Page 806 of One More Kiss

Taking advantage of his distraction, I lifted my arm and ran my hand along the top of the car door, reaching for the latch. It was a mistake. I should have known a man like him would never truly be distracted. His gaze locked on mine, then lowered. I looked down to see my sundress was still unbuttoned. My pink lace-covered breasts were on full display. I snatched at the loose fabric, drawing it closed. With shaking fingers, I desperately tried to grasp the tiny pearl buttons and push them through the small sewn slits.

That was my second mistake.

Prey should never take its eyes off a predator. The moment I did, he struck. Wrapping his firm hand around my neck, he yanked me forward. Dragged across the leather back seat, I practically fell across his lap. My hand rested on his right upper thigh. With a shocked gasp, I tilted my head back to see his dangerously amused smile.

Then he kissed me.

Although kiss was not the right word for his brutal assault of my body and mind.

His mouth claimed mine, his tongue taking possession, tasting, almost devouring me. It wasn’t just his lips on mine. It was his hand fisting my hair. The feel of his hard chest against my breasts. The press of his cock against my hip as he pulled me further onto his lap. His entire body enclosed mine within his overwhelming embrace.

I swung my head violently to the side to break his kiss as I pushed against his chest. “Stop!”

He snatched my jaw and dug his fingertips into my cheeks. Leaning in close, he growled, “You can’t say you don’t want it.”

My eyes widened. I was awestruck at the audacity of his statement. My mouth opened and shut several times before I could find the words to respond. “Want it? Want it? You kidnapped me. You then terrorized me and… and I… I… I don’t even know your name and you think I want to… to….” I trailed off to a sputtering stop, unable to express the vulgar word.

His tongue flicked my ear. “Fuck. The word is fuck, cara mia. And yes, I don’t just think it, I know it.”

He reached for the hem of my sundress.

“No. Stop!” I clutched at the thin fabric, crushing it in my fist as I struggled to keep it below my knees.

With a snarl, he released his grasp on my jaw. His face was close to mine, holding my gaze hostage as he snatched at my dress and tore it right up the middle to my upper thighs. Pearl buttons flew in every direction and pinged off the car windows.

Before I could scream, his large hand cupped between my legs. My cheeks flamed as he pushed one thick finger inside of me, using my arousal to slide in easily. His right eyebrow arched.

I clutched at his wrist, trying to dislodge his hand, but I wasn't strong enough. “So, my body responded to your touch. It means nothing. It doesn’t mean I want you.”

His lips caressed mine as he spoke, his warm breath a heated kiss. “That is precisely what it means.”

He thrust his finger in and out. I bit my lip to stop from moaning.

My head rolled back when he pushed a second finger inside. It had been so long. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been with anyone. No man ever seemed to match up with the romantic intensity of my book boyfriends. So I had given up trying to find one.

He took advantage and ran his open mouth up my neck to bite my earlobe. “Admit it, cara mia. You want this. You want my hands on you. You want my touch. You want my co—”

I shook my head before he could finish. “No. This is Stockholm syndrome.”

He chuckled. “You haven’t been in my clutches long enough for that, my dear. No, I think you have a thing for bad men. Is that it, Avery? Do you like being forced to submit to my touch?”

His steady, rhythmic thrusting was driving me crazy. My inner thighs clenched as I tried to force the vision of him replacing his fingers with his cock from my already confused and aroused mind.

The pad of his thumb stroked my clit, and my hips rocked forward, pressing into his touch.

He leaned down and licked the curve of my breast. “A woman is never aroused just by a touch. A man must first arouse her mind. I think my little captive secretly likes dangerous men.” He brushed the neckline of my sundress further aside. “Pull down your bra.”

“Please, just let me go.”

He pulled his fingers from my pussy, and I immediately felt empty and wanting. He then pinched my clit painfully hard.

I jumped and clutched at his T-shirt, wrinkling the soft fabric. “Ow. Please stop.”

His dark gaze searched my tortured one. “Why do you make me hurt you, cara mia, when I only want to bring you pleasure?”

Did he expect me to answer such an absurd question?

The tense silence stretched between us. Then his gaze lowered to my chest, and I knew what he wanted. As a tear slipped down my cheek, I reached between my breasts and yanked on the bra band, pulling it further down my torso and exposing myself to his avaricious gaze.

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