Rule's Obsession (The House of Rule 1)

She was on automatic pilot as she followed him up the stairs.

He strode down a corridor, flung a door open and led her inside what was obviously his bedroom. She saw massive furnishings and a sitting room off to the left, but that was all the time he gave her before dragging her over to the bed. He backed down until he was sitting, and spreading his thighs wide, he pulled her between them with little fanfare. Leaving no question of his purpose, he pulled his shirt over his head and sent it falling to the floor.

Feeling bereft of control, Angie gasped as she took in his jacked physique. His biceps were like iron, his chest lined with muscles so tightly laced they showed no give. The tendons of his neck were corded and displayed a pulse working heavily as the blood beat through his veins. Her world spun and careened on its axis as he sank one arm around her waist and pulled her head down with the other, until her lips were almost touching his. His eyes were still open and he paused before proceeding. "It's going to be good." His eyes reflected a harsh, almost demonic light, but his words were sensuous, as if telling her a secret that he knew to be true.

She felt a jolt to her system and with her pulse skittering alarmingly, she responded the only way she knew how, which was nothing less than the truth. "I know."

His hand locked against her spine, drawing her torso slowly, inexorably toward his. Her breasts landed against the hard planes of his chest, and a shudder that she couldn't suppress passed through her.

A tangible, magnetic bond flowed between them as his hand caressed the contours of her back. Her reaction to his touch was swift, almost violent and he watched her steadily, making no attempt to hide the fact. She was very aware of his assessment; she felt her pulse pounding from her fingertips to her toes.

His hands caressed down and locked onto her hips, his fingers biting into her flesh. She inhaled sharply at the possessive contact. Her fingers ached to run all over him, but she attempted to wait until her pounding pulse subsided somewhat and she could attain a level of control. As shivers of attraction raced through her system, she vaguely realized that his breathing was becoming affected. He pulled oxygen in and out of his lungs in a harsh rhythm, and she could see his chest lifting and falling with the effort.

His lips fell to the side of her face, and she felt the heady sensation of his kiss slide from her cheekbone to her ear. A delicious sensation arced down her spine and robbed her of any thought capacity she may have had left. Her world became sensory; all she felt was a drugging sensation as he seared a path down her neck to her shoulders.

Her hands fell to his biceps, and the hard, tactile strength under her fingertips was such a contrast to her own body that her knees weakened. She ached for his kiss on her mouth, but the ecstasy wrought by his attention elsewhere wouldn't allow her to divert him from his direction.

He brought her more tightly into the circle of his embrace by locking his legs around her, and as if knowing she couldn't escape, only then released her hips and brought his hands between them. He began releasing the buttons on her shirt, swiftly and with feverish intent. His gaze was a hundred percent focused on what lay beneath the cloth and a noticeable tic began to pulse in his cheek.

As he pushed open the panels of her blouse and the white curves of her breasts peaked through the lace of her bra, she felt the reflexive jerk of his shoulders under her palms. He breathed deeply, and pushed the shirt off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. His chest rose with his intake of oxygen and his voice came out in a low growl, "I'm trying like fuck to go slow." His eyes lifted to hers and Angie was hit by such a reflection of tortured impatience that it left her almost bewildered. He pulled in a deep breath and continued, "But I'm about to lose it and it's going to go fast."

His hands gripped her shoulders as he waited for an answer and Angie tried to get her short-circuited brain to function, but all she could do was nod her head.

At her agreement, his palms sank around her breasts and squeezed, his fingers unsnapping the center clasp of her bra, releasing her flesh from constraint. He began flicking his thumbs across her nipples in a twin assault, and in a last moment of sanity, Angie asked him, "You've got protection?"

His hands momentarily stilled and his eyes lifted and crashed with hers. "Birth control?"