Page 32 of Dragon Touched
Chapter 18
Fin
Finnibbledhiswayto the tops of Sacha’s breasts.
A glimmer of gold peaked above the clothing.
Irritation and delight warred within. How had she managed to swipe the ring? Worse, why didn’t he notice her pilfering fingers? She quickly broke through his defenses, and the thought disconcerted him.
He rose onto bent elbows and peered into her face. Light from the crashing streaks outside sharpened her features.
Dark lashes rested against olive skin, and a sensual, satisfied smile made his heart melt and his mind explode.
Dipping his head, he pulled the bodice of the gown and nipped the necklace with his teeth. Once it was secure, he dragged the cool metal across an exposed, rosy nipple.
Gooseflesh broke out, and she whipped her head back and forth on the pillow. Her soft moans caressed him like hands.
The sounds almost made him drop the jewelry and flick her soft flesh with a tongue.
No, let’s see how long it’ll take her to realize I’ve found what was lost.
Still leaning on his arms, his mouth tugged the metal along her neck, then lowered it enough to let the dangling ring pool on her bottom lip.
The soft cries stopped, and a furrow appeared between black eyebrows.
She drew a breath and stilled. Her eyelids popped open and landed on the necklace hanging from his teeth.
“Dammit.” Her body tensed as if she wanted to run.
He dropped the chain, ring and all, into the hollow of her throat and grabbed the shackles from a pocket. With a quick movement, he slapped one on her left wrist, anchoring it to the bedpost.
Her eyes, still coated with the lusty aftereffects of arousal, stared, unblinking.
“It seems”—he stood and pulled the other manacle from his robe—“that I have a vermin problem. My things have started to disappear, but I know how to solve the issue.” He dangled the other cuff from his fingers. “And to think—I was beginning to trust you; even let you touch me.”
And he was damned if that wasn’t the truth.What had he been thinking?
“W-what are you doing?” Her stare darted from his hands to her bound wrist, like she didn’t quite believe what had happened. “I-I thought this was a dream . . .” her words were weak, as if she talked to herself instead of aloud.
Panic replaced the dreamy glow, and he chuckled, the sound low and wicked.
“Ensuring my things stay put.” He reached for her free hand.
“Let go.” She kicked out and tried to claw his arm with her nails.
“And”—a smirk pulled one corner of his mouth—“making sure you don’t leave this bed until dawn.” He loved her fight—her fire.
“You son of a bitch.” Her voice shook, either from fear or anger—he wasn’t sure which.
“Now, now, love. You’re the one with sticky fingers.” A still spell came to mind, and he uttered the words and threw a hand toward her. “They must be contained, little klepto.”
Her brown eyes spit fire, even though the rest of her body was as unmovable as a moth caught in a spider’s web.
He loosened the enchantment on her free arm enough to latch it to the bed, then negated the entire spell.
“This is illegal!” Now able to move, she bucked her hips and pumped her feet.
“So is stealing.” He sat on the bed, careful to keep away from sharp knees and kicking heels.
