My Reckless Surrender

The dress was gaudy, shocking, spectacular. Completely inappropriate for an audience of one.

Except Ashcroft was the only audience she wanted.

When she put on this dress, she’d felt daring. Now, standing before Ashcroft arrayed like an expensive whore, nerves made her link her fingers at her waist in shaking uncertainty.

She braved a glance in his direction. He was utterly still, and his eyes scorched her. The flutter of a muscle in his cheek indicated his tension. Her gaze darted over his body. His rod pressed eagerly against his breeches. She swallowed to moisten a suddenly dry throat.

“You’re superb,” he said hoarsely.

Confidence surged, and she straightened. “I wore it for you.”

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” His smile was ferocious. His hands opened and closed at his sides, revealing his hunger. “Now take it off.”

A husky laugh escaped. “You forget who’s in charge.”

“I’m completely in your power. Now shed that spectacular rag and come to bed.”

She read the craving in his face. And decided to torment him a little longer. “Later.”

He propped himself on his elbows. Her power was complete illusion. He was large and strong, and he could leap up and grab her anytime. Another of those bone-melting thrills shivered its way through her.

She smiled. “If you get off that bed, I’m going home.”

He immediately stilled. “You wouldn’t.”

No, she wouldn’t. “Try me.”

“You’re a ruthless witch.” He stretched back against the mattress and crossed his legs with unconvincing nonchalance. He looked magnificent reclining against the sheets.

“And you’re a barbarian, Ashcroft. Lolling around in someone else’s bed wearing your boots.”

“Then help me get rid of them.”

“In this dress?”

“You’re welcome to remove it. I remember making that suggestion.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, it was a demand.”

He arched one expressive e

yebrow. “A demand you’ve had no difficulty ignoring.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and began to tug at his boots. She darted forward and knelt before him. “You win.”

“You’re going to jump on top of me?”

“No. But I’ll help you with your boots.”

“Pity.” However, he readily raised each foot for her attention.

For a charged instant, she held his bare leg, feeling the roughness of hair, the strength of his calf. She pressed a kiss to his shin. He leaned down and plunged his hands into her hair, disturbing the elaborate arrangement.

She looked up and fell captive to deep green eyes. A sigh escaped her, and he took advantage of her parted lips to steal a kiss. As his tongue swept into her mouth in a teasing foray, she melted toward him.

There was only the heated pressure of his lips, the flickering response of her tongue. He made a rough sound of enjoyment and deepened the kiss. She raised her hands to his shoulders, clenching her fingers in the loose white shirt.

She sank into a dark velvet world of the senses. A world where there was nothing but endless pleasure.