Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

He swore viciously, causing her to flinch again.

“No, it’s obvious you don’t see it,” he said in a grim voice. “You don’t see your own goddamn appeal, and that makes you even more attractive to men.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better,” she said softly. “It’s kind of you, but the truth is always better. I prefer to keep it real. I know what I am and what I’m not. I accept that.”

Before she could process what the ever-loving hell he was doing, he pulled her roughly into his arms so she landed with a soft thud against his chest. He tilted her chin up, his hand nearly covering half her face it was so large, and then he crushed his mouth to hers, devouring her lips as though he were starving.

It was the equivalent of being struck by lightning. Every nerve ending in her body promptly jolted, and she gasped, opening her mouth to his advancing tongue. He probed delicately, with patience that contradicted his impatient, seemingly angry movements.

She let out a delicious sigh because that mouth. Oh God, but she’d been so right about his mouth and lips, but now that she’d experienced his tongue, suddenly her attention wasn’t quite as focused on his lips.

He tasted—and smelled—divine. Hot, alpha, badass male. Arrogant. Confident. And so yummy looking she couldn’t fathom that she was standing in his office while he was thoroughly kissing her in a way she’d never been kissed before.

And she’d only known him for all of five minutes!

She put her hands up to his chest, her intent to ward him off, but as soon as her palms made contact with the muscled wall, they stopped and simply absorbed his heat as she leaned further into his kiss with a soft sigh of surrender.

• • •

Drake had heard all the not-good-enough, not-beautiful, don’t-belong bullshit he was going to put up with for the night. Evangeline, Angel. Yes, her name suited her to perfection. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire goddamn club, and here she stood spouting shit that she truly believed. And in no way was he going to be able to change her mind with just a few words, so he did what he’d been dying to do ever since he’d seen her walk through the door of the front bar.

He hauled her against his body so she landed against his chest, the plush softness of her breasts searing his flesh even through two layers of clothing—his and hers. Then he crashed his mouth down on hers and feasted like a man long deprived of such beauty.

His lips lightened and he licked delicately over the full plump bottom lip, nipping lightly with his teeth, a request for her to open her sweet mouth so he could get inside where it was even sweeter.

With a stuttered gasp, she complied, though he wasn’t sure if she’d actually made the cognizant decision to allow his tongue access or whether she was merely starving for air, since she hadn’t taken a single breath since his mouth had crashed down on hers. But he wasn’t waiting around to find out.

He thrust his tongue inward, nearly groaning aloud as she tentatively met his thrust with just the tip of her tongue. A brush so soft, it was like a butterfly’s wings.

God, if her mouth tasted this sweet, he could only imagine how sweet her pussy would taste. And he had a sudden urgency to find out.

He wrapped his arms around her, hauling her body into his until there was no space between them, until her softness melted into his much harder frame and molded to his. He could feel her breasts, even the turgid points of her nipples through what had to be a sheer, lacy bra for all the protection it offered. For that matter, she likely wasn’t wearing one since the dress didn’t allow much in the way of the inner trappings.

Just the thought of there being nothing between him and those beautiful breasts, those nipples thrusting against his chest, except the sheer dress she wore had his dick roaring to life and surging against his pants like a randy teenager making it with his girlfriend for the first time.

Mindful of his desire to taste her feminine nectar, he reached down and swept her into his arms, ignoring her sudden cry of alarm. She didn’t fight him. If she had, he would have offered her reassurance that he damn sure wasn’t going to hurt her. She merely lay rigid in his arms, her breaths coming in sporadic bursts, her cheeks a delectable shade of pink.

She was flush with arousal and he enjoyed savage satisfaction over the fact that she wanted him. Fucking a snowdrift? Her ex had to be out of his fucking mind. Drake didn’t need to be balls deep inside her to know she’d have him going up in flames. He was about to come in his pants and he hadn’t even gotten her on his desk or her dress up to her waist.