Page 12 of Her Outlaw Prisoner
I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. Her pupils are blown wide, her lips swollen, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. She’s never looked more beautiful. And she’s all mine.
I slide my hand under her chin, forcing her to hold my gaze. “You want more?”
Her breath catches. But then, slowly, a small, shy smile curves her lips. “Yes.”
Fuck.
I grip the edge of the table, barely hanging on to my last shred of control. The way she’s looking at me, her eyes filled with a trusting innocence. It’s dangerous.
She leans in, her lips brushing against my ear. “I want you, Ronan. Please.”
Jesus Christ.
A deep, guttural sound rumbles from my chest. She’s playing with fire. And she fucking knows it. I grab her hips, yanking herforward to the edge of the table until there’s nothing between us but heat and fabric and need. Her breath hitches.
She knows she’s in trouble now. I smirk against her jaw, my voice dark, low, and dangerous. “There’s no going back now, baby.”
Chapter Four
Ellie
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I should stop.
Ronan Callahan is no ordinary man. He’s a dangerous man, an inmate with a terrifying past. A man with whom I have no future…
I really shouldn’t be doing any of this.
But the moment Ronan’s mouth crashes against mine, I forget common sense. His lips are firm, demanding, sending a shock wave through my body that leaves me breathless. My fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him closer. Every inch of me is burning, my skin hypersensitive to every place he touches.
I’ve never done this before—never needed anyone like this before. Maybe it’s because with Ronan, I don’t feel small or weak. Maybe it’s because this powerful man lets me touch him, tease him, take from him…
Maybe it’s because for the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to be in control of something.
I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, pressing my body against him, and I feel his sharp inhale, like I’ve caught him off guard.
I affect him. As much as he affects me.
The realization sends exhilaration rushing through me and I grind my body against his. A deep, guttural sound vibrates in his chest, and his hands tighten on my hips, pulling me closer, until there isn’t a single space left between us. I can feel him, his hardness…every solid inch of muscle and heat pressed against me, and it makes my stomach clench, my thighs tighten.
I should be nervous.
I’ve never been this close to a man before, never let someone touch me like this, never felt the weight of desire pressing down on me so hard I can barely breathe.
But I’m not scared. Not of him.
His fingers skim down my spine, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every dip, every curve. My breath stutters when he reaches the small of my back, his fingertips slipping just beneath the hem of my shirt. Just enough to tease. Just enough to make me want more.
He breaks the kiss first, but he doesn’t go far, his forehead resting against mine. His breath is uneven, his fingers flexing against my skin like he’s still holding himself back.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Eleanor,” he rasps.
I shiver. Because I do.
And I love it.
I tighten my grip on his shirt, letting my nails scrape against his chest, and the muscles beneath my fingers tense. His eyes darken, the control in them slipping, and a thrill shoots through me. I like this. The tension, the push and pull. The way he’strying so damn hard to stay in control when I can tell he’s this close to losing it.
