Sinful Rapture (The Rapture #2)(8)

“No. For the first time in months my world is making perfect sense.”

His hands trembled, his heart banging against his ribs hard enough to hurt. He’d never wanted like this. Not when he was a poor, sometimes hungry kid in Dublin. Not when he’d been living on the streets in Vegas. Not even when he’d decided that Angeli Casinos was going to be his. Only Holly could f*cking wreck him. Only her.

His fingers continued to drift downward, savoring the flat planes of her stomach before toying with the ribbons of her thong.

“What does that mean?”

“I played the gentleman and nearly lost you.” Grasping the ribbons, he gave them a tug, a hard smile curving his lips as the thong fluttered to the floor. “This time I’m taking what I want.”

CHAPTER THREE

Holly had officially lost her damned mind.

There could be no other explanation for why she was allowing this madness to continue.

And she was allowing it, she was forced to admit.

Liam had been his usual arrogant self, but there was no way she could pretend he’d forced her. Not when she knew that one genuine protest from her would have brought an end to the bizarre encounter.

The truth was that she’d wanted this man from the second she’d caught sight of him at the charity event. And that desire had only intensified over the past six months of working constantly together.

Now her entire body was on fire, demanding to have her hunger sated.

Even worse, there was a tiny, wicked voice in the back of her mind that was urging her to give in to the inevitable.

It reminded her that this was her non-wedding night.

What better revenge on her bastard of an ex-fiancé than to enjoy a few mind-blowing orgasms?

Especially with a man he’d always hated?

“And what about what I want?” she asked, her voice husky.

His fingers lightly traced her bikini line, sending shockwaves of pleasure jolting through her.

“We’re about to find out,” he promised, a knowing smile curving his lips as he felt her tremble.

Arrogant bastard.

She’d always been a vanilla girl.

She made love with Ted in a bed, lights out, and over quickly enough that she didn’t have to worry about oversleeping the next morning.

Now she was in a sex club, with a man she claimed to hate, and handcuffed to the wall.

And she’d never been so turned on in her entire life.

Still, horny or not, she did have limits.

She deliberately glanced toward the whips that were hung next to her head.

“You try to hit me and I’ll kick you in the nuts,” she warned.

His lips twitched. “No pain, princess.” His fingers slipped between her legs, brushing her clit so lightly it was barely a tease. “Only pleasure.”

She bit her bottom lip, her toes curling in her stilettos.

“This is insane,” she sighed.

He stepped close enough to trail a line of kisses down the curve of her neck, the stiff hardness of his cock pressed against her stomach.

Christ. He was huge.

“Inevitable,” he said.

Holly shifted with a growing impatience. She was desperate to feel him thrusting deep inside her, but she’d be damned if she’d beg.

“Do you always handcuff your women?” she instead demanded.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, slowly torturing one nipple before he turned his attention to the other.

“Only when they need the opportunity to enjoy a complete surrender.”

“Complete surrender?” She stiffened, a strange fear inching down her spine. No. This was a night of madness. Nothing more. “In your dreams,” she hissed.

He leaned down to take her nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to send a rush of moisture to her cunt.

“Oh, you’ve been in my dreams,” he whispered, his finger continuing to brush over her clit. “Every night for the past year.”

Her hands tightened around the chains that held her to the bar hanging above her, her body bowing with a need that was threatening to make her self-combust.

“I don’t surrender,” she said between clenched teeth. “Not to anyone.”

His finger slid into her wet opening. “And that’s the problem.”

Holly struggled to breathe. Hell, she struggled to think.

“What is?”

His thumb circled her clit as he rubbed his cock against her stomach.

“You’ve kept your emotions so bottled up they’re about to explode.”

Her eyes slid shut. She didn’t want to discuss her feelings.

Not with a man who treated her as if she was little more than a spoiled child.

“What do you know about my emotions?”

“This isn’t the time for a prolonged discussion about your daddy issues—”

“Don’t.”

He lifted his head to study her with an unnerving perception.

“But we both know that you’ve spent the past year pretending to be someone you’re not,” he pressed.

She parted her lips to tell him to go to hell, only to give a gasp when he grabbed her hips and turned her to face the wall. There was a clank as the bar above her head swiveled to accommodate her new position, her wrists still firmly held by the handcuffs.

“What are you doing?”