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Authors: Lauren Smith
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craved fire as he did in that moment. His little warrior liked the idea of a spanking. He’d certainly remember that.
Sophie opened her mouth beneath his finger and moved to bite him. He moved faster, catching her chin and pulling her head up, forcing her up on tiptoe to steal a kiss. He gave it to her hard, focusing every bit of himself on her mouth, the way she tasted like strawberries, her retreating, hesitant tongue when he took control. He opened her mouth further, distracting her while he captured her wrists behind her back. He loved restraints, and couldn’t wait to get her beneath him, tied to his bed. Someday he’d allow her to touch him, to stroke those lovely hands all over his body. But the need to have her powerless and trusting in his bed, awaiting the fulfillment of her every desire, was a potent need that made him nearly blind with hunger.
She melted in his arms, a little purr escaping her mouth between kisses. There was nothing better than getting a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman to surrender. It wasn’t about force, wasn’t about breaking someone down. It was about gaining trust, and getting a woman like Sophie to submit fully would be like nothing else he’d ever done. A true achievement. Never in his life had he wanted to accept a challenge like dominating her.
When he drew back to look at her, her silver gray eyes were soft, warm, like polished moonstones.
“Your mouth is dangerous.” He feathered another kiss across her lips. Was it insane to feel he couldn’t get enough of her mouth? He almost dreaded the thought of how desperate he’d been to bury himself inside her and never leave.
“Dangerous?” she murmured against his lips.
“Hmmm, yes…” He licked at her lips, savoring the taste. “I can’t stop thinking about what you could do to me with it, what I want to do to it.”
“Really?” Her surprise shocked him. Did she have no idea what effect she was having on him? His cock was so hard he’d be lucky to get upstairs without any serious pain.
Emery’s hand tightened on her trapped wrists. “How many men have you been with?”
“Hmm?”
Sophie was smiling dazedly, as though his last kiss had addled her mind and left her happily drunk on passion.
“How. Many. Men? How many times? And don’t lie. The truth, Sophie.”
Finally his words seemed to sink in. “Two men. Two times each.”
So few? How had men not been beating down her doors to share her bed? Emery decided the men, wherever she was from, were idiots.
“While you’re with me, no one else, understand? I’m the possessive type.”
She scowled, her eyes narrowed to slits.
“The same goes for you. I don’t share and I don’t want you eyeing any other women. I hate that. Every man I’ve dated has never been able to keep his eyes off other women. Can you promise to be better?”
Emery swept his gaze over her tantalizing body, trying not to indulge in fantasies of all the things he would soon to do her. “You’re all mine, and I haven’t been able to look away since Royce brought you to me.”
Truth. Scary, confusing, truth. Sure, she wasn’t gorgeous, wasn’t slender. Sophie was the opposite of most women he met on a daily basis. And that made her fascinating, an odd mixture of warrior tigress and kittenish innocence. He knew with the right man, a good dom, she’d explode and burn like a wildfire in bed. Damn if he didn’t want the blaze to consume him.
* * *
Sophie let him lead her through a maze of corridors lined with paintings hung on the richly painted walls. This had to be a dream: to be escorted through a mansion lit by dim golden lamps and pools of moonlight spilling through windows, leaving pearly puddles of light across the floors. Her hand was tucked securely in Emery’s, the contact comforting. She’d never been one for touching, hugging, any of that. But Emery’s large elegant hand curled around hers was soothing and yet completely mystifying.
Emery was like a
Sophie opened her mouth beneath his finger and moved to bite him. He moved faster, catching her chin and pulling her head up, forcing her up on tiptoe to steal a kiss. He gave it to her hard, focusing every bit of himself on her mouth, the way she tasted like strawberries, her retreating, hesitant tongue when he took control. He opened her mouth further, distracting her while he captured her wrists behind her back. He loved restraints, and couldn’t wait to get her beneath him, tied to his bed. Someday he’d allow her to touch him, to stroke those lovely hands all over his body. But the need to have her powerless and trusting in his bed, awaiting the fulfillment of her every desire, was a potent need that made him nearly blind with hunger.
She melted in his arms, a little purr escaping her mouth between kisses. There was nothing better than getting a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman to surrender. It wasn’t about force, wasn’t about breaking someone down. It was about gaining trust, and getting a woman like Sophie to submit fully would be like nothing else he’d ever done. A true achievement. Never in his life had he wanted to accept a challenge like dominating her.
When he drew back to look at her, her silver gray eyes were soft, warm, like polished moonstones.
“Your mouth is dangerous.” He feathered another kiss across her lips. Was it insane to feel he couldn’t get enough of her mouth? He almost dreaded the thought of how desperate he’d been to bury himself inside her and never leave.
“Dangerous?” she murmured against his lips.
“Hmmm, yes…” He licked at her lips, savoring the taste. “I can’t stop thinking about what you could do to me with it, what I want to do to it.”
“Really?” Her surprise shocked him. Did she have no idea what effect she was having on him? His cock was so hard he’d be lucky to get upstairs without any serious pain.
Emery’s hand tightened on her trapped wrists. “How many men have you been with?”
“Hmm?”
Sophie was smiling dazedly, as though his last kiss had addled her mind and left her happily drunk on passion.
“How. Many. Men? How many times? And don’t lie. The truth, Sophie.”
Finally his words seemed to sink in. “Two men. Two times each.”
So few? How had men not been beating down her doors to share her bed? Emery decided the men, wherever she was from, were idiots.
“While you’re with me, no one else, understand? I’m the possessive type.”
She scowled, her eyes narrowed to slits.
“The same goes for you. I don’t share and I don’t want you eyeing any other women. I hate that. Every man I’ve dated has never been able to keep his eyes off other women. Can you promise to be better?”
Emery swept his gaze over her tantalizing body, trying not to indulge in fantasies of all the things he would soon to do her. “You’re all mine, and I haven’t been able to look away since Royce brought you to me.”
Truth. Scary, confusing, truth. Sure, she wasn’t gorgeous, wasn’t slender. Sophie was the opposite of most women he met on a daily basis. And that made her fascinating, an odd mixture of warrior tigress and kittenish innocence. He knew with the right man, a good dom, she’d explode and burn like a wildfire in bed. Damn if he didn’t want the blaze to consume him.
* * *
Sophie let him lead her through a maze of corridors lined with paintings hung on the richly painted walls. This had to be a dream: to be escorted through a mansion lit by dim golden lamps and pools of moonlight spilling through windows, leaving pearly puddles of light across the floors. Her hand was tucked securely in Emery’s, the contact comforting. She’d never been one for touching, hugging, any of that. But Emery’s large elegant hand curled around hers was soothing and yet completely mystifying.
Emery was like a
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