Beautiful Storm by Megan Isaacs Read Free Book Online Page B

collarbone, but the heat in his eyes remains. “The only thing I can give you is in my jeans. I can be your dirty secret. I can be yours for tonight. But that’s all I’ll be. No hearts. No flowers.”
    “Are you sure you want to do this? You seem to be trying really hard to convince me to leave.”
    Something passes over his expression and I can’t place it.
    “I promise you, there’s nothing more I want to do. I want to hear your soft whimpers as I fill you. I want to have your taste on my lips. I want to fill every part of you with every inch of me. I want you to wake up in the morning and have every muscle ache.” His length grows ridged against my hip. “I want you to remember for the rest of your life what it feels like to have me fuck you. So yeah, I’m sure of what I want… Are you?”
    I’m speechless. Breathless. “Yes.”
    No.
    He rests his hands on my hips. “You’re still lying.” His fingers gently massage my waist then he skims both my sides, before grazing his thumbs over my nipples. The light contact sends ripples down to my already soaked centre. He leans into my ear again. “But you want me to touch you. Even though you know it’s wrong. Tell me the truth, angel.”
    If he wants the truth, I can give him some form of it. “I want to escape.”
    He pulls back and examines me before closing in on me again. “That I can work with.” The warm whisper against my neck heightens my arousal.

H E MOVES AWAY a fraction, then keeping his gaze locked on mine, closes the last remaining space between us. My eyelids flutter closed at the brush of his lips. At first he’s gentle, soft, teasing, like in the club. Then he increases the heat, demanding more. I surrender under him, allowing him access. My hands find his shoulders, kneading into them, and then I trace his corded muscles down to his forearms.
    His powerful hands skim my sides down to my thighs, and heat surges from my pores where his fingertips meet my bare skin. He touches me like he owns me. When his hands glide a trail upward, the hem of my dress catches on his fingers. He teases the hem up and over his hands but doesn’t move any further. Breaking our kiss, he pulls his face away from mine. It’s like he knows I’m finding it hard to breathe. I stare back at him as I let out a few panted breaths.
    His broad chest surges and subsides, and I miss it pressed against me. “You sure you want to do this? Because if this dress goes any higher it’ll fucking kill me to stop.”
    I purposely move my hands from his arms, trace across his hard chest and down his sculpted abs, stopping short of the tip of the impressive bulge in his jeans. With a single nail, I graze over the rounded head pushing against the denim. I find the sharp intake of breath he takes strangely satisfying. He unravels me. Yet at the same time he makes me feel like I’m the one who holds the power. His gaze holds mine as my thumbs work to pop open the top button on his jeans. Feeling brave, I reach for his zipper only to find another button. He gives me a sexy lopsided smile and places his hands over mine.
    “I need an answer.”
    “Is this not answer enough?” Under his grasp, I press the heels of my hands together, tightening around his shaft. He groans, deep and throaty, as he rocks against the pressure.
    “As much as I would like to say, ‘yes, that’s enough,’ it’s not. Yes or no, angel? Last chance,” he warns.
    Captured by his intense stare, I let my body have the last say. “Yes.”
    He claims my lips with such ferocity our teeth clash, then his heat is gone. And I want to scream. “Hold that thought.”
    I admire the view of his behind as he opens a drawer and searches through it. “Fuck. No condoms.” Shaking his head, he turns to me. “Don’t go anywhere.” He strides out of the room and I hear the metallic jangle of keys.
    I walk over to the kitchen table and rest against it, kicking my shoes off. The few seconds he’s gone allow me to