Oh, right. Dom. He was the dominant one. The one who controlled the pace, dictated the play, gave the orders, not her, but...
She slid her hands under the lapels of his ceremonial robe. Mac purred, arching into her touch, heart slamming as she drew circles across his chest.
Umm, anything.
Shit, he loved that word. Couldn’t get enough...of her taste, her touch, the way she felt in his arms and fit against him. She was heat lightning in a bottle, incendiary yet somehow contained, driving him closer to the edge and out of control.
It’s what she wanted, he knew. No limits. No mercy. Just him, her, and a whole lot of down and dirty. And they would get to that, but not yet. Maybe not for a while. He yearned to love her properly first...to go slow, be gentle, give her everything she deserved while he got all he needed.
Love and trust. Decadence and delight. Tenderness disguised by dominance. Perfection. Just like Tania...everything he wanted, and all that he feared.
Confusion circled deep. It didn’t make any sense. How could he want her so badly yet be afraid to commit to something long term? The whole thing mystified him. Which was...well, no great surprise considering who he held in his arms. ’Cause, yeah, his ability to think straight while anywhere near Tania? Two things that didn’t go superwell together.
Especially while she wore a scrap of silk she liked to call a dress. But God help him, he adored her in it. Another paradox, but as Mac cupped her shoulders, stroking his hands over her bare skin, he couldn’t bring himself to care. So he was confused. So he didn’t have a clue what he was doing or where the hell their relationship would go. He was here now. So was she, in a barely there, strapless dress. Umm-umm good. Sexy and demure, all at the same time. His favorite combo, and matching her caress for caress, Mac wondered if she’d known that. Had she worn the gown with him in mind? Hoped to turn him on and make him lose control?
Good strategy. Effective too.
And beneath the domed roof, cocooned in candlelight and surrounded by colorful dragon art, Mac understood his peril. Tania would burn him alive before she was through. Lock him down. Tie him up inside his own head. Rule him so well she conquered him completely. Mac knew she could do it. Shit, he’d barely touched her yet, and he was already there. Ready to stomp on caution. Throw a lifetime of autonomy out of his mental locker room and surrender.
Become 100 percent hers...in every way a male could for his woman.
Raking her hands through his hair, she strung kisses along his collarbone, and Mac pushed the worry aside. The future would wait another day. God knew his female wouldn’t. She wanted what she wanted...preferably right now.
Tracing her silk-clad curves, Mac bumped her cheek with his. She got the message and, raising her chin, offered him her mouth. He hummed, parting her lips, making her open wide for him, and walked her backward across the rotunda. A bedroom. He needed one. ASAP. Before he did something stupid, like strip her down and make love to her here...where anyone might walk in and see them. One problem, though. He couldn’t stop touching her long enough to jump-start his brain. He knew he needed to pick her up, carry her under the archway, down the stairs, and get good and gone, but...holy shit. Tania wasn’t cooperating. She enticed instead, amping him up with her sweetness, whispering his name between kisses, stoking him with her busy, clever, beautiful hands.
And oh man, liquid heat. Passion incarnate. Way beyond good.
Breathing hard, he dragged his mouth away from hers. She protested and, tightening her grip in his hair, tried to bring him back. He shook his head, desperate to hold the line. “Tania, you...we should...oh Jesus! Don’t do that. Don’t—”
She didn’t listen. Showing him teeth, Tania nipped the underside of his jaw. Mac lost his train of thought. He groaned, loving her mouth on his skin, and she attacked the belt holding his robe closed. Her hands brushed over his chest. He cursed, muscles twitching as she reversed their positions, turned him, then pushed backward, forcing him against the wall. Her smile one of wicked delight, she grabbed his lapels and yanked. The heavy material parted, then slid from his shoulders, down his arms, and—
“Drop it.”
Mac obeyed and let the robe fall. It pooled around his feet, leaving him without a stitch on. “Honey, we can’t stay here. Let me take you to—”
“You want me?” Licking over his pulse point, she sent her hand south.
His breath seized inside his chest, fracturing his good intentions. And he waited, craving her touch so badly he couldn’t think straight. “Oh fuck...baby, come on.”
“Do you?” Her fingers danced across his abdomen.
“Yes!”
“Then my way first,” she said, her tone soft, her touch electric. Kissing her way across his chest, she flicked one of his nipples with her tongue. When he groaned, she raised her head, met his gaze, and dipped her hand. With a gentle touch, she explored the head of his erection. She played a moment, circling the sensitive tip, prolonging his pleasure, making his hips curl toward her. “I want you here, Mac...in the rotunda. You deep inside me, your spice on my skin, and the scent of tiger lilies in the air.”
Thrusting into her palm, he struggled to hold the line. To tell her no, but God, she was persuasive. And as she stroked him, adjusting the rhythm to give him maximum pleasure, he rode the razor’s edge. The one called Tania. His female. Glorious in her passion. Unrepentant with need. Determined to have her way.
“I’ll be quiet.” Cupping his nape with her free hand, she set her mouth to the corner of his and whispered, “No one will hear us.”
“Motherfuck, I...” She upped the rhythm. Unable to deny her, Mac tipped his head back against the wall. “Oh God, yeah. Just like that, Tania. Don’t stop...don’t stop.”
“I won’t.”
Under her spell, lost to everything but her, Mac growled and invaded her mouth. Burying one hand in her hair, he fisted the other in her skirt. Jesus, it wasn’t right. Not any of it. Was so fucked up, Mac didn’t know how he’d ended up naked in a public place, pushed up against a wall while Tania dictated the play. Things like that didn’t usually happen to him. At least not unless he made it happen. So, yeah. No question. She should be the one without a stitch on, stripped to the skin, 100 percent under his command, subservient while he dominated.
Too bad he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not while she kissed him. Not while she teased and tempted, making him yearn for more. Her grip tightened around him, and Mac lost his ability to breathe. So much for moving to a bedroom. To hell with decency and decorum. Screw the possibility of discovery. All he wanted to do was please her. In whatever way she demanded.
Right fucking now.
“Tania, where’s the...” Running his hands over her back, he tugged at her gown. “How do I get this off?”
“Zipper...left side.”
He found the clasp on the first try. Thank fuck. He couldn’t take much more. Not without raising her skirt and...
The zipper slid down. She shrugged. He yanked. The strapless dress resisted a moment, then slid to her waist. His breath caught. Oh thank you, God. No bra, just smooth-as-silk skin poured over pink-tipped breasts and unbelievable curves. The sight of her pushed him over the ragged edge. It was the only explanation. The only viable reason he snarled her name and spun her around.
She gasped as her shoulders touched the wall. Controlling her completely, he held her there while he shoved her skirt up, the red silk rose, and he caught her scent. Ready and willing. So hot for him he tasted her arousal. “Spread your legs.”
“What?”
“Playtime’s over.” Cupping the back of her knee, he hooked her calf over his hip. “Spread ’em.”
Shock flared in her dark eyes. Mac showed no mercy. He caged her with his body, using the wall for leverage, pushing her thighs wide, settling into the cradle of her hips. His mouth a hairbreadth from her, he held her gaze, moving slowly, daring her to stop him, and slid his hand beneath her skirt. He skimmed her thigh, caressed the lush c
urve of her bottom, loving the softness of her skin. Desperate for more of her heat, he reversed course. His fingers dipped deep, slipping beneath her panties to find her core.
And oh God. Slick. Hot. So fucking wet.
She took his breath away, then stole his mind while she moaned his name. The urge to take her hard—do her right, make her scream—bombarded him. Mac clamped down on his need, struggling to keep it together. But each gasp, every shiver, the way she moved against his hand cranked him so high there was nothing left to do but fall.
And still he played in her heat. Torturing himself. Unable to deny himself the pleasure of watching her...of listening to her beg him for more.
“Oh yeah, that’s so...” Tipping her head back, she writhed against him, lips parted, need in her eyes. “Oh. My. God. Mac, you need to...I’m gonna...oh, please, now...please!”
Circling his thumb against the bud of her sex, Mac sent one finger deep. He set a pace designed to drive her wild: slow, sure, one delicious glide after another. She tightened around him. He backed off, wanting her on edge, nowhere near ready to let her come. When she exploded into orgasm, he would be buried to the hilt inside her, experiencing it all: the feel and sound, the unbelievable scent of her while he stroked deep between her thighs.
“God, please.” Her plea echoed against the high dome, shattering the quiet.
“Thought you were going to be quiet?”
“Shut up! And just—”
“Who’s begging now, mo chroí?” Sliding a second finger deep, he upped the pace, making her ride each rolling thrust. “Tell me. Who?”
“Me. Just me.” She met his gaze head-on. Honest need. Explosive desire. Incredible trust. Mac saw it all, every bit of what he wanted in her eyes. Slipping her hands into his hair, she kissed him softly, tenderness personified. “Please, Mac. I need you.”
I need you too.
Like a confession, the words streamed through his mind, but he didn’t say them. He couldn’t. Each one got stuck in his throat. All he could do was show her, and so he did. Murmuring her name. Caressing her just the way she needed. Telling her she was beautiful, how much he wanted her, how precious she was to him.
And as she responded to each truth, he withdrew from her core. A sharp tug, and the lace covering her ripped. Unable to wait a second longer, he set himself at her entrance and pushed. Mac bit down on a shout. Mother of God. She was fucking perfect. So tight, her slick heat resisted as he worked himself inside.
Squirming against him, Tania cried out his name. He didn’t stop. She’d asked for him, just...like...this...and so she would take him.
Every last inch.
One hand pressed flat against the wall, the other cupping her bottom, he buried himself to the hilt, listened to her gasp, filled her full, possessing all of her. When she twitched, Mac adjusted their position, waiting for her to relax against him. He was a tight fit, and Tania needed time to accept his invasion. And so he stayed still, held back, forcing himself to be patient even though it almost killed him.
He wanted her to move first, and—
Oh yeah. There it was...her sigh, the gentle shift, the welcoming warmth. Opening her eyes, she looked at him.
He smiled at her. “Hold on, honey.”
“Maybe you should do the same.” Her warning came with a kiss, soft and sweet, a second before she nipped him...hard. “Now move.”
Sir, yes, sir. His pleasure...entirely.
Starting the ride, she rolled her hips into his. He followed her lead, letting her control the pace, watching rapture gather in her eyes. Her lips parted on a long-drawn moan. Mac took advantage, kissing her the way he always did in his dreams, mating their tongues, taking her higher with each stroking flex and release of his body. Raking her nails over his shoulders, she purred, and Mac read her like an open book. Gauged her increasing urgency. Thrust deeper, giving her all she asked and more. Slick skin sliding against hers, he circled his hips, worked her hard, each breath a rasp at the back of his throat, only one thought in his head.
Tania.
So beautiful. So right. Made solely for him.
She was so close now. So very close. All she needed was a little push...a tiny shove...the right move to send her over.
Leaving her mouth, he growled, “Give it to me, Tania.”
The sound of his voice sent her over the edge.
“Oh fuck yeah. Come on...come on, love.”
Squeezing him tight, she clenched hard around him. He snarled her name. Gripping his hair with twin fists, she threw her head back and came undone, exploding into bliss. Her cry bounced, tearing through the rotunda. Energy throbbed in the air, buffeting him with wave after wave of intense, all-consuming power. The territorial beast inside him growled in satisfaction, and still Mac rode her, the air sawing in and out of his chest, moving between her thighs, propelling her into another round of delight.
Glory, glory hallelujah.
She was incredible. So amazing in the throes of ecstasy Mac lost control, let her drag him under, and surrendered to her mastery. Became weak to her strong, wrapped her against him, tucked his face to her throat, and rocketed into the devastating pleasure she gave him. But as his legs gave out and he sank to the floor with her cradled in his lap, one last thought circled...
Oh how he loved Tania’s anything.
And yet as the bone-melting aftermath of bliss took hold and his guard came down, Mac realized something important. His uncertainty about the future didn’t seem quite so uncertain anymore. He closed his eyes, unable to deny the truth any longer. Somehow, someway, Tania had wormed her way into his heart. And that scared him more than a full squadron of rogues ever would.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Wearing nothing but skin, Tania lay gasping in the center of the big bed. In Mac’s room. Hands bound with red ribbon. Arms stretched above her head and secured to the headboard. Cracked wide open, vulnerable to Mac and his special brand of domination.
Oh God, how she loved him.
And what he did to her.
The intensity was incredible. But the pleasure? Unbelievable. So catastrophic Tania didn’t know how much more she could take.
Holy jeez, he knew how to please her. How to ensure maximum effect while he held her hostage. Broke her down until helplessness blurred into bliss. The heat of his touch, the scent of his skin on hers, the way he controlled and made her submit...all of it pushed her toward the pinnacle, into an experience she hadn’t known she was missing.
Tied-up Tania.
Uh-huh. That sounded about right. And she allowed Mac to do it all, any way he wanted...and usually ended up begging for more.
Strange, really. She hadn’t known she had it in her. Had never been interested before, but with Mac? Well, the lines blurred, leaving her with nothing but the truth.
She thrived under the spotlight of his dominant nature. Got off when he controlled her so completely. And as he spread her beneath him for...what? Maybe the fifth time in as many hours, she accepted everything he gave her. Moaned his name. Parted her thighs. Wrapped her legs around his waist as he stuffed a pillow beneath her bottom, angled her hips up, then rode her toward oblivion.
Her grip tightened around the ribbon binding her. Soft satin and intense lovemaking, a decadent combination. One that sent her over the edge so fast, Tania forgot to breathe. Suspended in pleasure, she heard Mac’s shout, felt his body stiffen and the warm throb deep inside her. Hmm, yeah. There he went, losing control, giving Tania her due, coming apart so fast she reached orgasm again, throbbing hard around him.
“Fuck me,” he groaned against the side of her throat.
Heart hammering like runaway voodoo drums, she gasped, “Thought I just did.”
He huffed, the sound half laugh, half moan a second before he went warm and heavy against her. With a sigh, Tania followed his lead. As she softened beneath him—cradling him between her thighs, her knees up around his hips, holding him the only way she could—the relaxing curl of afterglow took ho
ld.
Minutes (or hours later...Tania didn’t know), Mac raised his head. Cool air washed in, prickling along her shoulder and neck as his skin left hers. She grumbled in protest, wanting him to come back. He shifted instead, making her hum, pressing deeper between her thighs to prop himself up on his elbows. Languid, suffering from a serious case of fuzzy-brain syndrome, she forced her eyes open.
The color of turbulent seas, his gaze met hers. Hmm, so nice. Not to mention a huge switch. At the cabin, his glowing irises had freaked her out. Now? She loved it when the Mediterranean blue shimmered like that.
Now it roamed, warming her face as he brushed the hair away from her temples. “You okay? I wasn’t too rough?”
“Nah-uh. Sheer perfection.”
Satisfaction stole into his expression. Reaching up, he tugged at the satin knots securing her hands. A moment later she was free, and Mac went to work, unwinding the ribbon from around her wrists, massaging the marks on her skin, then the palms of each of her hands before moving on to treat her fingers.
She sighed. “So nice.”
He murmured in answer. When he was done taking care of her, he caressed the undersides of her arms, encouraging her to bring both down from above her head. She took the hint and, twining them around his neck, pushed her fingers through his hair. With a soft growl, he arched into her touch, enjoying her foray across his scalp. She gave him more, playing in the soft strands at his nape.
“God, unbelievable. You’re so fucking good, honey.”
Tania’s heart swelled at the compliment. It was one of many she’d received throughout the day. He liked to talk while he loved her into a pleasure coma, and she couldn’t get enough of him...or the wicked timbre of his voice every time he whispered something naughty in her ear.
Everything he said made her feel worthy.
Desired. Important for a change. More than just the pretty face men saw but never looked beyond. No one cared that she was smart, that she had feelings, ambitions, and needs of her own. All they saw was a curvy brunette. Not her. Never the real her.
Fury of Seduction Page 30