Read Online Diana's Hound: Bloodhounds, Book 4 by Moira Rogers - Free Book Online Page A

arms around his neck and wrapped one leg around his hip, grinding against him.
    He jerked her head back hard and stared, his heavy breaths falling on her lips. “If we give in to this, we’re doomed before we start. What fool would believe I want to rid myself of you?”
    Who would believe it anyway, when Diana couldn’t look at him without panting? “What do we do?”
    A groan. “Fuck if I know,” he muttered, the words vibrating against her mouth as he seized it again.
    Oh yes.
    Diana shivered as her tongue dueled with his, and the shiver set off another when her lower body rocked closer to his hardness. She dragged her mouth to his jaw. “Inside. Now.”
    “No.” His grip turned steely. “Here, or nothing.”
    He was setting a boundary, she realized. It was a mostly logical conclusion—if they stayed in the hall, they couldn’t go too far. Behavior restricted by locale.
    If only he knew the things she could do, even in a hallway.
    Diana licked her way along his jaw to the spot beneath his ear. “Here?” she asked softly before dropping her mouth to the base of his neck. “Or here?”
    A rumble of warning rolled up through his chest but seemed to stick in his throat, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to protest.
    As if he was afraid she might stop.
    Too much or too fast and he’d push her away. So she rubbed her thumb over his collarbone, following the caress with her tongue and then her teeth, careful not to stray too far down, lest he think she meant to drop to her knees right there.
    Not yet, no matter how much she wanted it.
    The instinct proved wise. His grip in her hair loosened until his fingers slipped away. He touched her slowly, grazing her chin and her throat before swooping lower.
    She barely held pleading words in check, but she couldn’t stop her head from falling back on a moan. His thumb pressed to her throat, where her pulse beat strong and fast. “I’m little better than an animal now.”
    Diana tensed as the words penetrated the fog of pleasure in her brain. An animal. Lord, if he thought such things about himself, what must he think of her?
    She feared the answer, enough to step away until her back hit the opposite wall in the narrow corridor. “Good night, N—”
    He surged across the space between them, his movements a blur that ended when his forearms crashed to the wall on either side of her head. She ended up caged by skin and muscle, surrounded by him . “Don’t run.”
    “I’m not.” She swallowed hard. “I’m going to bed. It’s a better idea than tormenting myself with things I can’t have.”
    He fixed a stare on her mouth. “Not having isn’t the torment. Having and then losing is.”
    She itched to trace his frown, to ease the stern set of his lips. “You think too much. Don’t you ever just close your eyes and feel ?”
    “Never in all my life. And not once since I came back from the dead.”
    It must have been madness that led her to frame his face with her hands. “So do it now. Close your eyes.”
    A deep breath pushed his bare chest against her breasts. He studied her face, his gaze roving from her lips to her eyes, tracing her nose and her brow, drinking her in like he needed to glut himself on the sight of her before closing his eyes.
    When he finally did, he tensed. “It won’t stop me from thinking. Nothing does.”
    “Shh.” She allowed herself one moment to smooth his brow before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Slow, easy—chaste, by most people’s definitions. Harmless.
    Nowhere near harmless. Diana gripped his upper arms and forced herself to keep the kiss light, no mean feat when it kindled fire in her belly, made her long to tilt her head and urge his lips apart with her tongue.
    It took forever for the rigid lines of his body to ease. Not completely—he was still hard, especially when his hips brushed hers, revealing the steely length of his cock—but she could feel him melting into her.
    Diana trembled as another warmth