"But what?" He could barely get the words out.
Her eyes searched his. "You wouldn't...hurt me."
He imagined the thoughts running through that pretty head.
No doubt she wondered whether he got off on tying his
partners up and whipping them raw. He swallowed a
laugh. "No. But I'll push your boundaries." It was how he
was wired.
Her sigh of relief tightened something inside him. The
interest and growing need in her eyes sparked something far
more primal and possessive.
Without warning, the dark hunger he'd held at bay swept
over him in a powerful wave, making him light-headed with
the need to take her. Testing her resolve, he closed his
hands around her slender wrists and held them to the bar
top as he bent to taste the skin beneath her right ear. Her
swift intake of breath made his cock surge.
He kissed the fragile pulse point, savoring the frantic
beat of her blood beneath his lips for a moment before
nipping gently. She jerked in his hold and made a little
sound of arousal when he soothed the tiny sting away with
his tongue. A tremor rolled through her body, goose bumps
breaking out across her smooth skin. Then slowly she let
her head tip back a few inches, offering her throat.
The subconscious surrender in the movement made his heart
pound. He hoped the hell she understood what she was
signing up for, because he was more than ready to deliver.
He could feel the tension gripping her body as he held her
there, trailing feather-light kisses across her jaw to the
corner of his mouth. Keeping her hands in place to
introduce her to the sensation of being restrained, he
hovered a breath away from her tempting lips. And waited.
A moment later, she closed her eyes and turned her head to
kiss him. A slow mingling of lips and tongue, as addictive
as a drug. She softened, yielded. Her timid, yet sensual
response went to his head like a fifth of whiskey. Before
he could take things further, he pulled back. When she
opened her eyes and gazed up at him in silent question, he
released her wrists and stepped away. "Let's go," he said
in a rough voice.
She straightened slowly, watching him with equal parts
arousal and indecision. Deke held out his hand and waited.
Her gaze slid down to his palm, and he could feel her
struggling with herself. She studied his hand, and he knew
she was taking in its size, how much stronger it was than
hers. What his control over her would mean during sex. If
she put her hand in his, she was his for the night.
Meeting his eyes, she finally lifted her hand and settled
it on his palm. Her skin was cool and soft, delicate
compared to his. Something to be treasured. He closed his
fingers around hers and squeezed, her need and unspoken
trust in him easing something in his chest.
Oh, sugar. You're mine.
Without a word, he turned and guided her out of the bar.
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