Proof of Their Sin(34)

Lauren’s heart stopped. All her blood drained into her toes and a cold sweat chased it. She was as flabbergasted as he was and the way he seemed to gather and glow with challenge melted her into a puddle of apprehension.

“I—I—” she stammered.

He began walking toward her and she tried to retreat, backing into the fridge door and knocking condiments over in their trays while her nerveless fingers lost their grip on the cloth bag. It fell to the floor. More tomatoes rolled out toward his menacing steps while she managed to shuffle around the door and clatter it closed, taking refuge at one end of the island, putting it between them as he came up to the other end, threat in every line of his aggressive stance.

Part of her knew this standoff was insanely childish, but he looked not just furious, but intent. She was trapped and a frisson of something unidentifiable went through her. Not real fear, but the kind that chased you through a haunted house, making you want to laugh while you were screaming your head off.

“What are you doing hiding behind furniture? You wanted a fight, didn’t you?” he taunted in a voice that sent a sensual slither down her spine. “Or were you inviting something else?”

“I was inviting you to get lost, but you can’t stand for a woman to resist you, can you?” She practically threw the words out.

“If you at least tried to resist, cara, we might not be in this situation.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Who is chasing who right now? I don’t want anything to do with you. You’re behaving like an idiot.”

His head went back in insult while a hint of desperation shadowed the eyes that stayed fixed on her. “Do I really have to chase a woman who wants to be caught?”

Her heart did a backflip while she protested, “Get over yourself!”

At the same time her heart raced with something more like anticipation than fear, even though she was very scared how she’d react if he touched her.

He made a sudden fake to her left. She feinted in a mirror dodge that started him down one side of the island. She took her chances running down the opposite side.

Paolo was not only competitive, but strong, athletic, and ruthless. Before she’d taken four steps, he had vaulted onto and slid over the island, landing before her so she would have crashed into him if he hadn’t caught her by the arms to cushion the impact.

“You—”

He smothered her cry of anger with his mouth.

She shouldn’t have been shocked. He was cutthroat enough to prove a point in this ruthless way, even if he did hate her. He didn’t have to resort to violence when he could demean her with her own uncontrollable response to him.

The devastating crush of his mouth on hers was a stamp of ownership, one full of all-knowing familiarity. He took for granted he’d elicit a response, and he did. Despite her admonishments to herself that she ought to fight him, should bite his bottom lip and beat her fists on his chest, something deeply vulnerable gave way inside her.

Weak tears smarted at the backs of her eyes, but they came from wanting this so badly and knowing it was nothing but a point to be proven for him while she was flowering like a desert plant tasting water after a drought. With an internal shudder, she gave in to him.

He groaned in victory and maneuvered her into a closer alignment with his hard angles, backing her into the fridge so he could press his weight into her.

She released a sigh of deep relief and she climbed her hands up to his neck, weaving her fingers into his short, silky hair, encouraging him with the pressure of her touch against his warm scalp to kiss her harder. Deeper. She opened her mouth unreservedly to his and their tongues tangled in delicious reunion  .

It wasn’t enough. When he nudged his knee between her thighs, she let him in, giving over to his natural need to dominate without a second thought. She ached to feel him take over her body.

He ceased massaging her hip to slither his touch restlessly into her clothing. His expertise made her heart contract with both delight and a poignant awareness of how practiced he was. She broke out in shivery bumps from the sweet caress of his palm over her navel, measuring the expansion of her waistline before he stroked up her rib cage.

He was only going through the motions to taunt her, she reminded herself. It was galling to be so incapable of resisting him, but she couldn’t escape the grip of desire for his touch. She wanted to weep, she felt so defenseless.

He growled something approving as his hand splayed over the growing abundance of her breast. Unerringly, he found her nipple with his thumb, circling and inciting sensations through the cup of her bra that were so intense they were almost painful. Lauren groaned in protest and wriggled against him. Paolo firmed his hold on her and intensified their kiss while he slid his touch inside her bra, his caress the work of a connoisseur that brought the tip to a screaming pitch of sensitivity.