Kept by Him(29)

* * *

As the seconds ticked by, Monica’s incredulity over Daniel’s ultimatum morphed into anger, until

suddenly, she couldn’t contain her rage. She charged across the office hall, then out of the department

store, then outside, overcome with a thousand different emotions. Her body ached, ached in a way that

disquieted her so much, her spirit was raging to lash at him.

He was outside, standing in the rain while his chauffer pulled the Rolls-Royce up in front of the

building.

“You!” she cried, and he turned with a scowl as she stepped into the rain with him, immediately

getting drenched. “How dare you talk to me like I’m one of your strumpets!”

He stepped in closer to her, his expression thunderous. “How dare you treat me like I’m one of your

senile lapdogs? Play your role with whoever you want, but I’ll be damned if I let you play the Ice

Maiden with me!”

“I’m not some bimbo who will wait around to pleasure you all day and succumb to your tiniest

wishes, and to whom you can issue asinine ultimatums!”

He grabbed her arm as he jerked the car door open with his other hand and then shoved her into the

back, slid in behind her, and closed the door behind him. Monica ended up sprawled across the whole

seat, with him above her.

“To my place,” he snapped as the driver boarded, then he slid the partition window closed so the

driver wouldn’t hear or see them.

“No! What are you doing? I need to go back!”

Fuming, Monica struggled to sit up, the effort futile against his strength. “Get off of me, Daniel!

Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. You said so yourself, it’s over. I’m not going to be ordered around

by you!”

He pinned her down the length of the seat, his eyes dark and tumultuous, his unmistakable erection

rock-hard solid against her hipbone. “So you want Roland,” he said through gritted teeth, his hands

clenching her wrists, “who’ll stand by your side and hold your hand and fetch your drink.”

“Let go of me!”

She struggled against his grip, but suddenly he looked terribly big, and terribly jealous, his eyes

flashing bright green. Unexpectedly, her struggles melted into a shudder of need. He dropped his voice

then, and he spoke to her in a seductive murmur. “If I let you go, then who’s going to do this?”

Her clothes were plastered to her, and his hands released her to reach for the opening of her shirt,

slowly flicking the buttons open. The feel of his fingertips as they unbuttoned her shirt electrified her.

He’d removed his jacket she didn’t know when, but she could see the outline of his nipples through his

soaked black button-down shirt. They poked, two hard points, into the material.

Heat filled her core, making the cold almost vaporize around her as a rush of cream gathered

between her thighs. Her own nipples responded and, although already erect from the cold, they pressed

harder into her bra and blouse.

He raked his gaze across her curves, perfectly delineated by the flimsy silk blouse she’d worn, and

his nostrils expanded. “You crave my touch, Monica,” he said, suddenly foregoing the unbuttoning of

her shirt and sliding his hands under the fabric to pull down the lace of her bra and engulf both

mounds in his big hands.

He squeezed and caressed, massaged until the pleasure made her every fingertip tingle in pleasure.

“You ache for this. You beg for it. Your pulse goes crazy. You tremble. You arch and push up for

more. You go wet and hot and desperate. It’s why you keep coming for it … it’s why you can’t think

straight anymore … you want this. You need this more than you will ever know or even understand.”

She wanted him so much, a fire burst open in her belly, incredibly hot. His thumbs passed and

tweaked the throbbing nipple tips, and her body arched to the almost painful touch, her hips circling

eagerly in search of his erection.

“What do you think would go on with me, Monica?” He gentled his voice, his eyes liquid green as

he pushed the halfway undone shirt aside to reveal one puckered wet breast, and he proved to her how

in control he was of her own body, making her moan deep in her throat as he bent to devour her nipple

until it throbbed.

“I’ve had it bad for you my entire life,” he said, blowing air into the thrumming crest. “Holding you

while you cried in my arms without making you mine was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. You

arouse me like crazy. I lust for you, respect you, admire you.… Why do you think we look for what we

look for in others? What is it you think we really feel for each other?”