“You’re mistaken. And if I hadn’t been caught red-handed by you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.” Her haughty tone challenged him.
“If you truly believe that, then you’re the one who’s mistaken,” he said quietly. “And perhaps it’s time I showed you why.”
“Good lord. Tonight?” Her cool demeanor gone, she met his gaze with an anxious look.
Damn it, she looked as though she thought he would eat her. The thought of doing just that was a fleeting one, and he released a quiet breath of frustration. The woman was a conundrum. He should abandon the wager entirely, but something inside him refused to let her go. The woman tempted him in ways he’d yet to understand. It was an uncomfortable sensation for him. With the last note of the music, he swung her off the dance floor. Uncertainty paled her face, and with a quick move, she left his arms. He let her go. Hazel eyes wide in her oval face, she stared up at him with apprehension in her gaze, but a hint of excitement shimmered there too.
In silence, he studied her for a long moment before making up his mind. Whatever fear kept her enshrined in that cloak of virtue, he intended to strip it away. That tiny glimmer of anticipation in her gaze was all the invitation he needed. He might not bed her tonight, but he was damn well going to give her a taste of what to expect. Igniting her desire might even take the painful edge off his lust. Besides, the thought of hearing her plead for more was a pleasurable one.
Music swelled around them again as he caught her by the arm and guided her toward the warehouse door. With little effort, he guided her out into the night with only one or two employees taking notice. Everyone else was too busy enjoying the party to concern themselves with the actions of their employer. The crisp spring air nipped at his skin as Julia suddenly regained her voice.
“What do you think you’re doing, St. Claire.”
“Taking you to a place where we’ll not be interrupted.” He tightened his grip on her as she almost managed to slip away from him.
Crossing the street, he reached awkwardly into his vest pocket for his office key. The cool metal warmed in his hand as they stopped in front of his shipping offices. The door opened and he forced her through it.
“We should return to the party. Everyone is going to notice that we’ve left.”
“Let them.”
Moonlight drifted through the glass windows of the main office, enough to light the way to the door that opened up into his personal domain. The door gave way with a loud crack, and his body absorbed the tense jerk she made at the sound. Inside the spacious room, he ushered her to the chair in front of his desk and forced her sit down.
In quick succession, he locked the door, drew the window shade and turned up the gas light sconce on the wall. Turning around to face her, he narrowed his eyes. She had defied him by rising from her chair. She stood with her back to his desk and wore a prim and proper expression as she glared at him. Defiance in a woman was something he wasn’t used too. Another challenge. He would enjoy turning that look into one of desire.
“I do not appreciate your high-handed behavior St. Claire. I have a distinct dislike for surprises.” She glared at him, Even though her lips were tight with anger, they invited him to kiss away her annoyance.
“Unbutton your dress, Julia.”
“
What
?” Aghast, she stared at him with her mouth half open.
Folding his arms across his chest, he arched an eyebrow. “Shall I do it for you?”
The fury in her gaze made him smile as she tossed her head angrily. Expelling a noise of disgusted fury, her fingers flew to the neck of her dress and she quickly undid the buttons down to the base of her throat. Defiance glittered in her eyes as she tilted her head and dared him to do his worst. She was radiant and fiery in her anger.
God help him when she exploded with passion in his arms. His groin tightened at the image and he moved toward her. There was only a trace of trepidation in her face as she gamely stood her ground. When less than a foot separated them, he reached out and trailed his finger from the side of her neck to the base of her throat. She trembled at the touch. A surge of desire blasted through him swelling his cock. Feeling hot and needy, he looked deep into her eyes.
“Your skin is soft as silk, my sweet.”
“What game are you playing, St. Claire? This is not part of the wager. You said one night in your bed.” There was a breathless quality to her voice, and it shot an arrow of excitement through him.
“The wager was that I wanted the woman in the portrait in my bed. And I’ll do whatever it takes to pull her out from under that prim and proper façade you wear.”
“I’ve told you before—the woman you saw doesn’t exist. She’s a figment of Peebles’s imagination.”
Not answering her, he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Her eyes widened as she watched him with stunned fascination. She dampened her lips again, and the enticing sight made his cock jump to attention with a sharp tug. His fingers found the last button and with a shrug of his shoulders, he removed his shirt then tossed it onto his desk.
“I want you to touch me.”
“
Touch
you?”
“Yes. Touch me.”
“I most certainly will not.” She tried to slip past him, but he blocked her escape. He blew out a harsh breath as he lifted her hand and rested it against his chest.
The palm of her hand was hot against his skin, and his body tensed with desire. Christ, the woman only had to touch him and his cock was aching for release. Suppressing his need, he met her gaze as she stared up at him in bewilderment.
“Why can’t you just take your winnings and leave me be?” The plea in her voice was unmistakable.
“Stop talking and just touch me,” he growled as he struggled to keep from tugging her into his arms and kissing her into submission.
§ § §
Hesitating, she could only stare at his chest. A fraction of a second later he caught her other hand and pressed it against his flesh. Fire heated her skin, and she shuddered. She wasn’t ready for this assault on her senses. Desire, mixed with fear, skimmed through her veins. The conflicting emotions made her tremble as he gently forced her hands to explore him.
She remembered how he’d touched her yesterday. The intimacy of his caresses had set her on fire. More than that, his touch had broken down one of her barriers. It had created a longing inside her for something more. The same need was spiraling through her again. She swallowed hard, trying to fight the desire curling inside her belly.
Beneath her fingertips, the hard line of his chest was hot, flexible steel. A tremor sailed through her, but she didn’t resist as he continued to make her trace the hard line of his muscular chest. Only in her innermost thoughts had she wondered what it would be like to touch him like this.
A thin line of hair trailed its way from the middle of his chest downward until it disappeared into his trousers. Just touching him was a heady experience, but it was the unexpected sight of his arousal that made her inhale a sharp breath of surprise. Her gaze jerked upward to meet the dark heat of his eyes.
Beneath her fingers, his chest rose and fell with a steady, but quick, rhythm. Lowering her gaze, she stared at the sight of her hands splayed across his bare chest. She should be outraged by his actions tonight, but she wasn’t. The need that had been building inside her made her head swim with wicked thoughts and sinful images.
Without thinking, she leaned into him and pressed her mouth against his bare skin. He tasted warm with a hint of woody spice. Above her head, she heard him suck in a sharp breath. In an abrupt move, he grabbed her at the waist and sat her up on his desk. Startled, she stared up at him.
The dangerous glint in his blue eyes sent a shiver of delicious expectation across her skin. He leaned into her until his mouth was just a hair’s breadth from hers. The faintest trace of whiskey feathered its way past her nostrils. It blended with his scent to tantalize her senses as she realized how badly she wanted to lose her self-control with him.
“That’s a start,” he whispered. “But I intend to make you hotter. So hot that you’re going to think you were on fire.”
His mouth slanted over hers in a deep kiss. It assailed every one of her senses and heat spread through her limbs as his tongue swept into her mouth. In the pit of her belly, familiar sensations stirred. They hardened her nipples. Her breasts swelled and pushed against her corset with an exquisite pain.
Beneath her hands, the hard muscles of his chest flexed as she caressed and explored him of her own accord. His body was like supple metal beneath her hands. Sweet heaven, but she wanted more. She wanted to feel his hands on her again. Touching her the way she was touching him. Touching her intimately.
As if reading her mind, his hands lifted her gown and underskirt up to her waist. In the next beat of her heart, he tugged her drawers down to her ankles. The action effectively exposed her and imprisoned her in the same instant. Shocked by the decadent emotion spiraling through her, she squirmed against the desk and tried to push her dress down while reaching for her drawers. Morgan’s hand pushed hers aside as he looked up at her with a wicked smile. “Lay back, Julia.”
“
What
?”
“Lay back.” His finger found the outer rim of her sex and lightly brushed over it.
“Oh God.”
Her whimper broke past her lips as her body melted. Slowly, she found herself reclining back against the unyielding desktop. He towered over her, an expression of raw desire on his face. In a move that surprised her, he spread her legs apart until she was completely exposed to his view.
His eyes darkened as he studied her. “We talked about fantasies yesterday, my sweet, and I’ve had several about you. Now, I intend to experience one.”
She tensed as his hands stroked her inner thighs and moved toward her curls. She wanted his touch. Needed to feel his fingers stroking her, pleasuring her. A small moan of delight escaped her. Her gaze met his and he smiled.
“Let me tell you about one particular fantasy, sweetheart.”
The thought of how his words could ignite an unquenchable thirst for his touch made her nod helplessly. She licked her dry lips and his smile dissolved into an expression of dark need.
“In my fantasy, I get to dip my tongue into your hot cream. I lick every bit of it off these soft folds of yours.”
“Oh dear lord.” She could only stare at him in shock as he knelt between her legs. His gaze did not leave hers.
“I’m going to enjoy licking and sucking on you until your thick cream coats my tongue.”
Speechless, she watched him lower his head and the sudden fire of his tongue swirling around the rim of her sex tugged a cry of wild delight from her. She tensed at the pleasure filling her belly. An instant later, his tongue stroked along her inner folds, and she melted beneath the temptations of his sinful mouth and the hot strokes of his tongue.
The wickedness of it was exhilarating, enthralling. Need cascaded its way over her skin. It tensed her muscles until it created an ache she could not put into words. Her body seemed completely out of control, willing to do his bidding with the slightest touch. But she was beyond caring. Beyond anything but the wild sensations quivering through her body.
“Jesus, you taste good.” His voice was husky with passion. “You’re dripping with hot honey.”
His tongue pressed into her slick folds once more. Gently, he nibbled on her sensitive nub of flesh and she uttered a low cry of intense pleasure. She’d never been this aroused before. Was this what sex was really supposed to be like? She wanted to explode. Pressure etched its way down to where his tongue was licking and sucking on her so intimately.
“Oh God, please,” she puffed in short breaths. “Please, Morgan.”
“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re on fire now. You’re hot and aching to explode.”
“Oh…yesss.” She shuddered as he stroked her deeply with his tongue. Her muscles clenched at the intimate contact. Never had she experienced anything so erotically satisfying.
He controlled her every thought, her every reaction, but she didn’t care. If giving up control could give this much pleasure it was worth the price of making herself vulnerable for this short period of time. Her body was his to command, and the pressure building inside her exploded in a splinter of tiny shards of sinful delight. With a thrust of her hips, she arched upward and released a cry of exhilaration.
“Oh God, yes!”
A second later, she shattered beneath his touch. Oblivious to anything but the heat coating her body, she barely registered the fact that Morgan had picked her up in his arms. It wasn’t until he sat down in his chair with her in his lap that she realized she was no longer on his desk.
Through the thin layers of her clothes, his hard length pressed against her thigh. Startled, she realized he was still aroused and yet his only thought seemed centered around her pleasure. The knowledge stunned her. Never in her married life had she ever been shown such sensitive consideration. It was a clear intent to put her pleasure first.
She swallowed hard at the unexpected emotion his actions evoked inside her. If Morgan continued to seduce her so patiently, there would be no hope of resisting him. The man already held too much sway over her. With a glance up into his eyes, she grew stiff with tension.
Satisfaction glittered in his gaze. He believed he had won. Well, hadn’t he? For all intents and purposes, she was a St. Claire woman. He’d branded her in the most intimate way just a moment ago. And while he had pleasured her beyond her wildest imaginings, their association was becoming far too dangerous.
She could not allow it to continue. Never again would she submit to any man’s control. Once had been enough, and where Morgan St. Claire was concerned, control was everything. He lived and breathed control.
Even their wager had been an issue of control for him. He’d seen to it that she would lose and he’d have his way. Any involvement with him could mean only one thing. She would be his to command and at his disposal until he chose to cast her aside with only a handkerchief as a memento of their association.