His Dark Bond by Marsh Anne

Author:Marsh, Anne
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780758277831
Publisher: Kensington

Zer slammed the button to start the elevator again.

Those too-innocent doe eyes of hers stared at him, dissecting him like an unfamiliar living specimen. Did she like what she saw? It didn’t matter. He was way past redemption and even more beyond all that touchy-feely, come-into-the-light-my-son bullshit. When Michael had kicked his ass out of the Heavens, he’d thrown away the key, and Zer didn’t give a damn. He’d stand on his own two feet.

“Don’t push me,” he growled. “In twelve floors, you’re rid of me. Until then, you’re all mine, baby.” Hell, yeah.

“Oh, no, I’m not,” she taunted.

He was going to take this one last opportunity to touch her before he handed her over. Bracing her against the wall, he planted his hands on either side of her face. His stance was dominating. Hard. He had twelve floors, and he was going to use them.

He didn’t taste her mouth at first. Instead, he traced a hot, damp path over her skin with his tongue, exploring the curve of her ear like a Tartar lord exploring the virgin expanse of the Russian steppes before he unleashed a flood of ruthless warriors. He gave the trembling flesh a hot lick.

His wicked tongue stroked, penetrated. He knew she’d want to tell him no, that she’d know five good reasons she should, but he also knew she’d been alone a long time, and he’d been created for this. So damned good. He could feel her body softening for him, welcoming his seduction.

His teeth nipping at her earlobe brought a moan to her lips.

“You like that,” he said with masculine satisfaction. “The pleasure—or the pain, baby?”

He curled his hands against hers, pinning her in place.

Parted her thighs with a leather-clad thigh, sliding home between them and sheathing himself there in raw simulation of the sex act. The intimate sound of her skirt sliding upward, the whisper of lace and silk as she parted for him, filled the heated silence of the elevator. God. She wanted him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, but he had to have her. Just for a few minutes. Then he’d let her go.

She melted into him, and he brought his mouth down on hers, his tongue stroking along the closed seam of her lips. Sweeping in. Conqueror. Just like a hundred kisses before. Practiced. Nothing could have prepared him for the hot, sweet taste of the female in his arms, the unique scent of her. She was different.

Her mouth opened deeper beneath his. She took a breath.

No. No protests. Not yet, not when he had to stop in just a minute. Wrapping both her small hands in one of his, he let his other hand trace a slow, deliberate path down her body. She was all liquid heat in his arms. Tenth floor, his brain dimly registered. They were on the tenth floor. He still had time.

“Zer,” she whispered into his mouth. No protest. Just sweet, hot welcome.

“Don’t think,” he urged, lifting his mouth from hers. “Just feel.

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