Page 12 of His Mark

The blindfold made everything that much more vivid: every touch, every sound, the heat of him. I could hear the shift of his clothes, the slide of his fingers against my bare skin, the harsh sound of his breathing.

I shuddered, my own breaths coming faster.

His fingers toyed against the edge of my bra, and a shudder rippled my frame. He hummed against me, the vibrations making my knees shake.

Then, in a quick motion, he tore my bra off, making me yelp.

He did it so easily. So casually. Like he didn’t even have to think about it.

The second the fabric tore away from my sensitive flesh, the cold air hit my nipples, and suddenly they were achingly stiff and entirely too sensitive. I whimpered, and a soft huff of amusement reached me.

I heard the sound of my bra being tossed away and landing across the room, and then he cupped my breast with his hand again, his thumb rubbing my nipple, sending sparks skittering down my spine. His lips closed over my other breast, and I arched against him, forgetting every single reason why I shouldn’t be doing this and drowning in why I should. There was no space in my head for anything except his mouth on me and his hand traveling down the lean planes of my stomach.

His mouth was hot, his tongue skilled, and my thighs clenched at the thought of what else he could do with that tongue.

His hand drifted lower, palming the curve of my waist, his touch rough and possessive. A moan slipped out, and a long, low hum emanated from him, the vibrations making my legs shake.

Then, asudden tug, a quick pull, and my pants were undone, the fabric shoved down to my thighs.

I didn’t have time to register what had happened before his hand cupped my sex through my drenched panties.

Fuck.

My hum was high and tense as his teeth dragged against the soft flesh of my breast and caught at my hard nipple.

“So wet for me,” he murmured.

The words sent a shockwave through me, a shiver that started deep in my core and radiated out to the tips of my fingers and toes.

His fingers pressed harder, stroking me through the fabric, teasing me with the promise of more.

I squirmed, trying to press myself closer, desperate for more friction. But his grip on me never loosened, and he kept up his slow, deliberate torment.

He finally released my wrists and my numb arms fell limply to my sides. Sliding both his hands down the length of my arms, he then trailed them over the swell of my hips, gripping me.

Another whimper escaped.

“Patience, Wildcat.”

That voice. That damn, sexy, infuriating voice.

He leaned back slightly, his body no longer pinning mine.

I could feel him looking at me, could feel the weight of his gaze on my bare skin. For a moment we were both frozen.

And then, he tore my panties right off my body like they were nothing more than paper. I yelped, and he laughed, shaming me with his amusement. He leaned in closer, dragging his lips along the length of my jawline.

“Tell me your name,” he said again.

I shook my head.

He made a contented sound as his hand drifted down to my bare thigh, his fingertips trailing a line of heat.

“Fine,” he taunted. “I guess I’ll have to find more ways to make you give me what I want.”

Heat swelled in my belly, and I sucked in araggedbreath.

I felt his fingers just grazing the inside of mythigh. He drew his nose along the line of my throat, inhaling deeply, his tongue following in the wake of his touch.

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