Rule's Obsession(20)

Angie felt her stomach plummet and let her hands go limp. The only thing holding them up were his fingers, entwined with hers. "But that's my only out."

He nodded his head. "And you'll still have it. But I want you to use it sparingly, baby, understand?" A raw sizzle filled the air between them, a pagan, primal life force that felt tangible. "I've struggled with this, Angie, since the first time I saw you."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember what I said to you, what I warned you about?"

Her brain was more than muddled, but she thought back to that day and tried to remember his exact warning but the agitation she was feeling was too strong. "I remember you warned me about sleeping with you."

"What I said to you that day was the truth. But then I lied and coerced you into bed with me anyway." His fingers tightened on hers. "I want to own you, Angie. I want to own each and every one of your orgasms. I want you to be mine, to do with what I will. I don't want to ask for permission, I don't want to worry about refusal. From the first moment I saw you, I've felt an urge I can barely control to sink my hands around you and know that I can do anything I want to you, and nothing and nobody can stop me. Maybe that's wrong, I don't fucking know. I've never experienced the feeling before in my life."

"I don't . . . know what to say."

He continued as if she hadn't spoken, "I'd never physically hurt you, at least, not that I could help. That's not what this is about," he reiterated. He dropped one of her hands and seized her wrist in a grip she knew she couldn't break unless he allowed it. "You intoxicate me. Your scent drives me crazy. I feel a driving need to take everything good and precious about you and lock you in my bedroom and fuck you blind. I want to take everything that's pure and wholesome that you hide behind your gothic mask and force it out so I can touch it. Control it. I want to control you."

"You're scaring me."

He reared back from the table, a look of unease crossing his features but he didn't release her. "Maybe I need to shut up."

"Maybe you should," she said in total seriousness.

Silence pulsed between them, the soft hum of restaurant noise in the background. They sat like that for a few moments, his thumb on her wrist pressing against a pulse point she knew was racing uncontrollably. Finally, he spoke. "Say it again."

Her tongue raced across dry lips. "Say what?"

"Tell me you only sleep with me," he demanded.

"I only sleep with you," she repeated quietly.

He nodded as his features hardened. "And now say you're mine."

Angie knew what he was asking. He was asking her to agree with everything he'd just laid out about their ongoing relationship. How different could it be from what she already had with him? If he didn't want to hurt her, and she believed him on that, totally, then how different would going to bed with him be? She didn't think it would be any different, this was just some kind of mind game that was tripping him up. He was already supremely, completely dominant in bed and she allowed it, because she loved it. There wasn't a thing about going to bed with him that she didn't love already. So this just had to be some kind of a formality for him. At least she told herself as much. "I'm yours," she said in a rush before she could chicken out. Heat saturated her senses when she heard her own words.

A look of total satisfaction crossed his harsh features. "That's it then."

He paid the bill and walked her out to the car with a new sense of urgency, his hand at the small of her back.



Damian led Angie inside his house, the same fantasy that always fucked with his brain screaming at him now. It was a simple thing, really. They'd had sex more times than he could count, in more positions than he could remember, but he'd always held off on the one thing that made him salivate with lust.

He wanted to hold her prisoner underneath him and take her from behind. He wanted her on all fours.

He'd always wanted her on all fours, and the only reason he'd held off was because of their disparate sizes and her seeming innocence where sex was concerned.

It was obvious she hadn't been a virgin. That wasn't it. But she sometimes wore an expression of disconcertedness. Some of the things he did to her seemed to catch her off guard. Her eyes would widen, she'd wear a shaken-look, and he couldn't fail to see her body tremble.

He'd gone easy on her, at least in his own mind.

But now they'd gotten some things ironed out between them, and the new knowledge that she was exclusively his, had in fact readily agreed to that, was now sending a primal beat through his bloodstream that he couldn't ignore.

He needed to nail her to the bed, flip her over, pull her to her knees, and plunge inside.

He needed that like he needed air to breathe.

As he clamped his fingers around her wrist, her demeanor was a bit more submissive and silent than usual as he led her to his bedroom. It should have calmed him down, but it didn't. It had just the opposite effect. He felt his abdominal muscles lace with tension, the skin on his face stretched tautly across his cheekbones, and his erection was engorged to such a degree that he felt as if he might erupt from the first stroke of his fingers across her clit.

The thought sent another rush of blood to his cock. Yeah, fuck yeah, he needed her clit. His nostrils flared as he pushed the door to the bedroom shut and maneuvered her against it. His brain was about to explode with anticipated pleasure. He had one thought banging around in his head. He didn't have to be so fucking careful anymore. It would be okay if she knew how insane he was about her. She wasn't going to run.

His hands slid to her t-shirt and he pulled it over her head in a rapid movement and tossed it aside. He latched onto the pale contours of her breasts with hot eyes and watched the rapid inhalations of the breath coming in and out of her lungs as she pressed back against the door. At the sight of the pale white skin above her bra, his lust inched up a notch. "Mine," he hissed out uncontrollably, his finger running over the pale swells. "New rules. Let's give them a try," he didn't wait for an answer. He sank his fist into the center of her bra and pulled it down until her nipples popped up over the material.





Chapter Eight




Damian let out a groan that he didn't try to control and pulled down harder until Angie's small white breasts were pushed up over the material and her bra held tight below them, binding her within the twisted fabric. A raw arrow of lust shot through his veins at the sight. He pressed his thumbs over her nipples, pressing them into her body until she let out a gasp, and then he eased up and began swiping them repeatedly. Back and forth, over and over until he and Angie were panting together and he began to feel like he was foaming at the mouth.

Fire smoldered down his spine and he felt an immediate urge to take her clit between his teeth. But he refused to let go of her nipples. Her eyes were closed, her head against the door as she stood still in his embrace, breathing so hard he didn't know how she couldn't be hyperventilating. "Open your eyes."

She let out a soft moan but her eyes remained closed, though her forehead furrowed with concentration. "Angie," he growled, "Open your eyes. Now."

She stiffened just a little, but her eyes flew open immediately and clashed with his. She looked completely shell-shocked, and he had a fleeting moment when he thought he wouldn't be able to wait to sink inside of her; Angie on her hands and knees might have to come later. He squeezed a nipple with one hand, while with the other, he threaded her hair through his fingers and lifted her face to his and stared down at her. "I want you to take your jeans off." Her eyes were glazed with passion as she blinked up at him. "Do it now. Right now."

She hesitated, her eyes wide.

"Angie," he rasped in warning.

Clumsily, but immediately, her hands fell between them and she began fumbling with the button on her jeans.

A heady sense of territorial possession filled him. If he'd been a lion, he wouldn't have been able to contain his roar of triumph.



Angie let out a shallow pant, trying to get enough oxygen into her veins to keep her brain working. It was damn near impossible. She'd never been so turned on in her life. The tight leash of control Damian always kept on his emotions was gone, blown away like dust in the wind.

In its place was an uncompromising force that held her captivated.

Her shaking, useless fingers struggled with the button on her jeans until with a low sound of impatience, he dropped to his knees and knocked her hands out of the way. The button gave and the zipper was released and his hands landed on her hips and pushed the jeans and underwear down her legs. He lifted each leg in turn, forced the material down and off until she leaned against the door in nothing but her tangled bra.

His lifted one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder and Angie's thoughts scattered as she felt herself exposed to him. A wave of fire spread over her and a wet heat pulsed between her thighs, softening her.

He spread the lips of her sex out and stroked her with his tongue, up and down, and again, up and down. Fire licked down her spine and a moan came from her lips. His thumb reached up and rubbed over her clit, exposing it to his hungry mouth, and his teeth bit into her, just short of pain. She caught her breath as incendiary heat flowed from her head to her toes and back again.

A rumble came from his chest as he held her open, as wide as she could possibly go, and he flattened his tongue against her, scraping it up and down, over and over until she thought she'd combust right then and there.