Lethal Attraction: Against the Rules\Fatal Affair Read online

  She leaned closer, seeking the delicious male scent of him. “Are you going to do everything you’re thinking about?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  He was sliding closer too, moving in to nuzzle his mouth against the base of her throat where the skin was throbbing with the pounding of her pulse, his lips feeling the frantic rhythm and increasing it with his touch. “I couldn’t,” he murmured, his mouth moving against that delicate spot. “I’d kill myself if I tried to live up to those particular fantasies.”

  Cathryn shuddered with the liquid desire that flooded her and she twined her arms around his shoulders, trembling with a need that she couldn’t deny even though she couldn’t understand it. This was a mistake, and she knew it, but for now the primitive joy she was drowning in was more than worth the price she would have to pay when sanity returned. She allowed him to stretch her out on the bed and take her in his arms, his nakedness scorching her flesh through the flimsy fabric of her gown. Her head tilted back in invitation and Rule laughed quietly, then gave her what she wanted, his mouth coming down and taking control of hers, parting her lips for the invasion of his tongue.

  She could have died content in that moment, delirious with the pleasure of his kisses, but soon the contentment was gone and kisses weren’t enough. She twisted restlessly in his arms, seeking more. Again he knew; he sensed the exact moment when she was ready for increased intimacy. His hand went to the neckline of her gown and she went still with anticipation, hardly daring to breathe as she felt his lean fingers deftly slipping open its buttoned top. Her breasts began to throb, and she arched, seeking his touch. He satisfied her need immediately, his hand sliding in to cup and fondle the rich, sensitive mounds, his rough palm seeming to delight in the softness of her.

  The groan that followed was his, an inarticulate sound of hunger. His hands pulled at the nightgown with rough urgency and moved it from her shoulders, baring her breasts to the moonlight. His mouth left hers and slid down her body; then his tongue snaked out to capture a taut nipple and draw it into the searing moistness of his mouth. Cathryn gave a strangled cry at the wildfire that leaped along her nerves; then she arched herself into his powerful body, her hands clenching on his shoulders.

  He reached down to her ankles and slid his fingers beneath the hem of the gown, then made a reverse journey, a journey that took the hem upward. There was no protest. She was burning, aching, ready for him. She lifted her hips to aid him and he bunched the cloth about her waist, but that was as far as it got. With a hoarse, shaking sound he covered her, kneeing her thighs apart, and Cathryn went still, waiting.

  “Look at me,” he demanded hoarsely.

  Unable to do otherwise, she obeyed him, her eyes locked with his. His face was taut with primitive hunger, releasing the answering hunger in her body that she had tried—and failed—for so many years to conquer. The probing of his maleness found her moist and yielding, and he took her easily, sliding his hands beneath her bottom to lift her into his possessive thrust. Electric pleasure shuddered through her and she gave a faint, gasping cry. This was wilder, hotter than anything she had experienced before. Her eyes began to slide shut and he shook her insistently, whispering from between his clenched teeth, “Look at me!”

  Helplessly she did so, her body his as he began to move. Nothing she had known had prepared her for this, for the wildly surging pleasure that didn’t wait but almost immediately swept away her control, carrying her swiftly to the peak. He held her tightly to his chest until she was limp beneath him; then he gently lowered her to the pillow. “Greedy,” he said in a low, tender drawl. “I know just how you feel. It’s been too long, and I can’t hold back either.”

  Still stunned by the force of her ecstasy, she was totally overwhelmed by his passion and need. Nothing made any sense; nothing mattered but the strength of his driving body. She clung to him with the frail tenacity of a slender vine wrapped around a sturdy oak, cradling him within her silky embrace until he too surrendered to pleasure and cried out hoarsely.

  Long minutes later he stirred, lifting his heavy weight onto the support of his elbows. He kissed her mouth and eyes, feathering kisses along her lids until they lifted and darkness met darkness, hers soft and vulnerable, his sharp with undisguised triumph. “That took the edge off,” he growled, his voice rough and low and vibrant. “But that was a long way from the end of it.”

  He proved it, making love to her this time with patience and an absorbing tenderness that was even more devastating than his rampaging lust. There was no way she could resist him, no way she even wanted to try. This too had a sense of homecoming, a completion that she had lacked, a satisfaction that she had longed for and tried to deny. Tomorrow she would regret this, but for tonight she had the wild joy of being in his arms.

  CHAPTER 4

  When the sensual storm had passed he didn’t leave her, didn’t roll away to fall into isolated sleep; he kept her a willing captive beneath him, his long fingers threaded into her hair on each side of her head as he began a siege of kisses. He didn’t speak. His lips feathered kisses over her entire face, slowly, lightly, feeling the contours of her features with his mouth. His tongue teased at her skin, stealing tastes. She made no protest; she didn’t even try to resist the erotic appeal of his exploring mouth. She let herself be absorbed in his sexual magic, in the tremors that started anew, feeling them grow stronger as she tightened her hold on him. They were both prisoners, she of his confining, muscled weight, he of the strong, silky bonds of her arms and legs.

  When he freed a long, muscular arm and stretched it out to snap on the bedside lamp, she murmured an inarticulate protest at the intrusion of light. The silvery moon magic had wrapped them in a comforting aura of unreality, but the soft glow of the lamp created new shadows, illuminated things that had previously been hidden, and concealed expressions that had been brought out by the stark colorless light of the moon. One thing that couldn’t be concealed was the hard male triumph written on the dark face above her. Cathryn became aware of a blooming regret as she began to admit the folly of the night’s actions. There were a lot of things she didn’t understand, and Rule himself was the largest enigma, a complicated man turned in on himself, but she did know that the hot sensuality between them had only made their situation more complex.

  He trapped her face between his hands, his thumbs under her delicate chin as he gently forced her to look at him. “Well?” he growled, his raspy voice sinking into a rumble. He was so close that his warm breath touched her lips, and automatically she parted them in an effort to recapture his heady taste. A shudder of reaction rolled through her, eliciting an answering ripple in the strong body that pressed over her.

  She swallowed, trying to gather her thoughts into some sort of coherency, not certain what he was asking, or why. She wanted to give him a controlled, bland response, but there was no control to be found, only raw, unvarnished emotions and uncertainties. Her throat was tight with anxiety as she blurted, “Is this an effort to keep your job as ranch manager?”

  His shadowy eyes narrowed until only gleaming slits remained; he didn’t reply. His thumbs exerted just enough pressure to raise her chin and he settled more heavily against her, fitting his mouth to hers with sensual precision. Hot tingles twitched into life beneath her skin and she joined the kiss, meeting him with teeth and tongue and lips. Why not? she reasoned fuzzily. It was too late to even try to stifle her responses to him. Rule was an exciting lover on such a basic, primary level that responding to him was as compelling a need as breathing.

  At last he lifted his mouth enough to let an answer whisper between them. “This doesn’t concern the ranch,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers that they brushed hers lightly when he spoke. “This is between us, and nothing else even begins to matter.” Suddenly his voice thickened and he said harshly, “Damn you, Cat, when you married David Ashe I was so mad I could have torn him apart. But I knew it wasn’t over between us, so I let you go for then, and I waited. He died, and I waited.