Sighing wearily, he rose to his feet and removed the gag. She looked to be breathing fine, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He slid the cloth free before returning to his chair and once again staring at her. He could get used to looking at her in his bed, he thought.

She did look pretty. Long, long brown hair lay like thick ribbons around her slender body, and that costume was hot as hell. Seductive red, nearly sheer, the bodice snug beneath her breasts, causing them to spill above the low neckline. Soft, silky-looking pale flesh. A rosebud mouth. His dick twitched hard at the sight of that mouth. It was rosy red and tempting as hell. A mouth like that could give a man more ecstasy than he had any right to. Let alone a Breed.

As he watched her, a low moan passed over the tempting curves of her lips, and long lashes fluttered open weakly. He moved from the chair, watching her closely as he eased down on the bed beside her and capped his hand over her mouth just in time.

The muffled scream was accompanied by a frantic bucking of her body as he moved over her, laying against her heavily, staring into eyes such a deep, mysterious hazel that it could make a grown man weep. Shades of brown, greens and blues collided in those eyes, tiny pinpoints of color that, up close, were almost mesmerizing. They were wide with fear and outrage now. Uh-oh. That hard-on killing him was pressed against her lower belly and, he was certain, was the cause of that outrage and sparks of red-hot fury lighting her eyes.

“Settle down,” he muttered, watching her closely, allowing himself to enjoy the feel of the slender body beneath him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Yeah, she was going to believe that one, he thought, especially with his erection prodding her and those ropes holding her down.

Her muffled scream of outrage against his palm assured him he was right.

“Look lady, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead,” he griped. “If I wanted you scared and under control, you’d be gagged as well as tied down. Now I didn’t play fucking Sir Galahad so you can bring the roof down and let your attackers’ buddies in on the fact that you’re alive and well at this point in time. Now do you want to shut the hell up, promise not to scream, or do you want one of my socks shoved in your mouth? Trust me, that’s not a good alternative.”

She blinked back at him in surprise.

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” he murmured. “Or do I get to lie here until I get tired and use that sock instead?”

Pretty, pretty eyes.

She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she stilled beneath him.

“You’re gonna be quiet?”

She nodded emphatically.

Watching her suspiciously, he began to lift his hand. Slowly, he moved it back, preparing to lift himself off her if she kept her word. She was soft and sweet to lie on, but he had a feeling… Shit. Her mouth opened, a piercing scream nearly escaping before he lowered his head and caught it with his lips.

Dumb, dumb idea. Sweet Heaven, her lips were soft, tender, her mouth a warm, seductive cavern beckoning him.

His hands gripped her wrists as slender fingers formed claws. The ropes held her fast, but he gave her his hands to claw, to prick with those delicate little nails. Something to ease the need for violence he knew must be raging inside her.

God, her lips were soft.

He stared into her eyes, feeling the shock clear to the soles of his feet as his tongue licked at the rosebud perfection, tasting something delicate, addictive, feeling a heated madness building in his brain as hunger swelled inside him.

She looked dazed, staring back at him, the blue in her hazel eyes darkening as he licked at her lips again. He only wanted to keep her from screaming, to silence her as fast as possible without hurting her. But he didn’t expect this.

He moved his hands, forcing them from her grip so he could burrow into her hair where he could feel it silkiness, hold her in place and delve deeper into her mouth at the same time. His thumbs pressed against her jaw, controlling her sharp little teeth in case she had a mind to bite, forcing them open enough to thrust his tongue sharply inside her mouth. God, he ached. His tongue throbbed at the taste of her, prodding at hers as he watched her lashes drift lower, watched her eyes darken.

Sweet, sweet honey filled his senses, tempted his taste buds. Damn she tasted good. Like summer. Innocence. Something he had never known or thought of until he was too old to fool himself into believing it could exist. But it did exist, right here, right now, and the taste of it filled his senses. Damn, he didn’t need this. Before he could weaken further, he jerked his lips back from hers, snagged the gag he had used earlier, a thickly knotted length of torn pillow case and pushed the knot past her parted lips before tying it quickly behind her head, while her muffled screams and frantic struggles pricked at the conscience he wasn’t supposed to have.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He breathed out roughly, sitting beside her as she stared back at him furiously. “But I really didn’t risk my ass so you could scream bloody assed murder and get us both killed.”

She was screaming it now as she jerked and bucked against her restraints, her beautiful eyes promising a wealth of retribution as she finally subsided in exhaustion.

“See, I was even going to give you something for that nasty headache I bet you have.” He smiled back at her deadly glare. “It hurts pretty bad, huh?”

She looked away, her nostrils flaring with rage, her face flushed as her breasts trembled with agitation. And those were some damned pretty breasts. With perfect tight little nipples They swelled over the snug red bodice and silky fabric beneath. Firm, plump little globes with surprising hard, spiked nipples. His eyes narrowed on the obvious signs of arousal, his dick flexing beneath his jeans as his mouth watered for a taste of them.

Reaching out, he allowed the backs of his fingers to smooth over the bared, upper curves. Her eyes swung back to him, wide, filled with fear and heat.

“Your nipples always get hard when you’re kidnapped?” He tried to joke it away, but the tight little buds were just below his fingertips, more tempting than he could have imagined. She was breathing harder now, her gaze distressed, her cheeks flushed as she shook her head demandingly.

“No?”

The elasticized neckline gave easily to his fingers as they smoothed over the hard curves. They were flushed too, the dark pink nipples standing hard and to attention as the fabric rasped over them. Oh man, he was going to go to hell for this one for sure.

The elastic hooked beneath the firm mounds, lifting them higher, causing her sweet little nipples to point straight to the ceiling. The hard points were surprisingly engorged, aroused. This wasn’t fear. This was her body demanding relief.

Calling himself seven different kinds of a fool, he let his fingers trace a path to one hard little point before his thumb and forefinger gripped one of the hard berries, tugging at firmly, watching her closely. He didn’t expect the reaction. She bucked, her body bowing as the sexual flinch convulsed her petite frame.

“Damn.” He was on fire now, almost shaking as a broken little moan tore past the gag and his head lowered.

Helpless mounting lust was riding him so hard, so fast, that he felt drugged, out of control in the face of it. His mouth opened as he covered a trembling peak, drawing it in, sucking it fiercely into his mouth as he leaned over her. His tongue curled around it as she bucked against him, lifting closer, shoving her nipple tight and hard against his tongue as he began to feast.

Chapter Five

This wasn’t real. Amanda thrashed beneath the liquid fire of the stranger’s mouth. A stranger. Oh God, she wasn’t doing this for a stranger, straining closer, trying to shove her breast deeper into his suckling mouth while his tongue wrapped around her nipple like wet velvet. She wasn’t moaning, desperate. Where had that fire come from? The one streaking from her nipple to her womb, convulsing her stomach in spasms of unending, agonizing arousal. And she wasn’t panting. She wasn’t.

But she was.

She screamed behind the gag, her hands curling into fists as his teeth gripped her nipple, nipping and tugging at it as a flashpoint of wet electricity sizzled between her thighs. His lips, teeth and tongue worked the point until it was so sensitive she couldn’t think of anything but more. She needed more. Needed him sucking it in deep and hard, his teeth sending that curious blend of pleasure and pain streaking to the depths of her pussy as her clit began to swell and beg for attention.

“God, you taste good,” he muttered a second before he drew the little point in deep and hard, sucking her into his mouth as a blast of brutal sensation ripped through her. She twisted beneath him, her hips rising as he leaned over her, desperate growling whimpers escaping the gag as his fingers began to toy with the other nipple. It wasn’t enough. Her muffled scream as her body demanded more, shocked her to her core but it didn’t ease the horrible, mindless pleasure tearing through it.

Then his fingers tugged harder, the grip becoming tighter as his teeth rasped the other point. Oh God, it hurt with a pleasure she knew would make her insane. She wanted more, needed more. Just a little bit more and the heavy, tormenting pressure just behind her clit would release, easing the liquid fire spilling from her pussy.

“Shit. You like that, don’t you?” He raised his head, his eyes narrowed on her as his fingers twisted the nipple it tormented.

She screamed for him, her head pressing back into the mattress as she fought the overwhelming cascade of brutal pleasure.

More.

She needed more.

She couldn’t stand the building pressure, the incredible sexual hunger that seemed to rise from a dark, hidden part of her soul. Hunger was like a living being, gnawing at the very depths of her pussy and sending flames to sear the throbbing bud of her clit.

More…She screamed the word behind the gag as he stared down at her. Oh God. What was wrong with her? Had that blow to the head flipped a sexual switch she couldn’t have known existed?

What had he done to her?

He pulled at her nipples again and her gaze glazed over as she fought for breath. Yes. Yes. Like that.

A fiery golden rush of sensation permeated her body, tingling over her flesh, electrifying her.

“Damn.” He was breathing hard too.

His black eyes were bottomless pits of aroused lust, his dark cheekbones flushed, his lips pulled into a tight line of control as she writhed beneath the pressure.

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered then, a wicked sexuality suffusing his expression, giving him a dangerous, dark look.

She arched to him, gasping as his fingers tugged at her nipples again. She wanted his mouth there again. Wanted to feel his lips and teeth tugging at them, drawing on her, making those little streaks of pleasure pain tighten in her womb.

She wanted to know his name.

His head lowered again, and she didn’t give a damn what his name was. His mouth was fiery, his tongue an instrument of torture as it rasped and lashed at the peaked flesh and sent her senses careening with pleasure.

Then his teeth nipped at it, sending fiery shards of painful pleasure exploding into her womb. Her head twisted on the bed, her arms and legs straining against the restraints, her clit was a tortured mass of nerves so in need of relief that all she could think about was the building ache.

“Son of a bitch.” He was breathing hard and rough as his head raised, his tongue licking over his already damp lips as the cool air of the room peaked her nipples further. Please. She wanted to scream the word.

“Damn.” He untied the gag quickly, but before she could beg, his lips were covering hers again, his tongue forging into her mouth.

That taste. Honey and spice. Her tongue twined with his, her lips snuggled around it as she sucked it into her mouth, feeling the taste intensify as his hands gripped her head, holding her to him, using his tongue to fuck her mouth with hot, possessive strokes.

His shirt rasped her nipples as he leaned over her, touching her nowhere else, making her crazy for more. She needed more. She whimpered against the need, thrashing against the bed as desperate mewling moans tore from her throat.