Claiming the Courtesan

“Oh, no. I’m not chasing you through the hedgerows tonight, my dear,” he drawled. “We’ll save that particular amusement for some other occasion.”

“I’m not some inanimate object,” she protested.

“Lately when you’ve been under me, I’ve found myself wondering,” he said cruelly.

Her sharp inhalation was his only warning. She lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The crack of the blow echoed in the suddenly silent room.

Then she released her breath in a sob and began to struggle in earnest. Kylemore, his face stinging, seized her roughly with both hands.

“You’ll be sorry you did that,” he grated out.

“I’m sorry I ever met you!” she cried wildly.

“You’re not alone in that sentiment.”

“Then why don’t you let me go? End this evil before it ruins us both.”

He felt a vulpine smile spread across his face. “You know why.” He buried his fingers in the thick mass of black hair confined in its elaborate knot. “Because of this.”

Ignoring her wriggling, he forced her head back and swooped down to take her mouth with his. For the space of a second, her lips were taut with rejection. Then she answered his fury with a fury of her own and kissed him back, viciously, hungrily.

Passionately.

He raked his hands through her hair until it tumbled in lavish abandon down her back, while all the time his mouth ravished hers, demanding capitulation she couldn’t help but give. That desperate, unhappy kiss hinted at needs of her own swimming beneath her defiant surface. Needs not too far removed from his own.

Gasping, he raised his head, her taste sharp and rich on his tongue. He searched for some sign that her will and her desire had coalesced at last. But while her mouth was swollen and wet with his kisses, her eyes shone brilliant with rage.

“Concede, Verity,” he begged hoarsely, his pride dust when it came to his overwhelming hunger.

“Never,” she insisted.

Then astoundingly, she reached up to drag him down for another kiss. Their mouths dueled and parted, then met again, this time for what felt like eternity.

This was like no kiss he’d ever shared. This spoke of passion and anger and misery and an endless battle for supremacy.

And pleasure. Pleasure so intoxicating that it made his head spin.

Curling his arm around her slim waist, he bowed her back to press his mouth to her pale throat. Her pulse pounded wildly beneath his lips. The wanton blood beat a relentless rhythm of temptation that beckoned him as opium had beckoned his father to ruin.

He tasted each shuddering breath she took. The sensation was unbearably intimate, as though she lived by his kisses alone. Her hot scent swirled, luring him to further importunities. His nostrils flared as he tested her building arousal in the most primitive way.

Her fingers clutched convulsively at his flesh. Her nails scraped across the crisp hair on his chest, teased a nipple. She rubbed her lithe body in its silk dress against his bare torso as though she wanted to climb into his skin. His excitement leaped another notch to reach an unbearable pitch.

At last, he’d scratched beneath Verity’s surface, perhaps even deep enough to unearth Soraya, although Soraya would never fall victim to such violent need. The woman in his arms quaked at the very edge of control.

If only he could force her over that edge.

With an unsteady laugh, he twisted her around and flung her onto the bed. She gave a strangled cry as she bounced upon the mattress. Before she could roll away, he climbed on top of her and shoved her down onto the covers.

“I hate you,” she hissed.

“So you’ve said. The repetition risks becoming tiresome,” he said in a deliberately bored tone even while the hot blood thundered through his veins.

“Repetition doesn’t make it less true,” she said savagely. Her eyes glittered with fury and unshed tears as she stared up into his face.

God knew what she saw. Certainly, he’d abandoned any remnant of the civilized man he’d once considered himself. He’d treated her roughly before, but this verged on something darker and they both knew it. Straddling her, he clamped his fingers around her dress’s elaborately embroidered collar.