Rule Breaker(80)

            “And I hate aching, hungering for a woman who wants me just as desperately yet finds herself too terrified of the past to take what she wants.”

            The accusation struck far too close to the truth.

            “So, should I just sleep with you and thank you very nicely for fucking me once you’re finished?” she demanded with mocking sweetness. “Did you think that damned contract would get you into my bed, Rule?”

            His lips curled with just a hint of amusement. “A man can hope, but I have to admit, I wasn’t betting on it.”

            “You’re an arrogant ass,” she accused him roughly.

            And she was insane. Somewhere she had managed to lose what common sense she possessed.

            “It’s time you le—” She didn’t have a chance to finish the rest of the demand. His lips came over hers with a powerful, dominant force that had a surprised moan slipping from between them. Her hands rose to his shoulders, nails digging into the material of his shirt as she was drawn to her tiptoes, suddenly so desperate to get closer that the need was exploding through her senses.

            She could taste the chocolate and peppermint candies he was known to enjoy. The taste of the sweet was licked onto her tongue as he pressed past her lips and stroked over it. It filled her senses and gave her a whole new appreciation of the candy.

            The stroke of his hands down her back caused her to arch closer, pleasure rasping over the sensitive flesh, then exploding across her lower back as they slipped beneath her blouse.

            Had she ever wanted to be touched in this way? Had she ever wanted a man to stroke her flesh, to tear her from the safe confines of her world and into a heady, chaotic storm of pleasure? Had she ever craved having all her plans for vengeance destroyed for a single man’s touch?

            She hadn’t, she knew. Heat rushed through her as his nails scraped down her back lightly, rasping over her flesh and causing her to press closer to him. To rub herself against him as she felt the iron-hard, thick wedge of his erection beneath his jeans.

            The impression of that erect flesh was large, too large, perhaps.

            And she swore she could feel the heat of the engorged flesh through his jeans and hers as he pressed closer to her.

            A tugging heat at her scalp had her head tilting back for him, her lips parting further as he began taking long, deep kisses from her. Sipping at her lips, nipping at them, only to rub the ache away with his far too experienced tongue.

            “I want to taste you just like that.” His head lifted, his lips only brushing against hers as she forced her eyes to open, to stare up at him.

            “What?” She couldn’t believe he meant—

            “I want my tongue between your thighs, lapping at the sweet, hot cream I can smell dripping from you. I want to catch it on my lips, taste you on my tongue, then lick between your inner lips until it’s buried in the sweet heat hidden there.”

            She gasped; her vagina clenched with such hard, involuntary spasms that the juices gathering there were suddenly forced to flow from her and further dampen her panties.

            “You like that,” he growled. “Admit it, Gypsy. You want my lips there.”

            His hand was suddenly between her thighs, cupping her mound, his fingers pressing firmly into the material where the moisture fell from her. The pad of his hand ground against her clit, rubbing it in short, erotic strokes that had her breath catching.

            It was so good. So hot. She’d never even fantasized about a man touching her like this, of drawing such pleasure from her body that she suddenly wondered at the small amount of control she had over it.

            “Your body knows me, Gypsy,” he warned her, his teeth nipping at her lips as he urged her to part them for him again. “It knows the pleasure I can give it, the heated caresses and the sweet release.”