Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

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Chapter Six

A suffocating sensation lodged under Erin’s breastbone; she was unable to speak. At her silence, Max’s brows came together in a formidable frown as he pushed off the desk and took the steps that brought him in front of her. Her breath caught as he snatched her wrist and locked his fingers around it. “Do you understand?”

Dizziness assailed her as his scent enveloped her; her tongue darted out and slipped across dry lips as she began nodding her head. She didn’t like her fear, but suddenly she appreciated the danger of the situation she was in and knew she needed to be more careful in her responses. “I understand,” she mumbled.

He stared down into her eyes for a moment and then the hand that held her wrist tightened into a band of steel as he began pulling her farther inside the room. He pressed something under his desk and she heard the sound of a latch releasing. A paneled door behind his desk popped open as if by magic and he led her inside a small room that she hadn’t even realized was there—and then he kicked the door shut behind them.

Erin had no time to glance around as he twirled her until her knees and butt landed against something solid. She realized it was a sofa—the back of a sofa—her heart began to thud as she took rapid breaths. Forcing his legs between hers, Max released her wrist and planted his hands on either side of her, his chest pressing against hers. He tipped her chin up with one finger as she tried valiantly to control her intake of oxygen as her neck was tilted to an almost uncomfortable angle.

His lips firmed; not a bit of pleasantness showed on his face. “So I ask you again, Erin. Are you my wife?”

Now too apprehensive to answer any other way, she closed her eyes for a single second before opening them. “Yes.”

He released her chin as he lowered his mouth, enclosing her lips in a kiss that left her no room to think, no room to be afraid, no room to deny him. He tasted her fully as he encompassed her breast. His thumb ran across the tip and lightning speared through her. His other hand cupped the back of her head, controlling her fully as he took a kiss that left her completely shattered.

His head lifted and her lids snapped open. She found him staring into her eyes as he caressed her nipple. He took one stroke, two strokes—and then his fingers clamped around her breast in utter possession. “Yes, you’re my wife—and I find that I like that more than I’d ever imagined.” His lips flattened as he altered his stance to come just that much closer. “Tell me that you understand who makes the rules in our marriage, Erin. Tell me now.”

She didn’t hesitate. “You do.”

“Tell me you understand that what I do, I do to protect you.”

Her pulse raced as she stared back at him. “I—I understand.”

His eyes glinted as if taking her measure. “Very good. This is rough country, love. I need to know that when I issue an order, you’ll obey that order unstintingly. Your life may depend on it—understand?”

She nodded her head.

His hand left her breast with a caress as the back of his knuckles trailed up her neck. Staring into her eyes, his touch moved to her throat—and stayed there. He opened his mouth and his voice dropped an octave, becoming drenched in heat. “I told you yesterday that I would do everything within my power to make you happy, didn’t I?”

Her heart began beating to a ferocious time as his tone changed; she nodded her head once again.

At her agreement, Max trailed his finger upward and swiped it over her lower lip, back and forth, and Erin once again had a feeling that he almost couldn’t stop himself from touching her so intimately.

“Come,” he said gruffly. He led her around to the far wall and released her, making sure she was balanced on her own two feet.

She took the opportunity to glance around. The single sofa was the only seating in the hidden room; a coffee table sat in front with matching side tables that held gilded lamps. The lighting was subdued and the walls of the room were decorated in artwork—and Erin knew she was looking at the real thing. She gasped when she recognized a Monet, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as Max stepped into her personal space once again. “Are you good with numbers, amor?”

Numbers? Her pulse escalating, she shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose.”

“Seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three,” he bit out harshly, firing the numbers at her.

Erin stared at him blankly—she had no clue to his meaning. “I’m sorry?”

“Repeat and memorize: seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three.”

She felt mesmerized as his eyes held hers. “Seventy-five—nineteen—sixty-three,” she parroted.