Killer Secrets (12 page)

She let a knowing smile shape her lips. "If that were
true, you would have already attempted to kill me,

not protect me. Forget the protection stuff, okay, lover?
It doesn't work with me."

She tightened her thighs, an instinctive attempt to hold
back the moisture collecting there. She was so

wet, so hot, that she knew if he touched her that an orgasm
would be imminent. And if she didn't get off

this time, then she was going to shoot him herself.

"What does work with you?" His gaze flicked over
her body again. He knew she was aroused, knew

she was aching.

"It's according to what you want."

"You. Out of Aruba," he snapped.

Kira sighed with amused indulgence and almost laughed at
the male frustration that flashed in his eyes.

"It's not going to happen. Do you have any other
desires that you'd like to pass by me?" Her gaze flicked

to his thighs then back again as her brow arched in mocking
curiosity.

It wasn't a subtle hint, but she and Ian had passed subtle
the first time he had slipped into her condo in

Atlanta nearly a year before.

"This is fucking insane." His voice changed,
became harsher, more grating as his fingers went to the

buttons of his shirt.

Kira tensed. Sudden, almost violent arousal poured through
her body, speeding her heart to the point

that it nearly strangled her as she fought for breath.

The buttons were loosened slowly with the fingers of one
hand, revealing a wide, muscular chest

covered with a mat of short, silky-looking black hair. Not
too thick, but not thin, just enough to rasp a

woman's nipples, cushion or warm them. Her nipples throbbed
at the thought.

"Then why are you here?" She could feel the
perspiration building between her breasts, moisture

gathering more thickly between her thighs.

Rising, she came to her knees once again, watching, mouth
watering, as he shed the shirt, shrugging it

from his broad, well-sculpted shoulders with a ripple of
power that echoed in her womb.

"I'm here because I'm crazy," he murmured, his
legs shifting as he pushed the shoes from his feet while

loosening the slender leather belt and the catch of the
cool cotton slacks he wore. The zipper eased

down.

Kira's lips parted, her breasts rising and falling
furiously as she fought for oxygen. The air was indolent

with lust now, thick, heavy, nearly impossible to breathe.

"Are you just playing again?" she whispered,
suddenly desperate to know. "Please, Ian, don't play with

me. Not this time."

"No games tonight, Kira. Not from either of us,"
he growled. "And so help me, I better get the woman

rather than the agent, or you'll pay hell for it."

The slacks cleared his thighs, revealing the thick, heavy
length of his erection. It was furiously engorged,

the mushroomed crest flushed dark and throbbing, a glimmer
of precum glistening erotically.

"You always get the woman, Ian."

She licked her lips, easing closer, on hands and knees now,
starving for a taste, just a taste of the rich

male essence tempting her.

"You're as fucking crazy as I am," he snarled,
reaching out, gripping the thick strands of her hair and

pulling her back to her knees.

Dominant, powerful. It was there in his face, it raged in
his eyes.

"I want to taste," she moaned, drugged now on the
power, the hunger radiating in his gaze, and the

arousal-based adrenaline pumping through her veins.

There were erogenous zones where she didn't know there were
erogenous zones. Hell, every damned

cell in her body was erogenous at the moment.

"Me first." The other warm arm wrapped around her
hips, jerking her to him as his wants, by right of

might, became uppermost.

As his head lowered, hers snapped forward, her teeth
nipping at his lower lip before his fingers pulled

her back. The sharp little burn of pulling hair had a shaky
groan whimpering from her throat. She loved it.

Needed it. She wasn't submitting. Fuck submission. He might
be an alpha male, but by God, she was his

match.

Her hands lifted, her nails raking over his chest as his
gaze pinned hers. Her lips parted, teeth clenching,

as she drew in a ragged breath.

He didn't flinch from her nails. Instead, his lips curled
into a sexual, sensual smile of acknowledgment as

the reddish-brown lights in his eyes fired to a darker,
burning hue.

She loved it. There was no male irritation because she
wasn't simpering at his feet. And there was no

submission in his gaze either. Just pure, blazing hot, male
hunger and challenge.

"I don't give in," he told her, that raspy tone
sending shivers down her spine.

"Neither do I." She let her fingers play in the
silky hairs that grew low on his abdomen.

"I'm stronger," he promised her.

She smoothed her palms up his stomach, his chest.

"I sure hope so," she crooned as she captured a
hard male nipple against her thumb, and pressed, just

enough. "Oh Ian, I definitely hope so."

His lips slammed over hers as his hands gripped the hem of
her top and jerked it over her breasts. He

released her lips, just long enough to wrestle her out of
the material as she tried to capture his kiss again.

She needed the taste and heat of it. The incredible feel of
his lips moving over hers, dominating hers

despite the sensual struggle she put up.

She wanted to control the kiss, and that was what she
fought for. He was determined to control the kiss,

and the right of might definitely held sway here.
Especially when his arms surrounded her, his head

bending, forcing hers against his powerful bicep as he
licked and sucked and drove his tongue against

hers until she was quivering. Hell, she never quivered for
sex. But she was quivering for Ian. Shaking and

trembling, her pussy clenching, her breasts throbbing, and
imperative, desperate little mewls of pleasure

tearing from her throat.

She spread her fingers through his hair and arched closer,
rasping her nipples over the luscious mat of

hair that covered his chest as his cock slid between her
thighs, pressing into the material of her panties,

driving her crazy with the need for more.

He pulled her head back, pulling at her hair as the fiery
sensation streaked from her head to her nipples,

then to her clit. She had never liked having her hair
pulled until Ian. Until he showed her the pleasure and

the pain, the agony and the ecstasy of being in his arms.

"Just this time," he groaned, his lips moving
down her neck. "I'm going to fuck you until you're out of my

system. Gone. Out of my head." His tongue licked over
her collarbone. "Over."

"In your dreams." Her head tipped back as
pleasure suffused her. "Oh God, Ian. In your dreams."

Pleasure like this didn't just go away. It tortured and
tormented after the act, she could feel it, knew it,

even though the pleasure itself was so new even to her. The
jaded Domme, the feminine sexual dominant

that demanded submission from her males. She was no novice
to sex play, or to sexual games. But she

was a novice to this pleasure, to the sensations rippling
through her and holding her spellbound in Ian's

arms.

As his lips surrounded the hard peak of a nipple, her lips
went to his neck. Teeth raking, tongue licking,

her hands stroking over as much of his flesh as she could
reach.

Hard muscle rippled beneath her touch as the heat and
suckling pleasure of his mouth threatened to

dissolve her. He held her close to him, arms surrounding
her, as though he would never let her go. And

she didn't want him to let her go. She wanted him to hold
her forever.

"Not enough," he growled, moving, flipping her
back on the bed before she could do more than gasp,

and jerking the boxer-type panties from her thighs and over
her feet before she could fight.

She moved to twist away from him, to attack him with her
own passion, her own needs. Before she

could roll from him, his hands pulled her thighs apart, his
wide shoulders wedging between them and his

lips descending to the bare, saturated folds of her pussy.

Kira froze. She couldn't help it. Hell, it wasn't like a
man had never gone down on her before; they had.

She wasn't a virgin. She was experienced. Until Ian got his
lips in the slick, bare flesh between her thighs.

Suddenly, she didn't know what the hell to do.

Because he didn't touch her like an unfamiliar lover. He
touched her like he knew her. Knew what she

wanted. Knew what she needed. Knew that the sudden hard
thrust of his tongue into her pussy would

freeze her with delirious pleasure.

"Ian?" She stared down her body, watching as his
lashes lifted and he stared back at her with

slumberous, hungry eyes.

He licked. A long, slow swipe of his tongue that sent a
ripple of white-hot sensation racing across her

flesh. Especially when he reached her clit, flickered over
it, then bestowed a firm, heated kiss to it.

"You don't like it?" He lifted his head enough to
whisper the words, blowing a soft breath over the

too-sensitive nub of nerve endings.

She stared into the heavy, brooding gaze. What was she
supposed to say? Was she supposed to answer

him?

"Stop talking and keep licking," she gasped, her
hand pressing his head lower, his lips back to her

waiting flesh.

He chuckled, but he licked. Oh God, how he licked. And
sipped, and scraped his teeth over the swollen

folds until she was writhing. Writhing and desperate
because it wasn't enough.

She tried to twist, to throw her leg over his head and rise
to her knees, to sit on that handsome face, that

thrusting tongue. So she could get his cock in her mouth.
She was dying to taste that wicked hard flesh,

to tongue the precum from the tiny slit at the top.

"Stay still." His hand landed on her butt as she
arched again.

"You didn't!" she gasped. He had smacked her?

Okay, so it didn't hurt, it was actually kind of sexy. But
only submissives got spanked. She was not a

submissive.

"Stay still or I'm tying you to the bed."

"Like hell." Her heels dug into the bed as she
struggled from beneath him.

She assured herself that she couldn't have expected what
came next. The way he used her momentum

against her, flipped her to her stomach, then tied one hand
with the long, thin gauze that fell down the post

of the headboard.

Tied her wrist, quick as you please, as he straddled her
back and held her into place. In the next second,

her other wrist was similarly bound with the filmy curtain
on the other post.

"Ian, you bastard!" she cried out hoarsely,
almost laughing, unable to believe how quickly he had

managed to restrain her. And he had restrained her
effectively, wrapping the material around the posts

close to the mattress so she couldn't pull herself up.

"Now, let's see if you can't be a good girl and let me
have my treat," he growled at her ear. "Be very

thankful, Kira, that this night is all that matters.
Otherwise, I'd show you exactly how I would control that

hot little body of yours."

Within a second he was pushing her knees into the bed,
raising her hips and stretching out on his back.

Sort of the position she wanted, except it was the wrong
way.

"This is so wrong," she said, panting as she felt
his broad hands cup and palm the cheeks of her ass.

Then he spanked her again. Light little taps, sharp ones,
heated heavy caresses as his tongue plunged

into her pussy and had her writhing into the caress.