Chapter 5
Rayna
Why is he looking at me like that?
Ever since she’d told Lord Norland her name, his honey-coloured eyes had taken on this dark, sleepy smokiness, and his pupils had expanded, almost consuming the entirety of his irises.
Not to mention, no matter how much she pushed, he was refusing to release her, his hand massaging her waist in such a slow rhythm it was almost as if he were doing it subconsciously.
And he wore the faintest, drugged smile too.
If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve said—
“You have a beautiful name, sweetheart,” Lord Norland purred.
The blatant suggestion in his deep, rich voice stabbed through Rayna’s midsection, releasing a torrent of prickling understanding.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
That was the expression and timbre of a horny man.
Great! The bloody damned marquess had gone from wanting to kill her to wanting her full stop. And fuck, it was wrong on so many levels, but her body was reacting to the clench and release pattern of his caressing hand, softening and warming right between her thighs.
It was a quiet tingle, but it was very much shockingly present when it wasn’t supposed to be.
She had to defuse the situation immediately before it escalated past control.
His control. Not hers. Because no fucking way was she ever going to let herself lust for a Study. No matter how good-looking he was.
Rayna locked her elbows with renewed purpose, trying to break out of Lord Norland’s hold, but it was near impossible.
The man was huge, his body all hard, powerful muscle against her.
At five-foot-four, she was neither small nor tall, but her gaze only came level with his sternum, and the breadth of his shoulders was ridiculous.
He wasn’t quite barrel-chested, but he was sturdy and wide, and his arms were as dense as steel beams. If he enveloped her in them both, she would have found herself completely buried against him with no escape route.
Heck, one arm had her feeling like she was fighting to move three tonnes of weight.
He was strong. Dangerously, irritatingly, deliciously so.
No! Not delicious. Not that.
Realising she was losing what little energy she had left trying to free herself, Rayna gave up pushing. She had no choice but to rely on Lord Norland’s embrace to keep her steady as she breathed like she’d been running for miles.
He’d come very close to causing her some serious damage. Thankfully, she was still able to swallow and speak, which was a good sign, but her throat was definitely going to be sore for the next day or so. Ash would have to examine her to make sure though.
“Let go of me,” she rasped.
“Hmm,” he hummed almost to himself, a mischievous twinkle dancing through his eyes.
“I have been considering doing so with all your impatient squirming. But if I may be honest, I have no real desire to release you.” His mouth tipped wolfishly as he lowered his face over hers.
“You feel ever so exquisite in my arms, sweet Rayna.”
A blush bloomed on her cheeks for reasons Rayna would never be able to explain, and it grated on her nerves that he’d managed to elicit such a response from her. It had to be as a result of the situation, so damn baffling that it’d rewired her emotions into all the wrong sockets.
That would explain the soft fluttering just above her sex too.
With the way his grin widened in smug satisfaction, she knew he’d noticed her pinkened skin, which churned her embarrassment into gnawing frustration.
“I must admit, though, while I am pleased that you are now here,” he continued, “I am very curious to know what brought you to my holding cell. Did someone send you here?”
She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Let me go, and I’ll explain.”
One of his brows quirked with feigned consideration. “You make a tempting offer. But I would prefer to listen to your answer while still holding you.”
A low snarl formed at the base of her throat, but she shoved it back into the fragile cage that housed her temper and let out a slow, silent exhale.
Be nice, Rayna. He’s a Study, and he’s been locked up for two weeks, remember?
Yeah, well, he nearly fucking killed me so…
“I haven’t completely recovered from what just happened, Lord Norland,” she said firmly in a bid to rekindle his earlier remorse. “I need to sit down.”
His smile dampened. “I understand.”
Finally.
Or not.
Because Lord Norland released her from his clutches, but he didn’t actually let go of her.
Instead, the horny fucking bastard tucked one fat arm under her arse and lifted her off the floor like some circus muscle man showing off his brawn.
Rayna squeaked and jerked into his thick frame, her hands instinctively fisting his linen shirt over his shoulders as she seesawed on the seat of his forearm.
“Easy there,” he said with a faint chuckle, spreading a large hand between her shoulder blades and nudging her even closer until there was barely an inch between their faces.
The delight that deepened the shades of yellow in his amber-ringed eyes set off a bomb in Rayna’s pulse, but this time she couldn’t quite contain her outrage.
“Lord Norland,” she snapped with a croak. “Put—”
“Dominic.”
The smoothness of his voice derailed the intensity of her anger, leaving her opening and closing her mouth on incoherent syllables. “What?”
He flashed her a crooked smile. “Since you have permitted me to use your given name, I would like you to use mine too. So please. Call me Dominic.”
A roadrunner zigzagged in her mind as she chewed over her options—one spiteful and the other logical. “Dominic,” she eventually said. “Put me down.”
Lord Norland’s—or rather, Dominic’s—lashes dropped to half-mast as he shuddered.
His heady exhale traced a dozen paths across her jaw and neck, leaving a scattering of sparks in their wake that made Rayna stiffen.
She held her breath, her heart ringing in her ears as her attention homed in on the flush of lust painting across the marquess’s cheeks.
Oh, shit.
Trouble. That look was pure trouble.
Bloody woods, was he a rake? River hadn’t said so, but he was making the face of a sex-starved beast, drooling over the thought of deflowering the nearest woman, so he probably was.
But, fuck, did he look pretty. If she put her hand around his throat—
Rayna!
“Put me down,” she said quickly, sounding far too breathless. “Now.”
“Of course, sweet Rayna.”
Dominic clearly had a different definition of “put me down,” because he began walking towards the bed, still carrying her.
A blaring siren startled her heart into a panicked rhythm, but he was already sitting himself on the edge of the mattress.
With a soft sigh, he settled her across his lap, her legs dangling on one side.
“Is that better?” he said, snaking both arms around her waist and locking her against him.
Better? Was he fucking serious?
“This isn’t what I meant,” she said, trying not to growl.
Bracing her palms against his firm pecs, she squirmed to push herself off the comfortable seat of his thighs.
She was more than aware a few of her fingers were curling into the warmth of his tanned, hairy skin where his shirt hung open.
But it became the least of her problems when Dominic hissed out a breath and curled towards her.
Something thickened and pressed against the side of her jeans-clad thigh.
Rayna stilled like lava poured into cold water. Her muscles solidified, but heat sizzled and spat right under her skin.
That’s not…please tell me that’s not his…
Dominic let out a single huff of pained amusement. “I would recommend against wriggling on a man’s lap, sweetheart. Unless it’s done with a particular intention in mind.”
Her lips parted as if they wanted to retort something snarky, but curiosity waved like a strung-up bag of catnip before a feline that had only just learned the delight of being high.
All her words evaporated into a hot puff of air as her lashes collapsed and locked on to their target.
Fuck. He’s…
Rayna gulped as a sharp pulse snapped up her belly.
Well-endowed was one way to describe the marquess.
Like he’d shoved the bottom half of a bowling pin into his breeches was another way to put it. And it didn't seem like he was fully erect either.
Prickling sensation whizzed down the zipline of her neck as Dominic hummed the softest moan into her ear.
She sucked in a breath, knowing fully well the situation had gone way beyond what it should have.
But instead of shoving herself away with all her might, her nails anchored deeper into his chest as the lord skimmed two fingers against the line of her jaw.
“Do you understand what I mean, pretty Rayna?” he said, and the slightest scratch of his overgrown stubble sent electricity zipping through her pussy.
“Do you know what it is that you are staring at? The reaction that you have caused me to have?” His fingers slipped under her chin, nudging her attention back up to his stare, still hungry but now flickering searchingly.
“Or do I owe you another apology for attempting to ruin the innocence of an untouched flower?”
If she told him she was innocent, he’d let her go immediately. That much was obvious. So why were her lips lifting into a smirk as she arched a sarcastic brow?
“Oh, you owe me an apology for sure. Just not for that.” A fat grin of wonder burst onto his face, and she rolled her eyes. “Now let go of me so we can actually have a conversation.”
Rayna swung her legs over, and Dominic actually made space between his thighs for her to stand in. Except his large hands moulded to her waist and held her there instead of letting her move away.
She jolted, her hands flying back to grip his thick wrists as he practically buried his face in the arch of her back. “Dominic,” she rasped, eyes wide and legs wobbly.
“Rayna,” he echoed in the same way.