Killer Secrets (13 page)

"Untie me." Her voice was strangled, the
imperative need for orgasm rising hard and fast inside her. "I

want to touch you too. Taste you."

"Not on your life." He nipped at the swollen
curve of one labial fold. A soft, gentle little bite that had her

jerking in painful pleasure. Damn him, that shouldn't feel
so good. It shouldn't feel exquisite. She shouldn't

be enjoying weakness, she should be fighting for strength.
For control.

But oh, it was so good. Her hips pressed down, driving his
tongue deeper, feeling him
lick
. Sweet

mercy, his tongue was curling inside her, dragging over the
so-sensitive nerves there, and making her

pant, making her beg for release.

"Ian, I swear, I'm going to make you pay," she
cried, feeling perspiration coat her body as he shifted, his

tongue retreated, only to curl around her clit.

He played there. Sucking the little button into his mouth,
rolling it over his tongue, kissing it deep and hot.

He blew against it, he moaned against it, and then he
licked around it, next to it, close to it, but never

enough. Never enough.

"Please . . . oh please, Ian, don't let me lose
it." She was so close. So close she knew she was going to

lose it. That she was going to be pushed to the point that
it fizzled and left her with a violent ache that

couldn't be satisfied.

Not again. Oh God, she couldn't bear it if Ian did that to
her. If he brought her so close, only to push her

past the point where she could come at all.

Her body was weird. Her sexuality was weird. It would kill
her. She couldn't handle it.

"Ian, it's been years." She twisted in her bonds.
"Oh God, it's been so long. Please. Don't let me lose

this. I have to come. Please, Ian."

She was desperate. He kept licking around it, building it
higher. She could only go so high, then,
phfft
,
it

was just over. A violent ache that lasted for days and no
relief. She would kill. She swore she'd shoot

him with his own gun.

Then two fingers slid into her pussy. Not just slid in,
thrust in, filled her, fucked into her with deep, hard

strokes as his mouth covered her clit, sucking and licking,
right there
.

She screamed into the pillow. She bucked and jerked,
twisted and exploded with such force she swore

she felt her mind dissolve. It was exploding, melting, heat
was lashing at it and disintegrating it, as the

most deliriously violent orgasm of her life ripped through
her.

She was dying. She had never known why the French called it
the "little death" until now. She was dying.

Done in by the most exquisite orgasm in her sexual history,
or so she thought.

Before she managed to come down, before the first agonizing
shudders had finished with her, Ian,

diabolical lover that he was, pushed her higher.

He slid from beneath her, his fingers retreating. A second
later the iron-hard length of his cock was

tunneling inside the gripping, spasming muscles of her
pussy with hard, heavy thrusts.

Gripping the material of the curtains that bound her hands,
Kira pulled herself up, her muscles tightening

through her body as she tried to breathe. Just one good
breath as the first orgasm continued to tremble

through her body even as he lengthened it and built the
next.

The feel of his thick erection working inside her as his
hands gripped her hips, held her in place with

dominant force, was her undoing. She had never been a
submissive, either sexually or in life, but oh God,

she could definitely see the benefits at this moment.

"Ian . . ."

"I'm here, Kira." His voice was so rough,
guttural as he moved heavily behind her. "I have you, darlin'. I

won't let go."

One hand cupped a breast, his fingers working her nipple as
the other moved between her thighs,

playing her clit with just the right amount of pressure.

It was violently sensitive, but he knew how to touch, how
to stroke. Just as he knew how to fuck her.

He didn't go easy on her. He made pleasure and pain
combine, thrusting hard and deep inside her, flesh

slapping together, their moans mingling.

She couldn't bear this. Kira wasn't certain when she
realized the line she had just crossed, when she

realized that pleasure and emotion were comingling. She
knew she couldn't bear it. She knew it was too

much, too soon. She wasn't ready for this.

She tightened in his arms, fighting to pull back, to hold
on to that measure of control. She shifted, mind

and body, pulled on her training, on what she had become.
She would give him the illusion she gave

everyone else.

"Oh, no you don't." He bit her shoulder. Bit her.
Again. "Do you think it's that easy? That I'll let you

draw back now? By God, I won't take the Chameleon. I'll
have the woman."

"Please." She shook her head, her upper body
falling back to the bed, leaving her rear up, her pussy

open to him as he pounded inside her. "Ian. I'm . .
." She was what? Scared? Lost? "Please . . ."

"I have you, Kira." He came over her, his voice
thick now as the sensations began to build to

cataclysmic levels. She heard the restraint in him though,
and ached for it. Heard the regret that

shadowed the dominance she knew he was capable of
displaying. "I'm right here. Just come for me,

baby. Give it to me. Give it all to me."

She was helpless. Bound, both physically and mentally, and
she knew it. She was lost.

When the second orgasm came, she didn't bother fighting it.
She screamed, crashed, jerked in his arms,

and felt the muscles of her pussy clench violently on the
suddenly throbbing length of his cock.

He had thought to use a condom? At least he had a brain.
She could hear his release in his shattered

groan, in the jerky thrusts, the throb of his erection, but
she didn't feel the wetness of his semen.

For a wild moment, she regretted that. Wanted it. For one
impossible, insane moment, Kira wanted

things she knew she should have never considered. Had never
considered before in her life. She wanted

more than just the sex. And she wanted more than the
restraint that tightened his body despite his release.

She wanted all of him. She wanted to defy that hard-won
control that held him back, that kept a tight

rein on the obvious hungers he was denying himself. She
wanted to challenge him and feel him meeting

her head-on.

She wasn't a submissive, but a part of her was dying to
submit. To meet his dominance head-on, to push

at the boundaries he had set, and to weave herself as
firmly around his soul as she knew he was weaving

around hers.

Eight

IAN RELEASED KIRA SLOWLY FROMthe filmy lengths of material
that hung along the side of the

bed. The thin panel he had used bound her wrists, holding
her body in place for him, something he

doubted Kira had tried often.

He ran his hand along her back, clenched his teeth and
merely caressed the rounded globes of her rear

rather than watching them blush, hearing her scream as she
found more pleasure in an erotic spanking

than she could imagine, and feeling her come apart as she
found the threshold between that pleasure and

pain.

There were so many ways he wanted to touch her, fuck her.
So many things he could do to her body

that would leave her shaking, gasping his name, immersed in
a pleasure he knew she had never reached

before.

She was a strong woman, there was no doubt. But he knew her
strength and he knew the hungers that

even she didn't understand herself. And he knew that
sexual, independent creature inside her was dying

to defy the dominance he kept tightly leashed.

She was collapsed beneath him now, on her stomach, her head
buried in the pillow as she fought for

breath.

Ian straightened the filmy panels then rose and discarded
the condom he wore before stretching out

beside her in the bed.

A dumb move, he told himself as he pulled her into his arms
and held her against his chest. A really

dumb move, because she felt so right. She felt as though
she belonged against his chest and in his arms.

She fit him, and damn if that knowledge didn't rock his
soul all over again.

"We have reports that Sorrell is becoming irritated
with your defiance of him," she said as one hand

smoothed over his chest. "You're encouraging the
smaller cartels to defy him as well. He'll strike against

you soon."

"I'm not discussing Sorrell with you, Kira." Ian
stared at the ceiling through the diaphanous material that

stretched across the canopy frame above. "I'm not
discussing any of this with you."

"I'm here to help you, Ian." Irritation colored
her voice as she lifted her head to stare back at him. "I

have my own sources I can work. You're fighting a very
dangerous man. Don't throw away an

opportunity to gain any advantage you can."

"You being the advantage?" He let his hand smooth
over the fall of hair that caressed his chest now. Her

hair was softer than silk and warm enough to comfort a man
on a cold winter night.

"I'm a hell of an asset." There was no ego there,
it was simply the truth and Ian knew it. She was a hell of

an asset.

"This is my fight." And he didn't want her
anywhere close to the danger he knew was coming. "I'll take

care of Sorrell."

He would identify him, and if he couldn't kill him then he
would walk away and allow others to do it.

Either way, when the game was up, he didn't want Kira
anywhere close to the violence that would ensue.

"I want you on a plane out of here, this week,"
he told her then, meeting her gaze as he allowed the tips

of his fingers to caress the gentle curve of her cheek.
"Go back to the States and forget about this."

Her smile was a soft curve of sorrow. "Do you really
think I'm going to do that? I've found in the last

months that I would do a lot for you, Ian. But I won't do
that."

"That isn't your fight."

"I've made it my fight."

Where in the hell had she developed all this stubbornness?
She was the most intractable woman he had

ever met. She didn't argue, she didn't scream or yell. She
stated intentions and then followed through. He

knew that. Besides what he had learned of her in Atlanta,
his investigation into her had yielded the proof

of it.

"I won't come back here," he told her then.
"Tonight won't exist after dawn arrives, and it won't happen

again."

She shook her head, causing her hair to ripple over the
muscles of his chest and his taut abdomen.

"It may not. I hear you're a man of your word. But I'm
not leaving Aruba until I finish what I came to

do."

"Which is?" Frustration colored his voice.
"What the hell do you think you can accomplish here?"

"I can watch your back and gather the information you
need from the sources you can't access as the

Fuentes heir. That's my mission and I won't leave until
this is over. You can make my job easy, or you

can make it hard. It's your choice." She lowered her
head as she spoke, allowing her lips to caress his

shoulder, her fingers to knead the bunched muscles of his
biceps.

Ian continued to stare at the ceiling, frowning, trying to
distance himself from emotion and to use the only

weapons he had on hand for the perilous operation he was conducting.
He had the smallest team they

could put together; hell, it was so small he didn't have a
hope if the Fuentes soldiers didn't follow him

against Sorrell. That was his strength, the loyalty the
cartel possessed. It went beyond money, to familial