With Visions of Red: Book 2 (The Broken Bonds 2)

A blazing current ignites my skin, and I clutch him to me, unable to control the overpowering sensations consuming me. I rock my hips, helping him along—but he knows me. Already attuned to my body and my needs, he locates the spot that sends me over the edge. I feel myself tighten around him, and he groans, dropping his head to my chest. His hand cups one of my breasts as his hot mouth surrounds my nipple through my shirt.

His teeth nip and his tongue flicks, pulling the ache from my core to my lower back, the impending orgasm laying claim to my whole body.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his warm breath touching the cool wetness of my shirt and spiking my blood. He bites down on my nipple just as his fingers pump hard into me, rubbing the swollen mound until I’m trembling in his arms.

His strength supports me as I sag against the wall. His hand presses harder against my clit, claiming me. “Come for me, goddess. Soak me.”

A clipped moan escapes my lips. “Colton…” But the rest of my plea is lost as his lips crash against mine, swallowing my cry. His tongue delves into the hollow of my mouth, and as his lips bruise mine in a crushing kiss, I break against him.

I’m a lightning rod beckoning the flame. I’m devoured by it.

His mouth continues to take me as the aftershocks swell and ebb, flowing through and over my body.

Removing his hand from my pants, he breaks away only to grasp the backs of my thighs and lift me up against the wall. His labored breaths brush my mouth as he drives his cock against my throbbing center, a harsh curse expelling through his gritted teeth. “You make me an animal. I’m fucking going out of my mind.”

All sense of reality and where we are is a distant memory. My desire is already building again; the feel of his desire grinding against me has me pulling him closer. My hands fumble until I’ve successfully yanked the back of his shirt up and I touch his hot flesh. The tight, corded m

uscles of his back move beneath my palms as my fingers dig into his skin, seeking purchase.

He mimics my need, his hand sliding beneath my shirt and pushing my bra up to palm my breast. As the adrenaline surges, a small voice in the back of my head is trying to be heard over the roar of emotions. Its whispered threat says I should stop. No one touches me. I’m filthy. And as his fingers graze the scar along my collarbone, the pressing fear surges to life; becomes a tangible entity.

I grip him to me harder. Past the fear and pain and torment. This is the only man to ever push me past my comfort zone, beyond my limits, and bring me back. I’m bound to him.

The echo of laughter reaches my ears, and Colton’s movements halt. Lifting his intense gaze to mine, he utters a curse before his lips taste mine once more, then he forcefully pulls away. Panicked, I quickly rearrange my bra and hike my pants, zipping them closed as Colton heaves strenuous breaths just inches from me.

He reaches down to adjust the straining bulge in his jeans, then turns and braces his hands against the opposite wall. I watch the rise and fall of his back as he visibly struggles to calm himself.

Shaken but gaining equilibrium, I take an uneven step in the direction of the main room.

“Get rid of him.”

Almost composed, I whirl around to face Colton. “How? I can’t—”

“You keep saying that, but we’ve proven the exact opposite, haven’t we? Get rid of him, or I will.” The determined, hungry glint in his pale blues conveys the absolute urgency of our situation. Tension radiates off him at high volume, crashing against me and expressing his need. I nearly wilt under the intensity of it.

If we were alone—right now—Colton wouldn’t hold back. As delicate as he’s been with me thus far, giving me time to…acclimate, he’s beyond that now. The imagery flashing before my eyes of what he would do to my body in his state thrills me as much as it terrifies me.

“Agent Bonds.”

Carson’s curious tone pulls me out of the seductive trance, and I turn to acknowledge him. “Did you get what you were looking for?”

Eyebrows drawn together, he nods. “I did. But I just have a couple more questions for Colton, then we can—” A sequence of beeps triggers from his phone at the same time mine vibrates.

I unclip my cell from my harness and swipe open the alert.

Quinn: 187 TRM, beneath the bridge. Immediate response.

“Hell,” Carson says under his breath. His wide, brown eyes meet mine. “Let’s wrap this up.”

And I know—I’m not staying with Colton. Selfishly, I despise my role in this moment, but my calling has to come first. Always. I glance over and find Colton’s gaze already on me, a knowing, resolute look creasing the corners of his eyes.

He nods to me, then levels Carson with a firm glare. “I assume I’ve provided all the answers you need. So what else can I do to help the ACPD, detective?”

Removing the photos of the four victims from his leather folio, Carson lines them up side-by-side on a table. “To your knowledge, have any of these women ever been to this club?”

Colton moves to stand over the close-up images of the women’s faces. “Three of them.”

A sick jolt kicks my stomach.