Robyn Donald - The Devil's Bargain by Anja

Author:Anja
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-05-07T17:55:08+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

As HOPE’S hands tightened onto his shoulders she gasped, ‘Your shirt’s wet...’

‘To hell with my shirt,’ Keir growled over the rumble of the rain, and found her mouth again.

This time she surrendered, opening to him, forgetting everything but the insistent drumming of need inside her, the vehement craving to take and give.

When his head lifted again she could no longer think. Yet he said harshly, ‘Is this what you want, Hope? All of me, everything? Because if it isn’t, we’d better stop now.’

Stop? How could he even think of banking this honeyed flame of desire? Not again, she thought fiercely, all doubts finally banished in an agony of need.

Lifting her hand, she traced the sculptured outline of his mouth. Beneath her fingertip she felt it shape a kiss; her shiver exploded into inner conflagration when he took the tip of her finger into his mouth and bit it gently.

Sensation scorched through her, kindling a needfire so violent it burned away the last rational promptings of her brain. If only she’d had some experience—

but even that thought died, for she was glad she’d never felt like this before, never wanted like this.

Only Keir, and Keir was all her world...

‘You’re wet,’ she said, her voice husky. ‘Take off your shirt and I’ll put it in the drier.’

‘You take it off,’ he said, narrowed eyes gleaming in his set face. He stepped back and held out his arms, challenging her in the most stark, basic way of all—the primitive sexual challenge of man to woman.

Take what you want, his tone, his expression said. If you dare...

For a frozen second they stared at each other, eyes fencing across the space between them.

Then, clamping down on her leaping excitement, Hope lifted a deliberate hand. To the heavy thud of her heartbeats she leaned forward and began to undo the small buttons. Her fingers tingled, yearned for the sleek skin beneath, but she took her time, letting the dampness and texture and elusive male scent build her arousal. The quick rise and fall of his chest told her that her touch was having an equally potent effect on Keir.

‘There,’ she said quietly when she’d freed the last button.

‘Thank you.’ The words rasped, and he shrugged out of the garment, his wide shoulders gleaming with overt power in the subdued light.

Dry-mouthed with tension, Hope took the shirt into the minuscule bathroom and put it in the drier. She’d straightened up when another jagged slash of lightning ripped the sky apart, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder that vibrated all around and through her.

Keir crossed the room in two silent strides, pulling her into the dangerous haven of his arms. The heat of his body enfolded her in a cocoon of primal reassurance as he said into her hair, ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, Hope. You’ll be safe.’

He wasn’t speaking about the storm. His tantalising maleness—forceful strength, fine-grained, hair-textured skin—bypassed her conscious brain, activating a hidden female knowledge handed down through the generations.

Into the

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