Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1)(2)

Upon my return, I did my best to observe—all to no avail. A deep voice whispered in my ear. “May I have this dance?”

A chill of awareness instantly shot up and down my spine. I swallowed the lump in my throat and fought the urge to lean into whoever he was. “Yes,” I huskily replied. What the hell is the matter with me? Never have I had such a reaction to a man. He stepped around me. Once I was in his arms, we began to waltz around the dance floor. He was extremely tall, and his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his tux deliciously. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. He didn’t miss the motion. Due to the full mask he wore, I couldn’t get a good look at his face. But I could see his eyes, which were a brilliant light blue. They reminded me of a glacier: sharp, intense, and very observant. There really wasn’t anything else visible on him. I did notice his hair appeared to be blond, maybe a shade or so lighter than mine, and long enough that he could tie it back with a black leather thong. Everything about the man screamed danger, so, of course, I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Confidence radiated off of him in waves. I was immediately reminded of how you could tell a man made love by the way he danced. Although I was not delusional, this man would not make love. No. He would fuck. The thought made me wet. All of a sudden, I became aware of several things at once: He inexorably danced me into the shadows while Michael Bublé sang, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” The actual performer was there live, and, honestly, I couldn’t imagine a better song for how I felt at that moment. The next thing I knew, he had pulled me through a door I never noticed before.

I looked up at him and inquired, “Where are you taking me?”

His lips curved up slightly as he replied, “Somewhere quiet.”

Oh, my word. I had let a complete stranger drag me away from everyone and everything. And damn, if the idea didn’t excite me more. You would think I’d be a bit more concerned about my safety. For all I knew, this guy was an axe murderer. Yet, for some reason, I completely trusted him. I knew he would never hurt me physically. Although I was quite sure, the man had left more than one broken heart in his wake.

We slipped into a small library/office. The room was dimly lit; thus, I reached over to turn on a lamp sitting on a side table.

“Don’t,” he murmured.

I really wanted to know how his voice truly sounded. So far, the few words he had spoken were all whispered; therefore, I couldn’t hear it clearly. I did catch a slight rasp with a hint of some kind of accent but nothing discernable. Gah! The man became more frustrating by the moment. I heard the door lock, and then he was in front of me. He caressed up and down my sides, nibbling along my neck. I leaned to the side to give him better access, all the while I made little mewling noises.

He suckled the tender spot just below my earlobe. “Tell me to stop if I’ve misread the attraction between us,” he demanded.

No way in hell I was doing that. The electricity was arcing between our bodies with a mind of its own. Instead, I begged for more. “Please.”

I felt his smile along my throat. “Right answer,” he groaned. Meanwhile, I began to explore his body. I managed to push the jacket off his shoulders, as he tugged the bodice of my gown over my breasts. With his teeth, he worked the lace of my bra out of the way and then laved my nipple. The man had a wicked tongue and knew just how to use it. He gently scraped the sensitive peak with his teeth, causing me to moan. “So responsive,” he purred. I reached up to draw the mask from his face when he stilled my hands. “No,” he commanded. “Let’s leave them on.”

I growled out of frustration. In response, he decided to lavish attention on my other nipple. I was beyond hot and bothered. I wanted this man deep inside me. “More,” I demanded.

With that, he eased me onto the sofa. He reached under my dress and traced his fingers under my panties. “You’re ready for me.” His finger dipped inside my core.

“Yes.” Was the only coherent thing I managed to say.

Another finger joined the party while his thumb began to draw slow, exquisite circles around my tight nub. I was going to come if he kept that up for much longer. All of a sudden he stopped, and I actually whined. “Patience, little one,” he instructed. I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back my protest. As his fingers continued to explore my body, he leaned back on his heels. “I can’t decide where to taste you first. Should it be here?” He ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, and I could taste my essence. “Or should I kiss these lips?” His finger teased my cleft before he traced up to circle the bundle of nerves at the top. Oh, fucking, my! I arched my hips. “I agree,” he confirmed, and then his mouth was there at my center—licking, sucking, and nipping. While I rode his face, I tugged his head tighter into me. The man knew his way around a woman’s body. And, let’s be honest here, there was nothing hotter than a man who enjoyed going down on a woman. My orgasm hit ferociously. Before I could come down off the first one, his fingers were inside me coaxing the second.