. Sexy, hungry pulses  followed, making her grind against him with abandon, eager to wring  every last clench of deliciousness from their encounter.

It was so good...so good.

And so solitary.

She felt the dry laugh that went through him. The hoarse sound could have been a saber, it rent her so badly.

She wilted into his caging arms, shaken and breathless. Defeated.

This man had possessed her attention for far too long and now owned what shreds of dignity she had managed to preserve.

This was the most humiliating encounter of her life.

And there was no coming back from it.





CHAPTER SIX

"COME HERE," RAMON said the second he closed the door of his flat.

He could barely speak and didn't even remember getting here. He vaguely  recalled a quick exit through a service door and a brisk walk through a  bustling kitchen to the underground car park. That sort of disappearing  act was exactly what he paid his security service to provide.

All that mattered was that he had her alone now. Properly alone, where  he could strip off that maddening jumpsuit and satisfy both of them this  time. If she had been wearing a dress tonight... But she hadn't been  and damn it, he was aching to finish what they'd started.

She sent him a baleful glance. "Where are the extra blankets? I'll take the sofa."

She clutched her sheer black wrap like it was a trench coat, her mouth  clean of lipstick from their kisses, her eyes dark with betrayal.

"Qué?" His voice came out harsher than he intended as he clung to  something he could see was already moving beyond his reach, even before  she spoke again.

"I told you I wouldn't sleep with you."

Then she had lap-danced him into believing she wanted to. She had come  apart in his arms with such abandon, he'd nearly exploded. His heart was  still thudding, hammering an obsessive pulse in the stiff flesh between  his thighs.

Want. Need. Have.

But the wariness in her expression put the brakes on that. He firmly  believed in a woman's right to change her mind, but he searched her  expression, trying to understand how they had gone from ecstasy to  aversion in a five-minute car ride. It put his lungs in a vise.

"Why did you say you wanted to leave, then?"

I want to go. The crack in her voice and the final twitch of postclimax  that had shivered through her as she'd sat up, pressing her weight into  his straining flesh, had been all the excuse he'd needed for a very  swift and wordless departure from his own party.

"I couldn't face people after that!" She hugged herself, eyes wide and appalled.