Beyond Control by Kit Rocha Read Free Book Online Page A

Wet leather stroked her clit, and she bit her tongue trying to hold back a moan.
    His gaze held more than a hint of danger now. His cool detachment had shattered, leaving behind a hot-eyed man who bared his teeth in a feral grin. "You want to get away, love?"
    Yes. "No." Both answers were true, but neither was quite enough.
    He tightened his grip on her wrists and watched her face as if the rest of the room had simply dissolved. Even Noelle's throaty cries of release drifted away as he lowered his mouth to her ear. "But you want to try."
    Telling, not asking. The words shivered over her, his voice like fingers on her skin. Truth, but he didn't understand. "I want you to stop screwing around."
    "You are so fucking bossy." Rough words, but they came out edged with affection, and he started that steady rock again, grinding her clit against slick leather. "Ask for it. Ask me to get you off."
    She wouldn't. She would not . Then the vise twisted, a tense ache that enveloped her. "Please," she ground out. "Please--"
    He soothed her with low murmurs against her cheek and moved faster, his fingers clenching every time he rocked her against his cock. He kissed her jaw and her cheek before his mouth found her throat, his lips parting only so he could close his teeth with a hiss of triumph.
    The bite was just as delicious as the heat that swept through her. She wanted it all--pain, pleasure, even the anger.
    The passion.
    Lex closed her eyes as the sensations collided, blistering and undeniable. She came again, and this time it was with Dallas's name on her lips.
    Her back hit the floor as pleasure ebbed, and Dallas loomed over her. Noelle sat curled in Jasper's lap a few feet away, both of them as lost in their own world as Dallas seemed lost in her.
    He reared back and reached for his belt, but his hands froze as his gaze swept down her body. The ragged hunger gripping his features twisted as his lips curled down and his eyebrows drew together.
    Lex followed his stare. Her dress had ridden up, revealing her new tattoo, dark and damning against her skin.
    He didn't look happy. He didn't look anything but confused, and she swallowed, suddenly feeling just as spun.
    Then she whispered the only words that came to mind. "Happy birthday."
    He blinked, but that was the only reaction she got before his face smoothed into lazy amusement, the king of Sector Four at his finest. He might as well have been sprawled on a throne instead of kneeling over her, his hand still crushing his belt buckle. Arrogance rolled off him, and the dangerous promise from before seemed tiny and harmless next to what filled him now.
    "You're a few months early," he drawled, tracing his finger over one of the thorny vines. "But that's all right." He lifted his gaze to hers, and the easy warmth in his voice didn't reach those predatory eyes. "I'll take it."
    Oh, shit .

    Seemed like miracles could happen outside the walls of Eden after all, because he'd rendered Lex speechless.
    Not that she needed to talk. Her actions were speaking loud enough all on their own, and so was that ink etched from one hip to the other. Ace's work, without a doubt, recognizable not just by his skill and style but his stubborn adherence to the idea of truth in art.
    Trust Ace to turn a simple name into a maze of subtext and hidden messages. Like the rosebuds, so tightly furled, except for the one wrapped around the s . That one looked like it was struggling to bloom in the shadow of his name. The vine climbing the D , on the other hand, was thick with thorns, more than one jabbing into the calligraphic letter. One thorn glistened with a barely visible drop of blood.
    That felt about right. Sharp edges and blood, and dragging his gaze from the tattoo only showed him Lex, staring up at him in some confused tangle of brashness and nerves. She might well be too scared to speak--God knew she should be--but she wouldn't show terror with everyone watching.
    She wouldn't scratch his face off, either.