Sinful Rapture (The Rapture #2)(6)

“Dammit,” she breathed. “I’m not in the mood for your condescending sense of humor.”

Slowly Liam lowered her to her feet, his fingers gently pushing her long hair from her face.

“You think I’m condescending?

She shivered, feeling oddly lightheaded.

It had to be from being carried around like a sack of potatoes, she told herself.

It couldn’t be because she was alone in a sex club with Liam Freaking Conner. Or that her ass still tingled from his touch…

“I’m well aware you think I’m a silly, worthless brat who was given her position because her father is Vigo Angeli,” she forced herself to rasp. “I’m just a joke to you.”

His eyes narrowed, his hand moving to cup her chin. “Don’t tell me what I think. You have no idea.”

She jerked free of his disturbing touch, turning to take a quick survey of the room.

Holy…shit.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

The room looked amazingly normal with an opulent crimson and gold décor that gave off a Chinese vibe. A four-poster bed dominated the center of the floor, and next to it was a large black lacquer cabinet that no doubt held all sorts of strange devices.

The only thing to indicate that this was anything but an upscale hotel room was the wooden X that was nailed to a wall. Padded handcuffs hung from a bar just above the polished boards, and beside it was a low shelf where half a dozen different whips were arranged.

Another dark thrill jolted through her, making her * wet and her nipples harden with an unwelcomed anticipation.

The knowledge pissed her off.

Dammit. She was furious she’d been hauled up here by a man who devoted his life to making her miserable.

Right?

“How did you get a key to this room?” she demanded.

He shrugged. “The usual way.”

Oh. She blinked. He’d reserved the room? Maybe even scheduled a partner who was looking for a meaningless hookup?

“Good god,” she said, refusing to examine why she felt so…disappointed. “You’re into this stuff?”

He prowled forward, looking indecently gorgeous in the muted light.

“I’m into pleasure.” His voice deepened to a low invitation that brushed over her skin, making her shiver. “However my partner prefers to experience it.”

“Yeah well, good luck with that,” she muttered, unconsciously backing away. Suddenly he seemed to fill the room with his raw, savage energy. “I have a cold margarita and a half-naked man waiting for me.”

He continued herding her backward, his eyes a dark emerald as he studied her with a searing intensity.

“I’m a gambler, princess. I never depend on luck to get what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

“You.”

***

Liam watched in satisfaction as Holly bumped into the rack. Precisely where he wanted her.

Not that she appeared ready to capitulate to their mutual need, he ruefully admitted. She’d devoted the past year to denying her desire for him.

He was going to have to strip away her layers of defenses before he could find the passionate woman he knew was waiting for him.

Thankfully, he was damned sure he was going to thoroughly enjoy the process.

She licked her lips, her breathing ragged even as she tried to pretend she wasn’t completely turned on beneath her anger.

“Am I being punked?” she demanded.

He reached to grasp a strand of her dark hair, smoothing it between her fingers.

It was glorious, but he wished she’d left it up.

For the past six months he’d watched Holly enter her office with her hair pulled into a tight bun and her beautiful body covered by a tailored power suit.

And every day he’d fantasized about pulling the pins from the silken strands to watch it spill down her naked body in a cascade of ebony.

Later, he silently promised himself, adding it to the growing list of desires he intended to fulfill.

“Punked?”

She bit her bottom lip, making his cock twitch.

“Sasha is determined to make me forget about—” Genuine pain darkened her eyes.

Shit.

“Your ex-jackass?” he snarled, his entire body vibrating with fury at the mere thought that this was supposed to be her wedding night.

“Ted,” she snapped, as always rushing to the bastard’s defense. “And I wouldn’t put it past Sasha to arrange this ridiculous charade.”

“This doesn’t get any more f*cking real, princess.” He didn’t bother to disguise the dark possession in his voice as his hand lightly circled her throat. Any pretense she didn’t belong to him was over. “It has nothing to do with Sasha or that bastard who thought he could claim what’s mine.”

Her lips parted, shocked acceptance rippling over her face.

That’s right, he silently urged. Look into my eyes and accept that you belong to me.

“This is just crazy,” she breathed.

His hand slid down, smoothing the tiny strap off her shoulder so the neckline dipped down to reveal one rose-tipped breast.

No bra.

Hell.

Liam sucked in a harsh breath, feeling as if he’d just been sucker punched.

How many times had he pictured this woman naked? Enough times to make him begin to fear he was some sort of creeper.