Sweet Temptation (Sweet #4)(3)

His fingers curled. He could feel the slight weight of the globes in his palms as surely as if he were standing in front of her, measuring their size with his hands.

She was a perfect hourglass, her hips slightly wider than her waist, her belly flat and drawing attention to the soft curls between her thighs. They were dark like the fall of hair spilling over her shoulders, and they shielded her femininity, revealing nothing of what lay beneath.

But he could imagine. Oh yes, he could feel her damp heat as he parted the tender folds and delved beyond the silky curls. He’d stroke a finger over her clit and then trail lower to her center, stroking inward, feeling the clasp of her pu**y sucking him deeper.

Jesus. Sweat beaded his brow, and his c**k swelled and strained against his fly.

What about her did it for him? It wasn’t as if he didn’t see women like this in The House all the time. Was it the mystery? Was it her arresting beauty? Or maybe it was the way she arched and bowed her body, seeking the kiss of the whip even as she flinched away.

She was into it in a big way. Deep. Her eyes were closed, but he was sure they were dark like the rest of her. Those sumptuous lips puckered and parted, opened and closed. She made the most delicious, arousing noises, and he wasn’t the only one affected.

Other men watched, as transfixed by the sight as Micah was. Lust blazed in their eyes. They wanted her, but so did he.

Oh yeah, so did he.

He started forward again, his entire concentration on her, on the man making her writhe beneath the whip.

Cole looked up as Micah neared, and he paused, whip held high in the air. And then as if sensing his approach, the woman turned her head and opened her eyes.

Liquid heat exploded through his body. Her eyes were so expressive, so bright with passion, and she didn’t look away once their gazes collided. He could drown in those dark pools.

Her lips trembled, and for a moment he sensed deep vulnerability, a fact that made him suddenly fiercely possessive.

No, he couldn’t look away any more than she could, and he waited for what he wanted. Acceptance.

Her small, pink tongue flicked out, licking over her lips in a sudden, almost nervous motion, and then she nodded, need firing in her eyes.

Cole reached out to touch her shoulder, and it was all Micah could do not to react violently. He didn’t want Cole—or anyone else—touching her. She was his for this moment.

“Are you sure?” Cole said in a low voice only she and Micah could hear.

Her gaze flickered, and she turned briefly to look at Cole. Again she nodded, and her eyes flashed as she refocused her attention on Micah.

Those lips. God, those lips. He was dying to taste them, and suddenly he knew he had to. Even as he took the whip Cole extended and stepped forward, his movements were jerky and urgent.

He cupped her jaw in one hand, slid his fingers over the softness of her cheek, then slanted his lips over hers and took them hungrily.

He swallowed her gasp. Her taste exploded onto his tongue as he swept it over her mouth, inward, stroking deep. Sweet. Warm. Soft like a woman should taste.

Her tongue met his, boldly tasting him in return. Hot and wet, they dueled, neither backing down. An electric current raced up his spine, ricocheted off the base of his skull and sizzled over his nerve endings like a bolt of lightning.

Starved for air, he yanked himself away, his breaths coming in quick, jerky pants. She stared at him in wonder and swayed against the bonds holding her hands.

He took one step back and slowly circled until he stared at the slim column of her spine.

“Dance for me.”

The whip uncoiled and then came alive, arcing and then landing with a sharp crack. A glow rose on her skin, and her erotic moan hovered, sweet and arousing.

The room quieted, and her soft cries grew louder, more frequent. Moans. Sighs. A woman on the verge of climax.

She captivated him. Mesmerized by the sight of her reacting to his whip, his touch, his command, she excited him on a primitive level. She touched him in places that hadn’t felt warmth in a long time.

He didn’t understand it, but he latched on to it like a man starving.

The whip coiled and snapped, hissing and then landing, the welt rising on her skin. She rose up on tiptoe, her body straining even as she arched her back, waiting, wanting another lash.

The muscles in her slender arms rippled, and her fingers splayed out, stretching and then curling into her fists again. Faster, she moved in time with the lashes, dancing an erotic rhythm that held the room in her thrall. Race to release. Micah watched in fascination as he worked her into a heated frenzy.

The last lash fell just as a cry of sweet ecstasy burst from deep inside her. The sound was primal and beautiful, and it instilled an ache in his gut that extended to his balls. He was painfully erect, his c**k bulging against the zipper of his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to shove his pants down and bury his c**k between her ass cheeks. He wanted her ass, her pu**y, her mouth. He wanted this woman.

No longer able to keep from touching her, he ran his fingers over the thin welts crisscrossing her back. She moaned softly, leaning into his caress. He smoothed his palms up her back and then under her arms and down her sides.

Wanting to look into her eyes, to see her again, he walked around her, letting his hand trail over her skin until his fingers rested on her belly and he stood over her.

“Look at me,” he said huskily.

He lifted his hand to her chin, tilted it up so her gaze met his.