Ravensdale's Defiant Captive

‘Could’ve fooled me.’

He pressed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip, holding it there for a moment before lifting it away. But still he didn’t move away from her. His body was toe to toe with hers. If she leaned forward a fraction, their thighs would touch. The temptation to do so was like an invisible hand pushing her from behind. She brushed against the unmistakable hardness of him. Felt the shock through her flesh like a powerful current. It shot through her body in an arc of erotic energy that left no part of her unaffected. She saw the way his pupils flared, his eyes darkening, pulsing and glinting with want.

‘You want me so bad I bet all it would take is one little kitten-lick of my tongue to send you over the edge,’ Holly said, shocking herself at her wanton goading of him. Why was she being so utterly brazen? He had the edge on her here. He had already told her he would evict her from the programme. That had been his intention when he’d come down to speak to her. She would be sent to prison. She had no second chances. If she pushed him too far, he would get rid of her. Wasn’t that what everyone did to her? She knew what was at risk but even so she couldn’t stop herself. She was driven by the urges of her body—her traitorous body—which seemed to have developed an agenda of its own.

Julius sent a fingertip from the top of her cleavage, down the length of her sternum, over her quivering belly and then down to the zip of her jeans. He outlined the seam of her body through the denim and metal teeth of her zip, all the while holding her gaze with the smouldering blaze of his own. ‘I bet I could make you come first,’ he said in a two-parts gravel, one-part honey tone.

Holly almost came on the spot. She felt the flickering of her nerve endings, the swelling of her body as it ached and throbbed for more stimulation. She had to get away from him before he won this. He had far more self-control than she had bargained for and certainly far more than she had. What was he...made of steel?

‘I could be faking it and how would you know?’ she said.

His mouth slanted again in a cynical smile. ‘I would know.’

Holly let out a breath that caught at her throat like a tiny fishhook. ‘In my book, sexual confidence in men is arrogance in disguise.’

He outlined her mouth with that same lazy, tantalising glide of his finger. Tracing, touching, teasing her lips until she wanted to suck his fingertip into her mouth and draw on it as if she was drawing on him intimately. Not that she ever did that. Not for anyone. She hated it. It was gross and so were the men who insisted on it. But something about Julius made her want to step outside her boundaries. He triggered all sorts of forbidden urges in her. Was it because he was so conservative? Or was it because he was the first man she had ever felt this raging, red-hot passion for?

‘You think I’m arrogant because I can pleasure you like you’ve never been pleasured before?’ he asked.

‘Promises, promises,’ Holly said in a singsong voice.

He upped her chin between his finger and thumb so her gaze had nowhere to go but to mesh with his. The burn of his touch moved through her body like a trail of fire. The scorching circle of his thumb beneath her chin sent her pulse into overload.

His eyes moved between hers, back and forth, like the beam of a searchlight. She felt the magnetism of him, the sheer power he had over her with his laserlike touch. The touch she craved in every pore of her body. Her flesh ached to feel his hands move all over her. To shape and caress her breasts, her thighs and what pulsed and fizzed with longing between them. The need was thrumming inside her like the twang of a cello string plucked too hard. It reverberated through her racing blood, tripled her heartbeat and sent her already scudding pulse haywire.

‘You’re beautiful, but you know that, don’t you?’ Julius said in a deep, rough baritone that sent another tremor of want through her core. ‘You know the power you have over men and you use it every chance you get.’

‘A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,’ Holly said, trying to keep her gaze from skittering away from his probing one, trying to keep the fragile hold on her equilibrium disguised. Never had she felt such a compulsion to indulge her senses, to lose herself in a feast of the flesh, to allow herself to be consumed by the power and force of attraction and lust.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, lifting it away from her scalp, only to let it fall in a bouncing cascade against her neck and shoulders. ‘That’s why you were cavorting out in the pool,’ he said. ‘You wanted my attention. How better to get it than to strip off and parade that beautiful, tempting body beneath my office window?’