“They can’t see anything,” he soothed at the same time that he applied more pressure on the back of her head.
He clenched his eyes shut and hissed a curse when she leaned over and inserted the tip of his cock between her pursed lips with no further encouragement. Her tongue, agile and supple, bathed the head in liquid heat. He lowered his hand to her shoulder, steadying her since she had no use of her hands, handcuffed as she was. Her lips slid down beneath the head and pistoned wetly for several hard strokes directly on his most sensitive spot.
He groaned gutturally in sublime pleasure. God bless it, it felt good.
He said nothing but lifted his head off the back of the seat in order to watch her moving in his lap. She worked more and more of his length into her mouth with each pass. He wished he could see her better as she sucked him, wished he could see her lips spread widely to accommodate his girth.
She had the talent, that much was certain. Because of the size of his cock a woman usually required the use of her hand in addition to her mouth to bring him off. But Laura would have him exploding in a matter of seconds if he let her continue. Her mouth was deliciously warm and wet. How did she know to turn her head slightly on the upstroke, giving a tight, delicious twist directly on his sweet spot? Her lips held him in a secure clamp and her suck—
His head fell back on the seat. He growled in intense arousal at the sensation of her taking him deep, leaving only several inches neglected at the root. Her hunger stunned him. Was it really possible to train a woman to crave cock with so much intensity?
Fury mixed with his intense lust at the thought. When she slid the tip of his cock into her throat and he felt her constrict around him, pulling and taunting him, he promptly forgot about any other man touching her.
He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her up. She stared at him from her bent-over position as he fumbled in his jean pocket for a condom, her exotically tilted green eyes glistening with a lust that even she couldn’t deny.
It was nearly more temptation than he could master not to push her sweet mouth back onto his cock.
“Come here, baby,” he ordered in a no-nonsense manner once he’d rolled the condom on his rock-hard erection and slid back his seat to give them a little extra room.
She sat up slowly at his command. She once again glanced warily out the window at the truckers in the distance.
“No, Shane,” she whispered. “They’ll be able to see.”
“They might,” he said in a steely soft voice. “But not any of the essentials. And I want my cock inside your pussy. Now come here.”
He watched as she closed her eyes and licked her damp lower lip in an anxious manner. When she opened them her gaze fixed on his straining erection. He sensed her desire to please him, even as she pleasured herself, like a powerful stimulant being mainlined into his veins.
He reached for her.
She didn’t fight him as he leaned back in his seat and drew her into his lap. Her breath came in warm, uneven puffs on his neck while he positioned her hips over him and guided the tip of his cock to her pussy. He inhaled her unique scent mixed with the intoxicating odor of her arousal.
“God you’re so hot . . . so sweet,” he muttered as he entered her. Her heat penetrated through the thin barrier of the condom immediately. He pulled her down on him, his desire clawing at his insides like sharp talons. She cried out at the impact of him embedding his cock in her so abruptly. Her head fell forward until her brow rested on his shoulder.
“Fuck me,” he whispered next to her ear.
When she merely whimpered and the muscular walls of her pussy tightened around him he repeated more stringently, “Fuck me, Laura.”
“I hate you,” she muttered through clenched teeth at the same moment that she flexed her thighs, raising herself over him. She sank back onto half the length of his cock rapidly, causing a brisk whap of flesh against flesh.
He gripped her ass and added his own strength to her flexing thighs. “Keep it up, then, because it feels incredible.”
“Shut up.” She lifted her head and Shane saw that her cheeks were damp with perspiration and tears. He reached up and tenderly dried the wetness at the same time that he flexed his hips, powering his cock into the sleek tunnel of her pussy. He held her gaze. When he filled her she clenched her eyelids shut, her beautiful face tightening with pleasure.
The muscular walls of her vagina tormented him as he rocketed into her again and again. Every time he moved out of her she pulled and sucked at his cock, tempting him inward, taking him on a wild, chaotic ride of hedonistic pleasure. He was so lost in her that at first he didn’t notice her pause in their frantic mating.
“Oh God, I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” she whispered brokenly.
Shane blinked, allowing a sliver of reality to penetrate his thick arousal. He heard a truck honk its horn loudly only to be followed by another in quick succession. He tightened his grip on Laura’s bare ass.
“Ignore them,” he said, referring to the truck drivers. “They don’t know you. The only thing you need to worry about is giving yourself to me, baby.”
She sobbed spasmodically. He felt her trembling beneath his hands, felt it around his buried, straining cock as well. He opened his mouth to soothe her when he felt her press down tightly into his lap and he realized she was coming.
Heat flooded around his cock.
“That’s right, let go. You’re mine.”
He lifted her and pounded her down over his cock in rapid, short strokes, no longer aware of his surroundings, slicing himself again and again on the cruel, sharp blade of ecstasy that was Laura.
She didn’t speak to him for the entire drive to the cabin except for once.
“Don’t you think you’re being self-destructive, Shane?” She’d curled into a fetal position, her face turned away from him, the moment he’d set her back in the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt twenty minutes ago. Shane had to strain to make out her words since her cheek was pressed into the back of the seat.
“Quite possibly,” he responded grimly as he drove.
Her head came up slightly at that. “Why only possibly? From where I’m sitting there’s no uncertainty in the matter. You’re throwing away your career by doing this.”
“You think I haven’t thought about that?” he asked pointedly.
“Then why are you doing it?”
“Because there’s more to my identity than just my career!”
She stared back, clearly surprised by his intensity.
He didn’t say anything for several moments as he drove. He could tell by the way she put her head back on the seat resignedly that she thought he was too furious and stubborn to reason with.
Which was at least partially true.
“It all depends on you, Laura,” he said quietly after a minute. “Either I’m one hell of a smart son of a bitch or a deluded idiot. If my bet was on the latter, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
He glanced over at her huddled figure, catching the glint of her open eyes watching him in the dim light.
Shane stared straight ahead grimly. She may not be talking yet, but one thing was for certain.
He’d gotten Laura’s attention.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What isthis place?” Laura asked as she peered through the front window into a nearly impenetrable black night. She’d been hyperalert ever since Shane pulled off the rural two-lane highway a half hour ago, her eyes seeking out signs and landmarks as to their location. She’d need any information available to her if she was to break free of Shane and make it to a phone.
At first she’d been heartened by all the houses and condominiums that they passed. She’d seen a sign as they entered the residential community welcoming them to Eagle River. Apparently the resort included a ski hill, a hotel, a spa, and several golf courses.
When Shane had turned off the main residential road onto a narrow rural route thirty minutes ago, however, and the lights of
the cheery chalet-style houses had dimmed, Laura’s hopes had dimmed along with them.
Shane turned off the engine of the car and then the headlights. Black night enveloped them.
“It belongs to my father. He bought it for fishing and hunting, but he hasn’t been able to use it much in the past year.”
Laura squinted to make out his profile in the darkness. “Has . . . has your mother been ill?” she asked. Laura had loved Shane’s mother once. Perhaps she still did. Who knew the full extent of the damage time wrought on the heart?
She heard Shane sigh but he remained unmoving. Through some cruel joke of fate Elizabeth Dominic’s effervescent, vibrant personality had been housed in a frail body. “She had a stroke a year ago. She’s still as sharp as ever mentally, but she has to use a cane now to get around and she tires easily.”
Laura stifled the words of sympathy that flew to her tongue. Their exchange of words felt too intimate here in the darkness, as if the blackness could cloak the bizarreness of the fact that Shane had taken her captive . . . that he planned to make her submit to him.
He didn’t seem to expect any condolences, however. More than likely he believed her to be bereft of human feeling—a belief that she’d harbored far too many times to count over the past decade, as well.
He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. A light pierced the darkness and Laura realized that he held a small flashlight in his hand. He certainly needed it. Whatever luminescence that might have come from starlight seemed to be largely obscured by thick surrounding foliage. Apparently Alex Dominic had gone rustic in his choice of cabin and bought one in the midst of the woods.
“Uncuff me. My arms are killing me,” Laura said after Shane had retrieved several bags, including what appeared to be groceries, from the trunk and came around to unlock and open her door.
“When we get inside.”
She ground her teeth at his cool tone and the firm, impersonal grip he put on her elbow as he helped her out of the car. It was bad enough to consider how she’d been so drunk with lust that she’d fucked him in clear sight of a bunch of horny truck drivers just hours ago. But her humiliation seemed to amplify a hundredfold at his brisk, businesslike manner with her as he led her into the cabin. She really might have been a criminal under his jurisdiction, the way he was treating her.
“You said you would uncuff me,” Laura reminded him acerbically several minutes later.
She sat on the couch shivering, watching Shane as he turned on lights and the furnace, checked the supplies in the luxurious kitchen, and put away the supplies he’d brought.
Alex Dominic had only taken his concept for a rustic cabin so far, Laura thought as she studied her surroundings. Alex and Elizabeth had never lacked for money, that much was certain. Shane had grown up in an enormous house on Chicago’s affluent Gold Coast, the type of place that had been called a “townhome” in the nineteenth century but that people accurately labeled a mansion in this day and age.
The modern timber structure that Alex had purchased for outdoor sport had all the modern conveniences, including a kitchen with sleek stainless steel appliances and a gas furnace, although it would take a while for the heater to chase off the winter chill.
Shane didn’t respond to her petulant comment immediately but just continued to survey the maple cabinets and what appeared to be a walk-in pantry. Laura could almost sense him making a list in that methodical brain of his of what was available. Eventually he came into the spacious living room, removed his coat, and flung it on the couch beside her.
“Come on,” he said with a tilt of his chin. “There’s a fireplace in the bedroom. A fire should keep us warm tonight.”
Laura rose and walked down the only hallway in the otherwise open layout of the cabin, Shane following closely behind her. The hallway led to a large bedroom suite.
Laura’s eyes skimmed over the comfortable, luxurious furnishings, lingering on the bed. When Shane signaled that she should sit on the bed while he went about building a fire, Laura sat in one of the upholstered chairs. His lips tilted slightly at her small show of defiance.
She watched dully as Shane laid and lit a fire. A wave of exhaustion had hit her, weighting her limbs. He sat back on his heels in front of the hearth. A single golden flame flickered upward, licking at first tentatively at the newspaper and kindling, then more hungrily. She stared, mesmerized by the sight of Shane’s immobile, bold profile set against the growing blaze.
She blinked, forcing herself to look away and examine the room in which she found herself. The headboard of the bed was made of a matrix of wrought iron that resembled tree branches with leaves interspersed throughout. The color scheme of the bedding, pillows, upholstered chairs, and matching ottomans and draperies was a cozy burgundy, gold, and forest green. Laura thought she recognized Elizabeth Dominic’s sure, knowledgeable hand in the cabin’s homey decorating scheme. Despite the Dominics’ wealth, Laura had never been in a more welcoming home than Shane’s parents’, largely due to Elizabeth’s influence.
She stared in disbelief when she saw a landscape oil painting on the far wall.
“My mom has followed your work over the years. She never purchased any of it firsthand from your gallery. She thought it might make you feel uncomfortable if you knew she was the buyer. She’s acquired several pieces though—another painting and several pieces of sculpture.”
Laura turned, realizing Shane must have observed her looking at the painting. He nodded toward it as he stood.
“That one reminded her of the landscape in this area, what with the rolling hills and the way the trees turn so brilliantly in the fall.”
“Why did your mother think I wouldn’t want to see her?”
Shane shrugged and Laura suddenly understood. It was the same reason Joey didn’t bring up Laura’s name in Shane’s presence, or why he so rarely spoke of Shane in front of Laura—because of their history together . . . and the strange, abrupt ending of that history.
She suppressed a sigh and swept the room once again with her gaze. It struck her that she felt familiar in these alien surroundings—familiar and good—almost like she’d come home.
The realization made her go on the offensive a few seconds later when Shane suggested that she use the bathroom first and then followed her to the entrance.
“You’re going to create a far worse enemy than you already have if you try to come with me into this bathroom!”
“Actually, I was going to uncuff you,” he murmured wryly.
He reached into his jean pocket and extracted a key. Laura stared up into his face warily as he leaned over her and reached behind her body. She winced in mixed pain and relief when he released her wrists and tucked the cuffs in the back pocket of his jeans.
She immediately tried to move away from Shane’s overwhelming presence but he grasped her upper arms and began to massage them. A groan of discomfort escaped her throat as regular blood flow returned under his molding palms. Sharp prickles of pain tore through her flesh only to be followed by a tingling rush of warmth.
“Stop it,” she muttered, twisting her chin and pressing it into the wool of her coat, trying to shut his rich scent out of her nose.
Much to her surprise he complied immediately.
“I’m agreeing to your request on this occasion only because the lock on the bathroom door is a joke. Don’t bother locking it. If you do I’ll break open the door,” Shane said. He handed her one of the bags that he’d brought in from the trunk. “There are toiletries in there for you to use. If you’re not out of here in five minutes flat, I’m coming in to get you.”
“Please, you’re overwhelming me with your benevolence,” she said scathingly. She took a small measure of satisfaction in shutting the bathroom door in his face.
As soon as Shane was on the other side of the door, however, all of her composure melted. She turned and stared unseeingly at the marble countertop of the sink before she lunged forward and turned on the tap, panicked. T
he running water muffled her sobs. She sat on the closed lid of the toilet, trying desperately to control the intense emotion that surged up from her chest, gripping at her throat . . . holding her hostage just as surely as Shane Dominic did.
For a wild minute that stretched interminably she thought she wouldn’t be able to bring herself under control. It infuriated her. He infuriated her for forcing her to feel so much.
She’d worked so hard . . . endured so much. Now that her goal was within reach, Shane threatened to ruin everything she’d lived for these past years.
Now that she’d had the opportunity to think about the bizarre circumstances of Telly Ardos confronting her tonight, she was regretful she hadn’t immediately gone with him and possibly avoided Shane altogether. She’d realized too late Ardos had been the anonymous caller. She’d been confused by Ardos’s abrupt overture, frightened by the fact that he’d grabbed her and threatened her with a gun.
What if Ardos—or the mysterious person to whom he’d referred—truly had something of importance to tell her? Her impulsive resistance of Huey’s old friend might have cost her the break she needed. Now Shane had kidnapped her and brought her to this cabin. What if the opportunity to get evidence against Moody had vanished by the time Shane allowed her to return home?
She cursed under her breath, her irritation at Shane helping her to get control of the powerful wave of emotion that had nearly overcome her. She rose and quickly removed her coat before she used the toilet, frowning when she thought of how Shane had watched her at the gas station earlier.
Arrogant bastard, she fumed.
Her frown faded when she noticed how wet things were between her thighs. She closed her eyes tightly, ordering her mind’s focus away from the humiliating, arousing memories of Shane touching her.
She looked longingly at the large steam shower, wishing she could wash away the evidence of her body’s betrayal, but decided there wasn’t time. The last thing she needed for her composure was Shane bursting in on her while she was naked and vulnerable in the shower.
Beth Kery Page 9