The Russian's Acquistion(24)

                                      CHAPTER FIVE

                HER WORDS RESULTED in a loaded silence.

                She used it to gather her composure, shocked by how easily he’d stripped her of it with one soul-stealing kiss. Compartmentalize, she urged herself, but it was impossible when the heat of his body melted her bones and his hands flexed restlessly against her back. She had to slow him down or he’d own her completely.

                Trying to hide how unnerved she was by her response, she forced herself to meet his gaze. His expression was flushed, his eyes glittering with suspicion.

                “A minute ago, I wasn’t moving fast enough,” he growled.

                Her chin automatically came forward, even though challenging him was probably the stupidest thing she could do. “A girl still wants to be seduced.” It was the only thing she could think to say.

                “Does she?” he asked in a tone that made her belly tremor. He held her chin and stared at her. “Or does she want to see how far she can push a man?”

                “I’m not—” She tried to swallow through a dry throat. “I’m not going to back out,” she whispered. “I just want a slower pace. Is that so unreasonable?” She wished she had enough experience to know exactly what kind of mistake she was making.

                “Are you attempting to keep it interesting or afraid of losing control?”

                His guess, so accurate, sent a startled pulse through her. Unable to control how the world treated her, she instead controlled how deeply she felt the ebbs and flows of life—but she definitely couldn’t control the way she reacted to him. That terrified her.

                He touched her lips. The tickling graze of his fingertip made her mouth quiver. “Tell me when you want me to kiss you, then,” he taunted gruffly.

                Now. She couldn’t deny that she wanted his mouth. And she wanted to make a go of the foundation. If she kept that in mind, maybe she could get through this without giving up too much of herself.

                “N-now.” The quaver in her voice reflected her inner turmoil.

                “Now?” He plucked at her bottom lip.

                “Yes. But just a kiss,” she cautioned, then added, “Please.”

                He chuckled in a way that sounded bitter and trailed his calloused fingers along her jaw, into her hair, gently threading his hand into her loose tresses as he tilted her head back.

                “Since you said please…” He stepped closer and brushed a light kiss onto her neck.

                She shivered as his lips moved under her jaw and up her cheek to her temple.

                It was lovely, but she felt unsteady. She set her hands on his hard chest to ground herself, eyes involuntarily closing as she appreciated the patience he was showing, touching butterfly kisses all over her face, pressing the corner of her mouth and drifting away. Giving her the time to absorb each caress, the flutter of reaction it raised, and even anticipate the next.

                Before she realized what she was doing, she unconsciously tried to follow him for a real kiss. His grip in her hair made turning her face impossible. The next time his heated breath flowed over her lips, she parted her own in invitation, but he left again. A whimper of dismay escaped her and she realized with a sting of uneasiness that she wasn’t setting the pace at all. He was in control.