Chapter 8 I Prefer a Challenge #3
The corner of his mouth pinches with what might be a smirk. He stops and takes off his suit jacket, placing it on the couch behind him. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“Does the easy way involve you leaving until tomorrow?”
“No.” He raises his chin, staring down at me from across the table, his height and commanding presence making me feel small and vulnerable.
“You told me I could have one night. You lied.”
“Just like you lied when you said you’d be a loving spouse in public.” His English accent sounds stronger.
He shifts his weight, and I shuffle two steps to the side. I’m so close to the bedroom. He’d have to leap over the table to catch me.
He rolls up his sleeves. “Easy or hard way?”
“I’ll scream.” I threaten.
“I hope you do.” A gleam sparks in his eyes.
Oh god. He likes this. The predator behavior and the chase. He wants me to run. Who did I marry?
“If you hurt me, my dad will break the contracts. He doesn’t tolerate abuse.” Not physical harm anyway. Emotional abuse, he’s fine with.
“I wouldn’t dream of hurting a single inch of that delectable body.”
That’s good. But why does he look like he wants to attack me? My heart beats against my ribs. I glance at the open bedroom door and run for it.
I don’t even get three steps before Lachlan grabs my waist and lifts me off my bare feet. He hauls me against him, my back to his hard chest, and covers my mouth, muffling my scream.
I kick and writhe, trying to escape, but he’s too strong. His hand on my mouth tightens. I bite it hard. He doesn’t even flinch. No. He laughs, a dark sound that sends shivers and tingles throughout my body.
His breath warms my ear. “I can make you shiver in other ways.”
I freeze and notice his erection prodding my lower back.
This is turning him on? Lucky me, I married a psychopath.
“No more fight in you?” he purrs, and his huge hand on my tummy pulls me closer.
To my shock, wetness floods my thong, and my breathing turns shallow.
He gives a deep chuckle. “I think you like this.”
No way. I don’t like this. His big hands holding me possessively, his rainstorm oaky scent swirling my nose, his hot breath on my ear, and his huge cock at my back do nothing for me. Nothing.
“Are you wet?” he murmurs, and my core pulses. “I bet you are.”
Slowly, he lowers me to my feet, but keeps me tightly against him, his hand still over my mouth.
“I had things planned differently for us tonight.” His nose skims my neck as he uses it to brush my hair behind my shoulder.
He kisses my hot skin under my ear then nips at my lobe, holding it gently in his teeth.
Tingles erupt throughout my body. Out of all the kissing sessions I’ve had—and I’ve had a lot—no one has ever had me this hot.
“Your breasts look incredible, rising and falling with your quick breaths. I want to fuck them.”
Air catches in my lungs, and my core tightens. That’s one I didn’t learn about in boarding school. I almost ask him how, but he’d have to move his hand for me to speak, and I don’t want him to think I’m interested.
Since biting is getting me nowhere and struggling turns him on, I realize that leaves only one means of escape.
I lick the palm of his hand as if I’m sampling icing from my favorite cake.
He groans and rubs his cock against my butt and lower back.
“That’s a good wife.”
Reaching up, I send my fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp and arch my back, so my ass is against his cock and my breasts are shoved forward.
“I know what you’re doing.” He kisses where my neck meets my shoulder.
I lick his palm more, slipping my tongue between the space of his fingers.
He groans again and murmurs, “Cat-fiadhaich.” It sounds Gaelic.
His big hand moves from my ribs to my breast, cupping the bottom half before moving slowly upward. I suck in a breath and hold it when his thumb grazes my beaded nipple.
Don’t moan. Don’t do it. Hold it in.
I love nipple play and have dreamed of having a mouth on that part of my body.
The one time a guy made it that far was with Gabe.
He massaged my breasts through my bra but not in the way I wanted.
I thought he was going slow for me out of respect.
After learning he was using me, I was left to wonder if he wanted me at all or just my money.
Lachlan’s mouth moves to my ear again. “Fuck my fingers with your tongue.”
I stiffen, and my panties soak more. The way he’s talking to me is crude. I shouldn’t like it.
“Don’t be shy.” His thumb brushes my nipple again and again, the sensation driving me wild.
I send my tongue in and out of the slit between his fingers, doing as he said while he continues to massage the sensitive peak of my breast. My skin feels feverish, my body humming with needs I’ve yet to have met by anyone ever.
He pinches my nipple and a bolt of pleasure shoots to my increasingly throbbing core.
God, I love this. I want this. I want more.
I’m all sensations, tonguing, panting, and rubbing my backside against his engorged cock.
It feels so good. I don’t want it to end.
Never did I imagine I would do this, or like doing this.
This isn’t me. It never has been. But then, I was always careful not to get turned on.
I knew I couldn’t do more than a few kisses or else one of dad’s guard dogs would break up the moment.
Knowing no one is coming to stop this excites me more.
“You want it, don’t you?” Lachlan says and bites my shoulder. At the same time, he pinches my nipple.
I jerk, on the verge of an orgasm—something I’ve never been able to give to myself. Something I’ve never been able to have with another person. Something I never knew I wanted so badly until now.
“Lachlan.” His name is a muffled plea against his hand.
He scoops me into his arms in one swoop and carries me toward the bedroom. I’m shocked, heated, and needy for his hand to be back on my nipple.
I try to shift higher in his arms so I can kiss him and shove my tongue into his mouth like I did with his fingers.
He squeezes me tighter, keeping me too low to reach his face.
I cup his neck and try to pull him to me. I need his lips on mine.
“Lachlan,” I snap, desperate for him to kiss me.
How did I go from trying to escape to this?
He stops at the bed and drops me onto the mattress. I bounce, my dress bunched up around my thighs.
Not the most romantic way to put me on the bed, but whatever. I’m here now. We’re here.
Lachlan stares down at me, his gaze following my bare legs up to my flat tummy then to my breasts and hard nipples. He could strip me. I’d let him. Desire flares in his eyes. He rubs the stubble on his chin as if deciding where to start.
Seconds pass. I don’t want to count them. I want him to touch me.
“One night?” he says.
What? What is he asking? One night with me? “Yes.” I agree.
“Take off your dress. Show me what’s mine.”
I do not belong to him, but in this moment, I don’t mind his possessiveness. It’s working for me.
I rise onto my knees and face him, looking up through my lashes, my cheeks burning. “You do it.”
His gaze dips to the blush on my cheeks before returning to my eyes. “Take. It. off.”
The quiet command has me torn between wanting to please him and the old insecurity I have about my breasts. They’re too big for my body. They look wrong.
He arches a brow. “Off. Unless you’re afraid.”
I raise my chin at his taunt. I’m not afraid. I’m shy, but I’m also strong-willed. “You want my dress off?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“Fine.” I take the hem and yank it over my head, dropping it beside me.
My nipples tighten more under his heated gaze that’s focused on my breasts. I fight the urge to cover myself. I’m in only my lace thong. It’s the most naked I’ve been in front of a man. The most vulnerable.
He steps back and takes me in on my knees. Heated eyes trail over my lace panties, across my tummy, over my breasts again, and up to my face and messy as fuck caramel hair.
“Touch me,” I beg, his gaze stirring heat to places that need attention.
“Touch yourself.” He walks toward the door. To close it?
I’m confused. When he passes into the other room, I spring off the bed, and grab my dress, covering myself in a rush.
“Where are you going?” I ask as he stalks to the hallway.
“You asked for one night. You got it.” He doesn’t bother to look at me.
“Are you serious? You’re here. Forget what I said.” Am I actually begging him to stay?
“I prefer a challenge.”
Air sucks down my throat. The nerve of him! He chased me here. He held me and toyed with me!
I give him the ugliest scowl I can muster. “You’re an asshole.”
At the door, he stops to glare over his shoulder. There’s no mistaking the desire still flashing in his eyes as they roam my barely covered body. “Don’t even think about running.”
“Screw you!” I give him the finger, but my words and the gesture are lost as the door closes.