Page 7 of A Forbidden Arrangement
“Okay.”
Fuck me.
It’s barely more than a whisper, but it nearly levels me. My hand comes down on the counter to steady myself, my head lowering until my nose brushes hers.
I am so hard I could take her right here, splayed out on this hotel bar, with everyone watching. Until her body is ruined for anyone else but me.
Her breath mingles with mine, warm and quick. I want to push that skirt up, slide into her, and make good on every word I’ve promised.
But I can be patient. Tonight, I want the build. I want to haunt her every thought, consume them with my hands, my mouth, my voice in her ear. I want her restless, needy for a fix that only I can give.
So I ease back just enough to see her face fully. The pink in her cheeks. The faint parting of her lips. Her dazed, hungry look. All mine.
I let my thumb trace her jaw, slow enough to keep her in this moment with me. “I’m going to take my time, worship you until your mind goes blank and the only thing you can think about is how full you are with me inside of you.”
Her lips part, like she’s about to say something, but I don’t give her the chance. “Come upstairs with me,” I murmur, the words low enough that only she can hear.
She shivers, and I tighten my grip. “Let me ruin you for him. For anyone.”
When she exhales, it’s shaky, like she’s already said yes in her head. I step closer, crowding her, my voice a dark promise against her skin.
“Say yes, pretty girl, and I’ll give you everything I just promised before the night is over.”
Chapter 4
Dahlia
I want this.
The thought dropsinto my chest like a stone hitting deep water, heavy and final. Tonight, I’ll be reckless. I can deal with the fallout when the sun comes up.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I lean in and close the space between us. My lips find his, the decision sealing itself in the heat of the contact.
His sharp inhale hits me harder than the kiss itself. A rush of power streaks through me, knowing I am the one causing his reaction.
He wants me. Not just any woman.Me.
It makes my knees weak, and my pulse climbs.
He recovers quickly, deepening the kiss, his mouth moving against mine with a hunger that leaves my thoughts scattered. He grips my waist and lifts me upward until I’m lifted onto my toes and pressed against him, gasping.
He towers over me, his enormous hands splaying from hip bone to ribs, and heat sinks into me from every point of contact until it feels like my bones are warming from the inside out. My skin tingles, hypersensitive under his touch, like every nerve is reaching for him.
He pulls back, and I follow him, lost in a daze. I take in his sharp jaw and clean angles that make him look carved from something stronger than stone.
His lips curl at my reaction, pupils blown wide, and for a second, I think he’ll kiss me again.
Instead, his hand swallows mine, warm and firm as he turns, tugging me after him like there is no question I’ll follow. His broad shoulders block my vision as his long, sure strides eat the space ahead of us. I have to take two steps for every one of his, my pulse keeping pace.
My toe catches on the carpet, and I stumble, bracing to connect with the floor. He catches me easily, a steadying grip on my waist, before continuing, but his pace slows without a word. The small adjustment does something strange to my chest, a twist of heat and relief all tangled together. He’s still leading me, but he’s paying attention to me too.
I keep moving with him, my fingers curling around his. They help me anchor myself to the moment. Anxious excitement surges in my veins, bright and dizzying. I have never done anything like this before. I have always been the girl who follows the rules, who thinks before she acts, who bends herself to fit what other people want.
Somehow, this stranger makes me want to be selfish. To take what I want and not apologize for it.
The knowledge that I am doing this, choosing this, makes my breath come faster. My heartbeat thuds in my ears. Every step with him is a step away from the person I was earlier tonight and a step closer to someone I’ve never allowed myself to be.
His movements are almost cold, yet there is a subtle, comforting warmth in the way his thumb brushes my hand. I barely register our surroundings as we leave the bar and enter the hotel, only snapping out of it when the elevator dings.
