Love at First Sight Series Boxed Set: (Books 1-5)

by Lynn Cooper

  I nod. “Sweet dreams,” I say, closing the bedroom door behind me and making my way across the hall.

  When I enter the guestroom, I instantly feel the loss of Winter’s presence. I don’t even know how it’s possible for a man to become so attached to a woman in such a short period of time. But I sure as hell have, and I’m dying to hold her in my arms again. I’m also eager to take her against her will—within the context of her dirty fantasy, of course.

  With that in mind, I shed my pants. Each guestroom is equipped with a private bath, and I am in dire need of a shower. It’s been a long, hot, sweaty day. Although a real intruder might not give a crap about hygiene, I think Winter would appreciate having this intruder fresh and clean.

  As the warm spray pulsates powerfully against then cascades over my body, I rehearse the fabricated rape scene in my mind. I want my actions to be seamless and believable. The better I play the part, the better Winter will enjoy it. The more convincing I am, the more intense her experience will be.

  Thoughts of pleasing her in this way turn me on so much I could explode. The temptation to masturbate beneath this shower is real. I’m so wired up, I feel like it might be best to take the edge off before I ravish Miss Primrose. But I resist the urge to self-pleasure. It’s her pleasure that takes precedence tonight, not mine.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Winter Primrose

  A NICE RELAXING SHOWER was just what I needed. Even though it is well after midnight now, I feel electric. Knowing I won’t be able to sleep for a while, I decide to forego the pajamas and grab a pair of denim shorts, a silky, pink blouse, a lacy, white bra and matching panties from my overnight bag. I can’t help but smile when I think about Torin hiding it from me.

  I’m flattered he found the bathing suit so sexy and wanted me to keep wearing it. However, I’m super-happy he was thoughtful enough to have James bring my luggage along. If he hadn’t, I don’t know what I would have worn for the rest of the weekend. After the way Torin took me in his office, I might have been plenty content to wear nothing at all for the next two days.

  I wince at the thought of myself being a weekend nudist while checking my phone for messages. Thank goodness, I had the presence of mind to pack it along with all of my other stuff. It’s a thousand wonders I remembered anything at all under the duress of being auctioned off.

  I have one message from Casey. She and I have been best friends since the third grade. Her text reads: Call me as soon as you can. I’m dying to know how the auction went. You didn’t end up with a frog, did you?

  I giggle to myself and hit the speed dial. I would never call anyone else in the whole world at this ungodly hour except for my bestie. She’s a cop and works the graveyard shift. For her, the day has just started. She picks up on the first ring and begins questioning me without so much as a hello.

  “Do I hear ribbiting in the background?”

  “Not even close, Casey. Girlfriend, I landed myself a prince.”

  My comment is met with silence. For a second, I think the call got dropped. Then she says, “Take it easy there. Sounds like you might be jumping the gun a little.”

  I understand my friend’s cautious attitude. She worries about me getting hurt again. After Giovanni screwed around on me, Casey warned me to take it slower with the next guy.

  My breakup was hard on her, too. She was the one who had to see me broken then help me pick up the pieces. It wasn’t pretty.

  “I know,” I say, trying to sound contrite, but it’s hard when I’m so keyed-up and excited. I’m not a fool. At least not the kind I was with my ex. I’m going to take this time with Torin at face value. He’s offering me something I’ve never had before, and I want to take it with both hands without any lofty expectations.

  Casey sighs. “If you know, then why are you sounding like a woman who has fallen prey to love-at-first-sight syndrome?”

  I huff and roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “There’s no such syndrome.”

  “Okay, maybe I made it up, but I can’t bear the thought of you getting your heart broken again. What do you know about this guy anyway?”

  “I know he’s smart, sexy and successful. I know he’s generous, sexy and compassionate. I know he cares about helping others. Did I also mention he’s sexy?”

  “No, you left that part out.”

  Both of us giggle.

  “Seriously, Winter, give me this guy’s name, and l’ll run a background check on him. That way we’ll know for sure whether he’s a prince or a toad.”

  “You mean frog, which Torin Stoke most definitely is not.”

  “No, I mean a wart-infested toad who isn’t worthy of your time and energy.”

  “Okay, run the check, and let me know what you find in the morning.”

  “This is the morning.”

  “Don’t be difficult, Casey. Later on this morning or preferably afternoon. I need to get some sleep.”

  “Don’t I know it! I can’t remember the last time you were awake after ten P.M. Sleep tight.”

  “I will,” I say, yawning. “Talk to you soon.”

  Powering off my phone, I crawl into the middle of Torin’s king-size bed. The mattress is firm yet soft. It’s like lying on a cloud with just the right amount of support.

  Switching off the lamp on the bedside table, I sink into the fluffiest comforter ever. As my eyes grow heavy, I feel conflicted. There’s a tiny amount of relief but a lot of disappointment swirling around in my chest. It looks like Torin has forgotten about playing the part of intruder tonight. Or he could have fallen asleep from being so tired. It would be understandable. I’m somewhat exhausted, too, despite the sexual energy still buzzing beneath my skin.

  Lying quietly in the dark, I tell myself to close my eyelids and go to sleep. I’m willing my body to obey when I hear the sound of heavy footfalls outside the bedroom door. My heart leaps into my throat, and my limbs freeze in fear. I open my eyes and feel my pupils straining to adjust to the darkness.

  My ears prickle at the tapping of masculine shoe soles against the hardwood floor. But strangely enough, they sound as if they are heading away from my door instead of toward it.

  Feeling much too vulnerable in the middle of Torin’s bed, I slide off the edge and make my way to the window. When I pull back the curtain and look outside, the night is eerily quiet and filled with scary shades of black and grey. I stand there gazing at nothing for a couple of minutes then start to feel ridiculous. The footsteps were probably Torin heading to the kitchen for a snack or something. I should go back to bed and stop being so silly.

  The second I start to turn away, the blip of a car alarm sounds then instantly stops. That’s when I see it. A large silhouette leaning against the driver’s side of a Mercedes parked right across the street. Oh, my God! It’s Torin!

  He hasn’t forgotten my fantasy or fallen asleep. He’s duplicating the details of the intruder’s behavior he had described to me earlier. Despite knowing this is all a pretense, I shriek from fear and panic. My body goes into flight mode, and I frantically scurry over to the bed and grab my phone. I don’t want to turn on any lights so I use the glow from the backscreen to navigate around the bedroom. There has to be something big enough to block the door with. Laying my phone down on top of it, I start to pull then push against a massive dresser, but there’s no way in hell to get it to slide across the lush carpet.

  I run back to the window, hoping Torin is still by the car. No such luck. He’s on the move, slowly striding across the street. Oh, crap! He is almost to the lawn. I’ve got to keep him out somehow.

  Leaving this room is not an option. I don’t know the layout of his house and, in the dark, I’d likely fall and break my neck. The best thing to do is stop him from coming in here. Just when I think I’m out of furniture options, I see a big, barrel chair in the corner. If I can push it onto its side, I should be able to roll it over in front of the door.

  Grabbing the arm of the chair with both hands, I plant my knee
against the side and give it a shove. With less effort than I thought, it topples over. A light sheen of sweat covers my forehead, but I feel elated by my progress. Now I just need to start rolling it. I lean back and then throw my weight forward, feeling the chair begin to rock. I got this! I silently tell myself.

  One more good heave and the first rotation is complete. The second comes a little easier. Just one more, and I’ll be at the door. I’m gearing up for the next big push when I hear a scratching sound against the window. It’s probably a long tree limb or something. I have to finish the task at hand before investigating.

  Finally, it’s done. The big, barrel chair is wedged securely beneath the knob. I’m safe. Now I can close the curtain on Mr. Stoke.

  He’s going to be so freaking surprised by my ingenuity. It’ll be a cold day in hell before he gets into this room. Feeling cocky as all get out, I quickly glance behind me and nearly faint. All the blood drains from my face. Torin is looking at me from outside the window with a glass-cutter in his hand. He’s dressed in black pants and a black T-shirt. He looks as dark as the devil and ten times more dangerous.

  My brain screams, Oh, shit! Then my mouth follows with a blood-curdling, “No!”

  He menacingly raises an eyebrow, giving the tool a final turn. With a steady hand, he easily pops out a perfectly round piece of glass and reaches through the newly made hole to unlock the window. Still screaming my head off, I race toward the barrel chair, clawing at the curvature of its back. Despite the adrenaline rush, I can’t get it to budge. I did too good a job wedging it in place. I’m caught in a trap of my own making.

  A weird combination of terror, excitement and anticipation steals all the oxygen from my lungs. My heart is hammering painfully in my chest. The window slides open. Torin is inside, lunging at me. I run as fast as I can toward the master bathroom. If I can reach it in time, I can slam the door and lock him out.

  All too soon I realize I’m no match for his speed and agility. The moment his strong arms form a steel band around me from behind, my arms are helplessly pinned to my sides. He easily lifts my feet off the floor, suspending me in the air with no way to escape.

  I feel another surge of adrenaline spike through my veins and begin thrashing my legs like mad. In less than two seconds, my heel hits dead in the center of his shin. He grunts at the impact then growls deep in his throat. I’m wild with want and a heavy dose of terror. I’m utterly surprised when he loosens his grip enough for my body to slide down his, allowing my bare feet to find the carpet.

  The respite is short-lived. Another wave of dizziness washes over me when he spins me around and pushes me up against the nearest wall. I continue to struggle, seeking a way of escape, but he is so damn big and strong. My efforts are futile. Both of us are breathing hard from the exertion. But Torin still seems to have plenty of stamina when he grasps both my hands and pulls them behind me. Trapping them between the wall and the small of my back, he pushes a hard, muscular thigh between mine so I can’t kick him again.

  His lean hips and the breadth of his chest covers my torso, rendering me completely immobile. He lowers his sinfully-handsome face until it’s close enough for me to see the stubbly shadow of his jaw and the lust burning bright in his dark eyes.

  Being manhandled and roughly moved through space and time by this man is most definitely my fantasy, but it’s obvious he is turned on every bit as much as I am by this taboo scenario.

  The jutting of his steely cock against my mound tells me how much he enjoys being in control. How powerful he must feel coercing my obedience. But in order for this scene to play out to both of our satisfactions, I cannot surrender this easily. I need to struggle more. With my heart racing, I jerk hard against him, trying to twist out of his grasp.

  All I’m doing is wearing myself out. I’m no match for his superior strength. Stealing a glance at his face, I catch a glimpse of his cocky, victorious smile. With just one of his huge hands securing both of mine, he lifts his other to my face. Squeezing my jaw with his fingers, he forces my head even farther against the wall. I’m panting with need as his mouth comes down hard on mine.

  His kiss is unbelievably rough, brutally possessive, and it shakes me all the way to my toes, setting every inch of my skin on fire.

  Hungrily, his demanding lips push mine apart. His tongue thrusts deep inside, delving and claiming every inch of my mouth, letting me know in no uncertain terms I belong to him. Even with his body holding mine captive and his need palpably rising between us, he remains in complete control.

  He keeps kissing me while the hand imprisoning my jaw turns loose and slowly, seductively slides down the thrumming column of my throat in a firm, unyielding caress. When he reaches the base, his fingers encircle my neck with just enough pressure to subdue my breath for several heartbeats.

  The benign yet convincing threat is more than enough to make my imagination run wild, fueling the fantasy to an even higher level of lust and desire.

  Leisurely, his expert hand continues downward. His hot palm skims over my collar bone before lightly caressing my heaving breasts. When he reaches the top button on my blouse, he makes an animalistic sound, lifting his head and breaking the kiss. As much as I miss hearing Torin’s sexy voice, I’m glad he hasn’t spoken to me. All action and no talking has kept my head in the fantasy.

  His ominous expression sends a violent tremor all the way through me, immediately thrusting him right back into the role of intruder. One-handed, he grabs the right side of my blouse and yanks hard. The first button pops and lands silently on the carpet. Another yank and the silky, pink material savagely rips apart, sending the remaining buttons flying through the air.

  I’m helpless against his assault, and being at his mercy turns me on more than I thought possible. The smug look on his handsome face tells me he knows exactly how much I like what he’s doing. I’m still digesting this whole scenario when he roughly pulls down one side of my bra, revealing the swell of my breast and the blush of my areola. Vulgarly grinding his pelvis against mine, he dips his head and takes my stiffened nipple between his lips and sucks hard. I rhythmically roll my hips in response, blatantly pressing my pussy against the bulge of his erection.

  He bites the tightened bud in rebuttal, drawing a cry from my lips. A white-hot heat sears my core as I ride the jagged crest between pleasure and pain. I’m practically humping the knee he has shoved between my thighs in an effort to alleviate the sweet, agonizing torture that’s clenching my cunt, but I know I’m not getting off until he lets me.

  While his lips, tongue and teeth continue to work their magic on my nipple, he reaches between our bodies and hastily unsnaps and unzips my denim shorts. I feel his fingers tug at the opening, pushing it down just enough for him to shove his hand between my trembling thighs.

  He barely gives me a second to process what’s happening before thrusting one finger then two deep inside me. His violation of the most sacred part of my body is a heady mixture of resistance and acceptance. I should be fighting him harder, but how can I when I desperately want his sexual aggression? Why in the world would I stop him when he’s so willing to fulfill my most secret desires?

  I lose myself in the scene completely when he finger fucks me mercilessly, so rough I can barely take it. Just when I think it’s too much, and I’ll have to ask him to stop, my vaginal muscles shamelessly contract around his digits and the ruthless invasion they’re delivering.

  Thoughts of struggling no longer exist when his tongue flicks across my aching nipple and his thumb presses against my clit. When he rubs and circles the tiny bud, I forget he’s supposed to be an intruder I’m terrified of. All I can do is rest the back of my head against the wall and whimper as he draws out the most pleasurable orgasm of my life.

  He groans in unison with my moans and skims his warm, moist lips up the side of my neck. The stubble from his five o’clock shadow is abrasive against my sensitive skin. When he reaches my ear, he speaks for the first time since breaking into th
e bedroom. “You are so fucking wet, you dirty little slut. You like being forced, don’t you?”

  For a millisecond, I have the urge to slap him for being so disrespectful. Then I realize he still has my hands pinned behind me. I had forgotten all about being bound by his other hand while he was pleasuring me. When my climax overtook me, I fell out of character, but the wicked glint in his eyes is telling me he didn’t and hasn’t. He’s still one-hundred percent immersed in the role of the evil intruder.

  Not missing a beat, I spit on his chest, making a wet spot right above his huge pectoral muscle where the black-as-soot T-shirt is stretched the tightest, and say “No, you filthy beast! I don’t like it.”

  “Liar. That pretty mouth says one thing but your hot, tight, dripping-wet cunt says another.”

  “Let me go!” I scream, injecting plenty of distress in my voice to make him think twice about what he’s doing.

  He snarls, piercing me with his dark, intense gaze. “I’ve been watching you for weeks, following you everywhere you go. Do you know what I’ve been thinking about the entire time I was stalking you?”

  I shake my head. “What?”

  “I’ve been thinking about how damn good it’s going to feel to fuck that pretty little pussy raw,” he murmurs huskily, creating an electric buzz of anticipation between us like the crackling of a night sky right before a severe thunder storm. “Now that I have you under my thumb so to speak,” he says finally withdrawing it from atop my clitoris, “I’m going to spread you wide and ride you hard. And you’re going to take it all without uttering a single word.”

  My heart, mind and body screams yes, but in the spirit of the fantasy, my mouth pleads, “Please let me go. I swear I won’t tell a soul about what’s happened. I need you to release me. Please.”

  To my surprise, he lets go of my hands. I bring them around in front of me and alternately rub them to get the circulation going again. Even though he has released his grip on me, he makes no move to leave. Instead, a naughty grin curves his lips, lifting the corners of his sexy mouth. He gives me a stern, commanding look and says, “Shimmy the rest of the way out of those shorts, and get on the bed.”