Rule's Seduction Page 3

  Whoa. Erin’s knees began to shake more violently as her brain short-circuited so much that she could barely speak. “Okay,” she managed, belatedly becoming aware of the enhanced danger she was in since he’d secured the lock on the door.

  “If I get too rough—”

  The startled breath she took brought his words momentarily to a halt, even as his grasp tightened. His eyes sharpened menacingly and when he began speaking again, he did so with a slow, implacable cadence that demanded she understand. “If I get too rough, all you have to do is tell me to stop.”

  She felt her heart racing, a reaction to both his demeanor and the situation. “And you’ll stop?”

  One side of his mouth quirked, almost in humor, but not quite. “You’re not going to want me to stop—I’m only telling you this so you’ll be able to enjoy it. If you get scared, you might freak—might think you have no control—but I’m telling you that you’ll have all the control you’ll want or need. Got it?”

  At that, Erin found it impossible to speak so she only nodded her head. She swallowed hard, aware that her pulse had escalated to a new high as she braced herself for whatever was to come. She took another breath and waited—hopefully, for the best sexual experience of her life.

  A woman could always hope.

  ****

  When the woman plastered to his body nodded silently with a half-glazed look in her eyes, Max felt a surge of aggression rise up in his bloodstream that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He could definitely see that she was trying to play the part of a worldly, experienced woman, but he didn’t believe it. Her chin lifted a fraction, her eyes managed to stay on his, but he wasn’t falling for her feminine display of bravado.

  No, even though it wasn’t his intention to scare her, he was scaring her—and goddamn if her reaction wasn’t making him hard as a rock. Every sane thought he’d ever had seemed to vanish in a split second as he held her with a grip that he knew was too fucking strong. But screw it—he couldn’t help it. All he wanted was to sink inside of her. He wanted her. Erin Rule. Her femininity was unquestionable, the slight hesitation in her manner just enough to set off the hunter within him. It had all been a front—her confidence, her assurance. Once he’d slammed and locked the door, her brash poise had disappeared, replaced by a display of feminine vulnerability and need that was drawing him in like a siren’s call.

  She was pure femininity—pure perfection. And by God, he wanted that shit for himself.

  Revenge shouldn’t taste so damn sweet—shouldn’t look so sweet, staring back at him with wide eyes. If there had been any residual doubt—he immediately put it to rest. She was going to belong to him. He wasn’t going to argue with himself anymore. He’d been intrigued with her from the beginning—goddamn it—he deserved her. Erin Rule was his due. He’d take her, just as he’d planned. But now he knew the taking would be supremely sweet—something he would look forward to day in and day out, for a long, long time.

  For now, he couldn’t wait another second to push inside her. He needed to taste her, he needed to see her naked body, needed to put his brand all over her, needed to sink inside and lose himself within her graceful beauty.

  Feeling a need to control her that was completely foreign to him, he reached down and took her wrists in his hands and lifted them above her head. Pushing his leg between her thighs, he heard the slight catch of her breath. The small sound made him feel wild inside, untamed. When the fuck had he ever wanted a woman this fast, this hard, this intensely?

  Never that he could remember. There was no question—if he had ever felt this way about a woman, then she would still be in his possession.

  He pushed the disturbing thought aside and went for the silky, pink mouth below his.

  “Wait,” she panted as he lowered his head.

  The beginnings of a feral growl rose in his throat but he managed to halt the descent of his lips to stare into her wide, startled eyes. Holding her securely imprisoned in his grasp, he waited—almost daring her to try to get away as he fought the craving that inflamed him.

  “We have to use a condom and I don’t have one,” she breathed out in a single puff of air, her brown eyes troubled.

  Thanking fuck that she wasn’t trying to stop him, he muttered, “Yeah,” before his mouth fell to hers.

  Gratifyingly, her lips opened under his; she tasted like a fine wine he’d never had the pleasure of sampling but intuitively knew that he’d never be able to do without again. Another disturbing thought. He pushed it aside and concentrated on the slender wrists trapped within his fingers and the flat plane of her stomach cushioning his cock.

  Oh, she was fine. Unquestionably, fine. Unable to stop himself, he reached down and lifted the silk shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

  He took a moment to look down. Her bra was pale, skin-toned and was made of a fine, almost gossamer lace that hid none of her beauty, twisting his guts into a frenzy. She was sucking in oxygen as if she’d just run a seven-minute mile, and damn if he wasn’t doing the same.

  He transferred both wrists to one hand, sank his fingers into the center of her bra and pulled it down. He felt his pulse accelerate as perfect, round breasts spilled over the flimsy material. He had to get his shit together—he couldn’t unleash his true self until she had no way out or she’d run scared. He breathed in deeply as he watched her nipples tighten into small points of desire. As much as he tried, it wasn’t within him to soften his grasp—so he tried to tone down his personality with words that would soothe her. “So, yeah, I’m not going to be able to wait,” he forced out in half apology, half warning. “Want to be a gentleman, but it’s going to have to wait, okay?”

  Without waiting for an answer and not really expecting one, Max released her long enough to reach for the clasp of her slacks. Holding her pinned against the wall with his thighs, he quickly undid the fastening and pushed both slacks and panties down her legs, lifting each ankle to drop the clothes to the floor.

  Her eyes closed as her head turned away while she dragged in calming breaths, and he took the few seconds needed to dig a condom from his back pocket. Glancing around the suite he’d barely looked at since he’d checked in, he spied the chaise lounge that was the closest flat surface. Picking her up, he paced the few steps with her slight weight in his arms.

  Dropping her down, he wasted no time, stripping naked in a rush, and then, with precision and speed, rolled the condom on and came to his knees before her. More than ready now, and on a tight leash, he looked down, past her stomach, at her pale white skin decorated with only a small strip of manicured curls over her mound. Pressure rose in his brain and there was no possible way he could keep his hands to himself any longer. Pressing his finger against her clit, he felt the gratifying rush of wet heat just as she let out a high, tight moan.

  Anticipation and need hit him hard. Grasping her ankles, he pried her legs apart and came between them, readying himself to impale her. “Erin. Open your eyes.”

  She did as he said and her eyes flew open, her nostrils flaring.

  He put his fingers back to her clit and held her eyes. “This is just to take the edge off, understand? You’re going to come hard and fast and I’m going to follow and then we’re going to do this all fucking night, got it?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip, her eyes wild.

  The way she was deferring to him was about to make him blow his wad—he fucking liked it when she agreed with him so readily. “Now.”

  She sucked in a breath and held his eyes. “Yeah.”

  Needing inside but wanting her panting for it, he fingered her clit, the silky little bud tantalizing him to the point of no return. Unable to stop himself, he slipped a finger inside, and when she gasped, his abs tightened as he strove for control, adding a second finger to the first. Her eyes slipped closed as another wave of moisture told him what he needed to know. There was no denying that she was wet—she seemed completely ready, tiny little moans coming from the bac
k of her throat as if she couldn’t wait.

  Fuck—he couldn’t wait. Moving more fully between her legs, he put the head of his cock to her tight, slick opening. Jesus. He took a breath and then another before gaining enough control to question, “You feel that, sweetness?”

  Her head rolled from side to side. “God, yes.”

  Keep it light, Villarreal. You’ll have all the time in the world to fuck her the way you want once you have her in Argentina, securely yours by manipulation—and a wedding band. “Call me Max, love.” He pulled back and then slammed inside with a forceful thrust. As he bottomed out within her, she gasped, the sound making him groan. He took a deep breath, fire ricocheting in his guts as he soothed her once more, “Say my name and I promise, you’ll remember this night for as long as you live.”

  She breathed raggedly before whispering, “Max.”

  “Yeah.” He almost lost it—his name on her lips was that fucking sweet—but sheer grit and determination allowed him to go easy; he couldn’t take the chance of scaring her off by unleashing his true nature. Not yet. Give her an amazing orgasm, Villarreal. Take the same for yourself. Later, when he had her fully under his control, only then could he relax and be himself. But for now, tonight, he had to practice restraint. With those instructions clamoring in his brain, he began thrusting, taking smooth, deep strokes that blew his mind and almost made him lose control way too soon. She was so damn tight—Christ—he’d thought she would be—but this—this was so fucking perfect he was forced to bite his lip until he tasted blood—just to stay in control. He wanted her with him, to come with him or before him, so he bent down and kissed her long and hard before releasing her mouth and going for her nipple. “Lift it for me,” he ordered and she complied immediately, pressing her breast to his mouth and sending another wave of fervor through him.

  She tasted like pure, sweet heaven and within seconds of biting and stroking her with his tongue, he felt her muscles tighten as she began trembling uncontrollably, her powerful orgasm taking over her entire body.

  Satisfaction blazed through him, but the tight, sweet clasp of her body was his undoing and he followed her over into paradise, thrusting harder and deeper within her and when it was over, he gave them a few moments to recover before reluctantly slipping from her.

  As gently as he could manage, he carried her to the bed before he went into the bathroom.

  Closing the door, he snapped on the light. He leaned his hand against the counter and sucked in a few much needed breaths as his heart rate slowly stabilized. Son-of-a-bitch. That had been some intense shit. Already, mere moments later, he felt the slow, burning need to crawl on top of her again. He imagined holding her captive on the bed, spread-eagled as he sank inside her. Slowly this time, repeatedly—fucking her as much and however he wanted.

  With that idea uppermost in his thought process, he began to clean up so he could get back to her. He grasped his cock in his hand, preparing to remove the condom.

  What he saw should have cooled him off—frozen him even, but it didn’t.

  The condom was unequivocally, no question about it, broken. Split completely in two in the one place where it was most important to hold securely. Split. Broken. At the sight, a mass of shit knotted his gut—a fuck-up like this wasn’t in his experience and certainly hadn’t been part of his plan.

  Assessing the situation carefully, he peeled off what should have been his worst nightmare and discarded it, refusing to question exactly when and why his sanity had taken a walk. Surely to hell he should be breaking out in a cold sweat right about now? That would be the appropriate reaction to a broken condom, and he damn well knew it.

  So why was he only feeling a twisted sort of Machiavellian satisfaction?

  ****

  When Max closed the bathroom door, Erin scrambled under the covers. Her thighs were still trembling from the effects of the orgasm she’d just experienced and her mind wasn’t in working order. How the hell had that just happened? How had she managed to get off so fast? How had he made her come so quickly, so intensely, just as he’d told her she would?

  Part of her wanted to jump up and run screaming—part of her wanted to lie still and wait for more of the best sex she’d ever had.

  She closed her eyes and attempted to figure out what she should do. Conflicted much, Erin?

  When the bathroom door clicked open, she had no more time to decide which action to take, as Max strolled to the end of the bed and stood frowning down at her. He wore only a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, and all thoughts fled her mind as she focused on his straining erection pushing against the towel.

  He lifted a dark eyebrow and with a single, swift movement, pulled the covers away from her and tossed them to the side, leaving her almost nude body for him to see.

  Her breathing went haywire, and before she could even gain enough traction to begin scooting up the bed, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her ankle and began tugging. His fingers felt like a vise—an addictive, too-tempting vise. He pulled her to the end of the bed, pushed her trembling thighs apart and stared steadily between them. Holy Mary … sweet Jesus. Her lower body was nude, Erin hadn’t put her panties back on, and now, as he stared down between her legs, the intimacy of the moment was almost too much. His hands wrapped around both of her ankles, his fingers tightening to such a degree that she felt shattered. His expression was primal, atavistic, as he stared down at her as if he’d already marked her in some way—as if he was going to do it again.

  She tried to breathe evenly, she really did, but all the blood in her body seemed to be rushing to the juncture between her thighs as she felt herself flood with wet heat. He continued to pull on her ankles until her butt landed on the very edge of the bed and with rapid motions, he divested her of the remainder of her twisted clothing until she was completely naked.

  She felt her face flood with color, and when he stepped between her legs and dropped the towel from around his hips, she glanced down and almost passed out right then and there.

  He was already prepared, sheathed with a new condom.

  He hadn’t been kidding; by all evidence he meant to do this again. Right now. And to her eyes, this time wasn’t going to be much slower than the last. Deciding to take the bull by the horns, in an effort to slow him down and regain some control, she employed his name, still new to her lips, “Max.”

  He slid firm fingers from her ankle, over her knee, up her thigh, until his touch landed on her clit like a heat-seeking missile. “Yeah?”

  As sensation blazed across her nerve endings, any half-crazed thought of slowing him down blew right out of the window. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and the moment they did, his other hand came to her nipple, where he began tweaking her. Her hips lifted from the bed as she began to gyrate in response, the motion out of her control. A sweet, delicious ache formed in her lower stomach, and she immediately became drenched with liquid anticipation. Shit. She could so get used to this. The guy was perfect—at least, sexually perfect.

  With her eyes closed, she felt his fingers leave her center, only to find herself teased with something hard and forceful. Something hot. A single stroke later, she was impaled once again. She felt the reverberation roll through her body as she sucked in a breath, delight dancing down her spine as she felt once again, his width stretching her. His hand sank into her hair and he began to take slow, even strokes that continued to blow her mind. Why the hell did he have to smell so damn good? Even now, already, she was rapidly becoming addicted to his scent.

  His touch was sheer magic, a piece of heaven, and so she shut down everything in her brain that was telling her that she didn’t know him, that she shouldn’t be allowing this to happen and she just went with it. He was large, he was hitting all the right spots, and she struggled not to come too soon.

  It was useless; she was within touching distance of a place that was as close to ecstasy as one could possibly be. She rolled her hips under his as he continued to stroke in and out of
her. She heard a keening, distant wail and even as her body and senses shattered in satisfaction, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it was her own voice. At the sound, his hands left her hair to land under her butt as he lifted her even closer and began to stroke harder, faster … Endless moments later, her orgasm began to subside just as a groan ripped from his throat. Satisfaction tickled along her spine from knowing that she’d made him feel the same ecstasy she’d just experienced.

  Stilling, he took huge drags of oxygen as they slowly began to come down. His head landed beside hers on the pillow as his hips relaxed against hers. After a few moments, he lifted and she could feel him silently watching her.

  She slowly opened her eyes, studied the hard planes of his face and finally managed, “Hey.”

  He didn’t crack even so much as a wisp of a smile. “Hey.”

  As he stared down at her, he pushed back into her boldly, holding her prisoner beneath him, while the satiated expression on his features faded and was replaced with a dark look. She remained quiet as he finally spoke. “So, the condom you requested, was it for birth control as well as protection against disease?”

  It took her a moment to digest his clinical, too-polite question, and when she did, she tried to scoot away, but his hands clamped down hard on her waist as he continued to hold her captive underneath him.

  As she remained silent, the look in his eyes turned almost sinister. “Max—”

  “Just answer the question,” he demanded almost brutally.

  She held his eyes, took a deep, fortifying breath and tried to focus on the unnerving conversation and not on the merciless hold he had on her. “Just protection. Not for birth control.”

  “You’re on what? The pill?” he asked as if he had every right to the information. And as he was stilled lodged firmly inside of her, she supposed he did.