Wildstar

"Call me Garrett."

"I won't . . . you snake!"

"You don't seem very appreciative, my sweet ingrate. After I went to such trouble to rescue you, I expect at least a proper thank-you. Thank me properly, Jessica. . . ."

His hand entwined in her tousled mane. Dipping his dark head, he kissed her softly, barely, teasingly.

When he drew back slightly, Jess glared at him help­lessly. It infuriated her that he was enjoying having her at his mercy. In fact, he looked as if he relished it. "Devlin . . . don't . . ." she pleaded through gritted teeth.

"You don't want me to make love to you?" A half smile swaggered into one corner of his mouth as he smoothed one hand up the inside of her thigh. "You'll understand if I don't believe your protests." He bent to whisper seduc­tively in her ear. "You go wild every time I touch you. You turn into a tigress in bed. .

. ."

Even as he spoke, he moved his hand higher, beneath the hem of her chemise, along her hipbone to stroke the velvet of her bare belly. Every muscle in Jess's body tight­ened at his intimate caress. "D-Devlin . . . I swear . . . I'll hate you . . . for this."

"No, you won't." Withdrawing his hand, he began working loose the row of small buttons on her chemise. In only a moment her full creamy breasts spilled out to him.

His hot gaze lingered on the lush sight. "You have the loveliest breasts. . . ."

He probably said that to every woman he undressed, Jess thought with dazed fury.

As if he couldn't restrain himself, Devlin reached up to cup a pale globe, his palm molding the generous fullness. She closed her eyes, clenching her teeth against the erotic sensations his delicate touch aroused. "You . . . lecherous . . . beast "

He chuckled brazenly. "I think you like my lechery, sweeting." Purposefully, he put his lean forefinger into his mouth and wet it. Reaching out, he brushed her left nipple, drawing a slow circular pattern around the pink aureole. Jess gasped at the sharp pleasure that raced through her body.

"I think you like me touching you. And before I'm done with you, you're going to admit it." Each low sensuous word stroked her. "You need me, Jessica . . . and by the time I'm through with you, you're going to know you need me."

It should have startled her, the determination in his voice. He meant to prove his sexual prowess, his mastery over her. It should have shocked and disturbed her. He wasn't going to stop; he intended to make love to her in a squalid opium den, regardless of her wishes or the moral bankruptcy of preying on a helpless, captive female.

She gave one last frantic tug on the rope that bound her arms overhead. She was lying half-naked and completely vulnerable to him, yet the sense of being powerless was at the same time sensuously exciting.

"Just lie still, sweetheart," Devlin ordered softly, his eyes heated with desire.

The sultry look in his depthless gray gaze was a prom­ise of pleasure. The slow movement of his hand against her silky, shivering flesh was a foreshadowing of the care he meant to take with her.

Her full trembling breasts blossomed beneath his touch, at his gentle stroking. Jess could do nothing to prevent it. With a knowing smile, Devlin bent to her mouth, giving her light, provocative, indulgent kisses that drew the breath from her body, while his fingers played over her breasts. His arousing hand roamed at will, leaving a trail of delicate flame wherever he touched her. The nipples of her breasts were now tingling points of sensation.

Leaving them, he worked leisurely downward, over her tight, flat belly, the curve of her hip, her woman's mound.

"Devlin . . ." Jess wanted to move away from him, from his brazen caresses, but against her will, she wound up straining her hips helplessly toward him, wishing he would ease the sudden powerful ache that was throbbing between her thighs.

"Hush, sweetheart, I know what you want."

And it seemed that he did. His dexterous fingers seemed to know just where the most sensitive spots on her body were. Jess's breath faltered as his fingers teased between her legs. Devlin smiled a little at the heated moisture that was there to greet him, a smile which deepened when he caught the look she was giving him. Her amber eyes were filled with a sensual, reluctant pleasure that told him, more than words, the seductive effect he was having on her.

His skillful fingers continued toying with her . . . slowly, erotically . . . until her breath grew heavy and her legs parted of their own accord. Jess tilted her head back in surrender. Her pride was gone, seared away by the heat of his caresses.

His thumb brushed aside the folds of her drawers to touch the core of her need, to ply it to heated wanting, while he watched the passion play on her beautiful face. Her hips began to lift and then fall, repeatedly, the rhythm imploring—which he allowed for a time. Then, with gentle deliberation, he sheathed his fingers in her pulsing warmth.

Jess let out a soft keening moan that turned Devlin's blood hot.

Ruthlessly he stroked her until she thrashed and whim­pered, until with shuddering spasms, the first shattering re­lease swept through her, brutal and scalding in its intensity.

Devlin's eyes gleamed with male satisfaction as he bent to kiss the corner of her mouth. Jess lay there shaken and spent, hardly aware what he was doing.

"Don't fall asleep on me, angel. We aren't nearly fin­ished."

Startled, she looked up to see the lazy fire in his eyes as he moved over over her and knelt between her legs.