The sensation sent waves of blackness rolling through her mind, but this black fire was as hot, as wild, and as masculine as the man who looked up at her with such sensual possession in his eyes. “Give in,” he whispered. “Let me make you feel good.”
It was an incredible leap for her to make, for a woman who’d never known intimacy, but she had to do this . . . because there would be no second chance.
CHAPTER 30
Quickly stifling that thought lest it escape, she watched as he rose to his feet and pulled off his T-shirt. Her throat dried up. “I guess all that kickboxing has its benefits.” She didn’t know where the words came from when her brain was stunned by the raw male beauty of him.
He chuckled. “I’m glad you approve.” There was an almost arrogant confidence in him, but she liked it. Better that in Dev’s eyes than the terrible pain she’d glimpsed for an instant when she’d spoken of forcing him to invade her mind.
Hands on her hips. Warm. A little rough. Perfect. She sucked in a breath, and when he lifted her, it was instinct to wrap her legs around his waist. He moved her until she—“Dev!” she screamed into his mouth as his still-covered cock pushed into her softness, parting her with possessive heat, the thin cotton of her panties no barrier.
His thumb smoothed over the crease of her thigh, inciting her to move impatiently . . . but that only rubbed her clitoris against him, further tightening the fist that was her body. Breaking the kiss, she pushed at his shoulders. “It’s too much.”
“You can take it,” he cajoled, kissing her neck, sucking on the beat of her pulse. At the same time, his fingers slid smoothly inside her panties, parting her with even more intimacy. Gasping in a breath, she buried her face in his neck. He smelled of heat and desire and a scent that was pure, aroused male. No, not just any male. Dev. She’d asked him if it would be like this with any other man, but she’d already known the answer—no. It would never be like this again. From the start, he was the only man she’d truly seen.
His fingers pinched her clitoris, that tiny nub of flesh she’d always known about scientifically but never really understood until this moment. Pleasure arced through her in an almost violent wave, and she could feel that fist within her tightening, tightening.
“Do you like that?” he whispered against her ear, releasing the pressure to circle the flesh he’d tortured so sensually the instant before.
“Yes.” She pushed into him, wanting to rub, but held in place by the delicious heat of his body. The weight, the pressure, it ratcheted up her hunger until she could hardly breathe. “Touch me.”
His lips curved. “Demanding, aren’t you?”
That smile made her breasts ache, it was so full of promise, of desire. “You’re teasing me.”
“It’s part of the fun.” One finger flicked over the bundle of nerve endings she so desperately wanted him to touch much more firmly.
“This,” she said, stroking her hand down to graze one flat male nipple, “is not fun.”
“On that we’ll have to agree to disagree.” His voice was husky, his skin hot under her touch.
He was reacting to her, she realized in wonder. Continuing to pet him, she found herself listening to every hitch of his breath, wanting to do what pleased him most. When his ridged abdomen went rock hard as her nails scraped over his nipples, she repeated the caress.
A single word that turned the air blue. Pulling out the hand he had between her legs, he grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Now,” he murmured, eyes locked with her own, “where were we?” His free hand slid back down, over the twisting ache in her navel, under the edge of her panties, and— “That’s not fair,” she somehow managed to gasp.
A kiss that stole her breath. “Who said anything about playing fair?” He rubbed lightly at her cleft, making her entire body clench. “Will you let me in, Katya?”
She shook her head. “No, you should be punished for teasing me.” But her body was already silken with welcome for him, her flesh lusciously damp.
“Please?” Another kiss, another intimate touch. And she found herself arching into the finger he stroked gently inside her. The sensation was the most exquisite pleasure-pain, as if her nerve endings were on overload. But instead of wanting less, she wanted more. More and more. Here, in his arms, the torturer’s dark room seemed light-years away. How could nightmares invade when there was so much heat, so much feeling?
“That’s it,” he murmured against her throat as he kissed his way back up to her mouth. “Move on me.”
She couldn’t stop the strangely fluid movements of her body—part of her knew what to do, how to do it. “More,” she ordered, nipping at his ear.
“You’re too tight.”
“More.”
Groaning, he slid a second finger inside her and pumped once. Twice. Pleasure and pain, a stretching ecstasy. Her arousal peaked, hovered there, waiting, waiting . . . His thumb brushed her clitoris.