Unshackle (Deliver 7)

The sensation couldn’t have been produced by his mouth. She twisted her neck to see behind her, and holy fuck. His firm lips were right there, his kiss gliding up her backbone.

From the moment he’d flipped her to her stomach, she hadn’t anticipated anything remotely pleasurable nor half as sensual as the swirling possession of his hands and tongue.

Fear was always a glaring partner when she was alone with the brothers. But never arousal. Never this.

This destructively alluring man made her want more than a hurry-up-and-finish encounter. She wanted hours of him doing this. Touching, kissing, hungering… She didn’t want him to stop.

What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t accept this. Not from a slave-buying rapist.

“Stop that.” She tried to jerk free. “Don’t touch me.”

His teeth clamped down, holding her in place as effectively as his intimidating gaze.

With her chin to her shoulder, she stared back, scrambling to find footing in the stellar depths of his eyes. “Quit toying with me, and just do what you’re going to do.”

He licked her bitten skin defiantly. “I’m responsible for the care and feeding of my woman.”

“I’m not your woman, and unless I’m mistaken, you’re feeding yourself.”

“You’re mine for a week, and tonight, I eat first.”

He trailed his lips toward the curves of her ass, just as seductively as before, staring down at her nudity with those long thick lashes fanning over his cheeks. Then he glanced up, delivered another diabolical sweep of his tongue, and looked pointedly at Tomas.

His bodyguard nodded and paced off toward the door. When he opened it, he didn’t leave and instead took up a watchful position on the threshold.

What was happening?

John returned to his torture, sucking, tonguing, and nipping her backside. The delicious incursion pulled her insides this way and that. She thrashed beneath his greedy mouth, gasping at the overload of stimulation.

No one had ever taken time to warm up her body. It had been so long since she’d experienced anything akin to foreplay she’d forgotten it was even a thing people did.

The worst part? She was enjoying it. Allowing it to happen. Imagining other parts of her that would tingle and heat beneath his lips. Would he find her as hot and wet, as lush and needy as his wicked mouth?

Not possible. She didn’t get wet. Not anymore.

His affection was so fucking wrong it was cruel.

With renewed clarity, she met his gaze. He rolled his tongue, and her stomach seized up.

“Enough!” She exploded out of her skin.

Twisting to her back, she let her fist fly. Missed his face by an inch. Swung a left hook. Missed that one, too. Fuck!

“You’re off-balance, Gina.” He wrapped a hand around her neck and easily immobilized her.

“Release me!” She writhed on her back, kicking uselessly as he settled between her legs.

The pressure on her throat tightened. Dots blurred her vision, and she clawed frantically at his arms, his hands.

“You’re only hurting yourself.” He loosened his grip just enough to allow breath. “Surrender.”

“Never!” She coughed, gulping for air.

“Easy. I promise you’ll enjoy this. You might even thank me.”

“I’ll blow the devil in hell before I thank you for anything!”

“I am the devil, and while your offer is tempting, I don’t want your mouth.” He released her throat. “Unless, of course, you use it to scream.”

“I hate you.”

The look he gave her was arched and dismissing. His attention lowered to his shirt, his fingers opening the buttons. Then it was off, and her heart stuck somewhere between one breath and the next.

He bent over her, his torso as arresting as his face, strong and powerful, enough to cause serious ruination to her mental health.

Every nerve in her body thrummed as he lowered his mouth to her breast, the harsh lines of his face unsoftened by the tenderness in his kiss.

She tried to push herself upright only to be shoved down by his forearm, the flex of muscle bulging against her throat. He radiated such an intense fusion of beauty and menace it sucked her breath. But that didn’t stop her from sinking beneath the tangled warmth that spiraled from the tongue against her nipple.

His lips moved from one breast to the other, kissing and suckling until she burned beneath the quickening rush of his exhales. Hot mouth. Expert tongue. He licked her in a way she’d never dreamed.

From neck to hips, he dealt relentless strokes, slowly, steadily, inch after inch down her body. Her fingers caught his hair, pushing, pulling, knuckled against his scalp.

When had she started trembling? Jesus, she’d lost count of how many times she’d gulped down a moan.

“It’s too much.” Another gulp lodged in the back of her throat. “Stop!”

Kneeling between her legs, he straightened and stared down at her, eyes glinting with cold sparks of lightning. Then he lifted her knees and forced them to her shoulders, spreading her wide for his gaze.