“Have you ever been naked in public, Natasha? Ever put your beautiful little body on display?”
The low, rough words rasped along her nerve endings, dark with arousal and challenge.
Not trusting herself to speak coherently, she bit her lip and shook her head. Or tried to.
Noah held her immobile, his forearm flexed against the side of her neck.
“No, Sir.” The immediacy with which she responded, not even stopping to think before obeying him–and using that word–set off all her inner alarms.
This time it was Noah’s turn to shudder. He sucked in a breath and his abs flexed against her hands, reminding her how close she was to touching his cock.
How close she was to asking him for so much more than permission to touch.
“You will be.” He punctuated his whispered promise by pressing his fingertips into her ass cheek and tilting her pelvis to meet his. The tight, confined thrust of hardness against her core scattered her thoughts all over again. Noah bucked between her legs, abs and thighs bunching as he ground the long ridge of his arousal against her, and the way he held her spread open left zero protection.
Her breath came in short, harsh bursts. Every muscle inside her tensed, trembling and seeking, straining toward Noah’s mastery. Footsteps and wheeled luggage somewhere in the parking garage reminded her they weren’t alone, and that made her more desperate. She squirmed against him, trying to gain leverage to push him away with her knees even as her arms pulled him closer. Her mind and body fought against each other, and her body was winning. She felt herself climbing higher and higher until he closed his teeth around a tender part of her neck and pushed her over the edge.
It didn’t matter that they were out in the open, that Noah was her enemy, not her lover.
Reason didn’t matter. Somehow, Noah knew her body, and he used it as a weapon against her.
She came hard, with frightening suddenness, and for a moment, guilt beat back the pleasure. But the moment was lost, and nobody existed except Noah.
As the shock softened, Noah’s hold on her hair gentled and his pumping hips slowed. She wished he would let her go and turn away, but he stayed with her, reminding her in unnecessary ways–because how could she forget?–that he was still there.
While she shivered and clung, trying to sort through her jumbled emotions, he soothed the sting of a bite mark with his tongue and cooled the damp spot with his breath.
“I’m in control here, Natasha, and I don’t surrender it lightly. Remember that when you’re aiming your luscious mouth at my lover. Remember this.” He pulsed against her one more time, triggering a new wave of aftershocks, and didn’t let her go until she sagged limp in his arms.
When he lowered her feet to the ground, the chill of cold concrete under her one bare foot barely registered. Noah drew her away from the car door and imprisoned her against his chest, his forearm hard below her shoulder blades, as he opened the door and installed her into the passenger seat. After she was settled, he scooped her errant shoe from beneath the car and bent to slide it over her foot.
His words finally registered and took on meaning as he walked to the driver’s side and slide into the seat. Noah jabbed the key into the ignition and fired the engine, staring straight ahead as if she no longer existed for him.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered.
He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t it?”
Tasha shivered. She turned her face away from the stark, white outline of his knuckles.
Noah reached out and cupped her chin, pulling her head back around to hold her gaze.
His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Ty is mine, Natasha. You want to touch him, fuck him, get on your knees and lick his impressive dick? You’ll have to beg me for permission.”