It occurred to her that she was as good as naked—worse than naked, really. She knew exactly what she looked like, standing there in nothing at all but two strips of provocative black lace. The strapless bra above and a pair of saucy boy shorts below that, despite their name, were entirely and decidedly feminine.
He’d been right when he’d accused her of using her body as a weapon. She’d honed hers to lethal perfection deliberately. She knew exactly how to package it, how to aim it, to get what she wanted.
If only he wasn’t looking at her as if he held all the ammunition.
“I want—” she began, but everything was too hot. Behind her eyes, in that uncontrollable shaking in her knees, in that fever that had taken over her belly, her sex, shooting sensation into her fingers until they clenched on the need to touch him.
Hunter prowled toward her, sleekly male and not entirely tame and possibly the most glorious creature she’d ever beheld. He never took his eyes from hers. He never broke.
And Zoe had never felt more like prey in all her life.
Or more beautiful.
“Hunter...” she whispered.
His mouth looked hard and demanding as it crooked to one side. And his name sounded in the too-hot air between them like an invocation to that terrible god of his that would, she knew, destroy whatever was left of her.
She knew she should care about that. That it should make her run the way she had in her office that day. But she didn’t move.
He closed the distance between them, then took her upper arms in his tough hands, hauling her to him. He wasn’t gentle, and despite herself, despite that desperate part of her that knew better than to let this happen, it thrilled her.
Her breasts pressed against the planes of his impressive chest. At last. Her belly was soft against the unmistakable jut of his arousal. Finally. And he was built so big, so strong, all those heavy muscles and smooth, hard planes, like a fantasy of a man made real. He surrounded her.
He’s seducing you, that treacherous voice whispered.
Zoe tipped her head back and reminded herself that she couldn’t let this happen. Not like this, not all on his terms. That the price she’d have to pay wasn’t worth whatever brief moments of fire and awe she might—
“I have an idea,” he said, in that guttural way of his that felt like another punch, directly into the center of her need. Shock waves vibrated out, teasing her aching nipples, making her breasts feel heavier. Making her skin prickle, too hot and too tight. “How about you stop playing these stupid games?”
“I’m not playing!” None of this felt even a little bit like playing.
“I appreciate the noble sacrifice of your lush little body to my savage needs,” he said, and though his voice was still low, she heard that dark amusement in it that, even now, sparked in her. “But I want you needy, too. I want it real.” His fingers flexed against her shoulders. It showered her in dancing flames and lightning bolts, and she trembled. He nodded. “I want this.”
“No, you don’t.” Her voice was bitter then. Hardly hers at all. Pouring straight out of her past, and she couldn’t seem to do a single thing to stop it.
He took one hand to her face, cradling her cheek in a manner she might have called tender, had that been possible. As it wasn’t, she concentrated instead on the heat of it. The singe, the burn. Hunter.
“I insist on it,” he said softly.
“Men prefer fantasy. No matter what. No matter what contortions of reality are required to make it work.” She felt outside herself, then. Harsh and out of control. “It’s the only thing you know how to do.”
“Zoe.”
She could have handled another command. But not her name, not like that, breathed out like a prayer. As if he’d heard that roughness behind her words, sensed the prick of tears behind her eyes. As if he knew the dark and terrible things in her she’d never share, not with anyone.
If anything should have made her bolt for the door, it was that. And yet she only stood, his hand cupping her cheek, his spectacular body pressed to hers, staring up at him as if this was something more than a means to an end.
“Let’s get naked,” he suggested, that gleam in his blue gaze turning molten, setting her ablaze, and she couldn’t bring herself to fight how deep it went, how dangerous it was, how she thought it might be breaking her apart in ways she didn’t know how to fix. “And see what happens.”
He didn’t wait for an answer; he simply picked her up. He settled her legs around his waist and took her mouth with his, one hand at the back of her head, the other hard on her bottom.