Read Online He's the One by Linda Lael Miller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linda Lael Miller
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nipples are hard.” He glided his thumb along her highest
rib, just barely brushing the curve of her breast.
“Maybe I’m cold,” she said in that same shuddery voice that told him she was having
as much trouble controlling herself as he was.
“It’s ninety degrees in here.” He was sweating. She had a fine sheen to her skin,
as well. He wanted to lap it up. Wanted to lap her up. His thumb slid over her nipple, catching on the very tip.
Both of them caught their breath.
Her head fell back and thunked against the wall. He leaned in, mouth open, to nibble
at her throat, but that was instinctive, that was affection and heat, and he stopped
a breath away because this wasn’t supposed to be about any of that. Damn, he’d nearly
forgotten. He was trying to prove a point here. “Maybe you are cold,” he allowed with
some disbelief. “But there’s one reaction you always give me that has nothing to do
with being chilled.” With that, he glided his fingers down her belly, her muscles
quivering at his touch.
“Don’t even think about it,” she whispered.
“Oh, I’m thinking about it, Super Girl.”
“James,” she choked out as he stroked a finger over her mound, then into her petal-soft
folds.
“You’re wet.” His legs nearly buckled at the feel of her. “Is this for me, Ella?”
Letting out a half whimper, half sob, her free hand fisted in his shirt. Definitely
not a sound of distress, he noted, but of arousal, and he groaned as he sank into
that creamy heat.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “So I lied. So I want you. It’s only because I haven’t
had sex in too long and I ran out of batteries, so don’t flatter yourself.”
His gaze met hers as his thumb found her clit and lightly stroked.
Her eyes went opaque. Her fingers dug further into his chest, pulling out more than
a few hairs, which made him wince, but he kept up the torment. It was the least of
what she deserved.
“I’m going to go off like a rocket,” she gasped.
Yeah. And he wanted to see it, feel it. Cause it. Wanted to remind her exactly what
she was missing out on. Pride and brainless ego on his part? Maybe. He didn’t care.
He kept stroking her.
“James.” A few more chest hairs were lost. “ Stop .”
Damn, the magic word. He stopped but left his hands on her.
She dropped her head to his chest and gulped for air. “I told you,” she said tightly,
head still down on his chest. “I told you what you wanted to hear. Now please, James,
get me free.”
He didn’t want to, but there was something in her voice that stopped him cold, and
he was deathly afraid it was tears. “Okay,” he said quietly, and stroked a hand over
her long, wild hair. She was trembling, and his heart wrenched. Christ, he was an
ass. “Okay,” he murmured again softly. “I’ll free you.” He just wished she meant only
the handcuffs, and not their marriage.
Or that he’d been the one bound, because one thing was damn sure, he didn’t want to
be free.
Chapter Four
E lla turned from James and set her hot face to the wall. She felt him move away, even
out of the room, and she told herself she didn’t care.
Then, though he didn’t make a sound, she knew he was back. She didn’t look at him.
Couldn’t.
She still wanted him. She’d never stopped wanting him.
Neither was a crime, but thanks to his torturing of her for his own amusement, she
had so many emotions battering her, she didn’t know which one to start with. Furious,
aroused, and embarrassingly close to tears for reasons she didn’t understand, she
shifted to hug herself.
Only to discover she could use both arms.
James had released her.
Still facing the wall, she rubbed her wrist, gave herself a bolstering pep talk along
the lines of, You can do this, you can face him and not let him see how much he’s destroyed you , and slowly turned back.
She was alone.
Bending, she grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her
rib, just barely brushing the curve of her breast.
“Maybe I’m cold,” she said in that same shuddery voice that told him she was having
as much trouble controlling herself as he was.
“It’s ninety degrees in here.” He was sweating. She had a fine sheen to her skin,
as well. He wanted to lap it up. Wanted to lap her up. His thumb slid over her nipple, catching on the very tip.
Both of them caught their breath.
Her head fell back and thunked against the wall. He leaned in, mouth open, to nibble
at her throat, but that was instinctive, that was affection and heat, and he stopped
a breath away because this wasn’t supposed to be about any of that. Damn, he’d nearly
forgotten. He was trying to prove a point here. “Maybe you are cold,” he allowed with
some disbelief. “But there’s one reaction you always give me that has nothing to do
with being chilled.” With that, he glided his fingers down her belly, her muscles
quivering at his touch.
“Don’t even think about it,” she whispered.
“Oh, I’m thinking about it, Super Girl.”
“James,” she choked out as he stroked a finger over her mound, then into her petal-soft
folds.
“You’re wet.” His legs nearly buckled at the feel of her. “Is this for me, Ella?”
Letting out a half whimper, half sob, her free hand fisted in his shirt. Definitely
not a sound of distress, he noted, but of arousal, and he groaned as he sank into
that creamy heat.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “So I lied. So I want you. It’s only because I haven’t
had sex in too long and I ran out of batteries, so don’t flatter yourself.”
His gaze met hers as his thumb found her clit and lightly stroked.
Her eyes went opaque. Her fingers dug further into his chest, pulling out more than
a few hairs, which made him wince, but he kept up the torment. It was the least of
what she deserved.
“I’m going to go off like a rocket,” she gasped.
Yeah. And he wanted to see it, feel it. Cause it. Wanted to remind her exactly what
she was missing out on. Pride and brainless ego on his part? Maybe. He didn’t care.
He kept stroking her.
“James.” A few more chest hairs were lost. “ Stop .”
Damn, the magic word. He stopped but left his hands on her.
She dropped her head to his chest and gulped for air. “I told you,” she said tightly,
head still down on his chest. “I told you what you wanted to hear. Now please, James,
get me free.”
He didn’t want to, but there was something in her voice that stopped him cold, and
he was deathly afraid it was tears. “Okay,” he said quietly, and stroked a hand over
her long, wild hair. She was trembling, and his heart wrenched. Christ, he was an
ass. “Okay,” he murmured again softly. “I’ll free you.” He just wished she meant only
the handcuffs, and not their marriage.
Or that he’d been the one bound, because one thing was damn sure, he didn’t want to
be free.
Chapter Four
E lla turned from James and set her hot face to the wall. She felt him move away, even
out of the room, and she told herself she didn’t care.
Then, though he didn’t make a sound, she knew he was back. She didn’t look at him.
Couldn’t.
She still wanted him. She’d never stopped wanting him.
Neither was a crime, but thanks to his torturing of her for his own amusement, she
had so many emotions battering her, she didn’t know which one to start with. Furious,
aroused, and embarrassingly close to tears for reasons she didn’t understand, she
shifted to hug herself.
Only to discover she could use both arms.
James had released her.
Still facing the wall, she rubbed her wrist, gave herself a bolstering pep talk along
the lines of, You can do this, you can face him and not let him see how much he’s destroyed you , and slowly turned back.
She was alone.
Bending, she grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her
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