Page 35 of Under Fire

She inched forward, whispering onto his lips, “Have you ever made a mistake?”

He just stared in response, unwilling to respond. If she only knew about the mistakes he’d made.

She let her lips gently dance on his, flickering her lashes up at him. Damn, she was hot.

“Don’t tempt me,” he defied, trying to hold his ground.

“Let me be your mistake.” She pressed her mouth delicately on his before pulling back, smiling. “And you can be mine. What’s a week in the grand scheme?”

Seven days.He closed his eyes, bringing her forehead against his, and just let himself breathe with her. A weird rush ran up his body, something he never felt before, not even when he had literally escaped death.

But, what if seven days isn’t enough?

“Just don’t screw me over,” she whispered. “Please.”

He opened his eyes, studying her. She was goddamn impossible. Impossibly addictive. Her scent, lingering in the air, imprinted on him in a way he knew he’d never forget. Before he could say anything, she continued.

“If you screw me over, it might just shatter me.”

“Fuck,” he groaned and took her mouth once again before adding, “me, too.”

Chapter Twelve

Warren

It didn’t take long before Warren relocated them from the front seat of his truck into her bedroom. He needed space for what he wanted to do to her. The lights still off, her bed lit only by moonlight, he tore off her velvet dress as they crashed down together. Her body writhing underneath him, he drank in the sight of her—so goddam blazing.

Let me be your mistake, Alisa’s words echoed through his mind. She wanted it. Underscoring this, she ran her hands up the front of his shirt, fumbling to unbutton it. With quivering fingers, she got underneath the fabric, feeling his abs and turning him on past the point of no return. But he grabbed her wrists—hard, authoritative. She was about to see a different side of him.

“Did you ask permission?” he asked.

Her lips parted, a little surprised. “Can I undress you, Sir?”

He growled over top of her, tightening his grip on her wrists so she winced. His already-hardened cock throbbed as he watched her response but paused as her gaze flitted to the door.

“Don’t tell me your fiancé is about to walk in,” he said.

“He’s not, I promise. He’s far, far away. I wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Afraid of his wrath?” He meant it as a joke, but the flicker in her eyes told him it was real. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know.”

As she said it, he reached down and slid his finger over her clit, gaining the expected reaction. She jerked, then moaned, sinking into the feeling he gave as he massaged her sweet spot. He compartmentalized, drinking in the fleeting moment.

“There’s something I think you like.” His tone darkened as he watched her twist in agony underneath his hand.

“What?”

She groaned as he worked her clit faster.

“You like being overpowered,” he said, his tone amused. “You like being forced.”

And to prove his point, he pinned her legs down on either side, making her totally vulnerable to him. He brushed his fingers farther down her wet slit and up into her hungry pussy. He kept going for as long as it took to make her breathless, feeling up and down her body as he worked.

“Fuck,” she squeaked out as he pumped his one hand into her.

As he took control of her body, it only seemed to drive her closer to the edge, her back arching back in near euphoria. He knew how explosive that felt.

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