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She swallowed past the dry lump of apprehension in her throat
and focused on other features of his face. He had a thick layer of
stubble, not quite a beard. He couldn t have shaved in a week. His
complexion was evenly tanned, showing he spent time in the sun.
The shape of his nose, the set of his eyes, and the contour of his
cheekbones made him irresistibly handsome.
He jerked her arms higher, stretching her limbs, lifting her to
her toes.
She searched his gaze for a reason to stop her impulsive
behavior. This was a business trip. How would it be to have Mr.
Wolfe show up and find her pinned to the cabinets by his
handyman? What would that say of her character?
The hell with Mr. Wolfe. She didn t have time for him right
now. Passion and excitement reflected in J.R. s pupils, mirroring
everything she felt.
Apart from his initially gruff attitude, he d been kind to her,
rescuing her from the harsh outside elements and providing her
shelter and dry clothing. How did she resist the urge to repay his
kindness-- refrain from getting to know this sexy man intimately?
He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against hers. His breath
warmed her cheek as he dampened her face with kisses. He licked
and nipped her jaw, appealing to her wild nature, but she shied
away from the tickle to her skin. He gave a threatening growl and
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Brenda Williamson
nudged his body tighter to hers, wiping out any argument she tried
coming up with to stop him. She wanted him as she had never
wanted a man. His feral reaction had seduced her.
Take me, she murmured, ready to find out how deep his
assertiveness ran.
She felt him relax. He resumed pressing his lips to her skin,
sucking at her neck, nibbling her earlobe. From one side of her
face to the other, he licked her like a dog bathing her. At one point,
he paused. Did he feel odd about his animal-like behavior? She
didn t open her eyes, afraid of scaring him off.
Do you want more? She thought she heard him growl.
Yes, dashed from her lips in a breathless rush. She didn t want
the exhilaration to end.
The gentle glide of his tongue traced the whorl of her ear, and
all other thoughts disappeared. For minutes, he lavished her with
kisses. His mouth moved firmer against hers, and his body rubbed
hers faster, more insistently. When he stopped, she dared to open
her eyes.
He was looking up. She did too.
From the open crossbeams, dried herbs dangled from tied silk
ribbons. He let go of her wrist and reached up. She should have
lowered her arm, but to move meant to chance breaking the spell.
She watched him tug one ribbon, untying a cluster that fell to
the floor. The clean scent of lavender burst from the bouquet. She
stared at the other bundles. Had he collected them? They couldn t
be for cooking since his refrigerator was bare.
When J.R. looped and tied the ribbon around her wrist, he
jerked her thoughts from the idyllic illusion of everything going
smoothly in her business acquisition and her sexual encounter.
What are you doing? Her words rattled free.
With the yellow silk strip snug, he drew her arm to the side and
fastened the opposite end to the cabinet door knob. As much as
she enjoyed aggressively passionate sex in all positions, she d
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A Wicked Wolf
never been into real bondage.
I m not sure I like being restrained. She tipped her head back
and watched him retrieve another ribbon.
You will. He tied a blue strip of silk to her free wrist and
fastened it to another cabinet knob.
Now was the time to protest and fight the binds, or surrender.
He leaned against her, sniffing at her neck, then licking it. She felt
its throbbing vein pulsing rapidly against the stimulation. He had
more control than she normally allowed a guy. He caressed her
jaw with the back of his hand. Did she want him to stop? What
would she give up?
His stare into her eyes suggested she d miss out the hottest sex
of her life. The smoldering lust was more than she could resist.
There was no turning back no buckling under to convention. His
hypnotizing brown eyes had command over her, and she waited, a
captive audience.
His gaze didn t leave hers as he raised her shirt. She breathed
harder, feeling the light touch of his hands running up her sides
and over her breasts. He fingered her nipples, rolling them around
with his thumbs. They stiffened and ached from the repeated
pawing. Then he stopped and stroked her sides. Intense warmth
spread, prickling her skin. Goose bumps dotted her arms and
shoulders.
His quiet intensity fascinated her. With one hand controlling
her Tee shirt, his other took a more serious possession of her left
breast. He turned his hand over and brushed his knuckles against
the tip. Then grasping it between a finger and his thumb, he
pinched it. The fiery sting zinged her to her core.
A moan escaped her.
She closed her eyes and tipped her head back.
More, she begged, loving the way the pleasurable pain jarred
her nerves.
And yet he didn t give her what she wanted. Instead, he took his
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Brenda Williamson
hands away, and the soft cotton of the shirt she wore slid down
over her inflamed nipples.
He raised his arm and his fingers neared her face. She sensed
regret in his light touch to her jaw. Turning her cheek to his palm,
she pleaded with him to continue. Don t stop.
He looked at her strangely, as if what she asked was unusual
and daring. His eyes were flickering with other colors, reflections
from somewhere in the room kept her spellbound. There she
hung, bound to the cabinet doors, and all she wanted to think
about was could he make her want him more?
His other hand took a place on the opposite side of her neck. He
petted lightly over her pulse, beating beneath the skin. The slow
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