Into the Fire by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t budge.
    â€œClose your eyes, baby girl,” he whispered. “I’m about to show you a very good time.”
    There was nothing she could do to stop him—he was too strong, too determined, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He pushed his fingers inside her, and she wanted to die of shame. And he was rubbing her, using his thumb, and she knew what he was trying to do, but she couldn’t even do it on her own, much less with a stranger touching her, inside her, rubbing her until she moaned.
    â€œThat’s right, sweetheart,” he whispered. “That’s what I want to hear from you. Just a little bit louder.”
    She bit her lip to keep from making any sound, but it didn’t do any good. She felt a spasm of reaction wash over her, and she shivered, her voice choked.
    â€œBetter,” he murmured. “But I think I want to make you cry.”
    â€œDillon,” she said in a cracked voice. Begged, though she wasn’t sure what she was begging for.
    But Dillon knew. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, how to make her shiver and teeter on the very precipice, and then draw back, only to bring her forward again, stronger than ever, and she wanted to weep.
    â€œCome on, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear. “Let go. Stop fighting me, stop fighting it. Come for me.”
    She didn’t have any choice. It washed over her like an explosive force, as her body arched, rigid, and she wanted to scream, to cry, to make it stop, to make it last forever. It was too powerful, too overwhelming, and she let out a low, keening cry that he swallowed with his mouth, keeping her silent as he prolonged her orgasm past human endurance.
    And then she collapsed beneath him, in a boneless, quivering heap, lying against his strong body in the front seat of the old Caddy, shaken and tearful.
    He pulled his hand free and fastened her jeans again, pulling up the zipper and snapping the snap with experienced ease. Her face was wet with tears, but at least it was too dark for him to see, until she felt his fingers wiping them away in the darkness.
    â€œWhat’s going on in there?” Nate’s slurred voice rang out in the darkness. “Are you corrupting my little cousin, Killer?”
    â€œOf course not,” he said in a lazy voice, pushing her down on the seat, out of sight. “I tried to talk her into it but she’s too prim and proper. She just got tired of waiting for you and Rachel.”
    â€œSorry, kiddo,” Nate said in a careless voice. She couldn’t see anything from her vantage point on the cracked leather seat of the old Caddy, but it sounded as if it was just as well. Nate and his girlfriend climbed into the back seat, and she could smell the sickly sweet scent of marijuana permeating the air, mixing with the smell of liquor. Not the beer that Dillon had been drinking, something stronger.
    â€œDrive on, Jeeves!” Nate ordered in a lordly manner.
    Without a word Dillon started the car, the headlights spearing the darkness. It had to be late—the sky stayed light till almost ten that time of year. Would her parents wonder where she was when they got back from their cocktail party? No, they’d assume she was at the prom, safe in the care of a good boy who’d look out for her and keep her safe.
    But that good boy had dumped her. And even her beloved Nate was doing a piss-poor job of seeingto her welfare, leaving her in the hands of a…a…she couldn’t even think of the word for Dillon.
    She tried to sit up, but Dillon simply put a hand on her shoulder and shoved her down again. “You need your rest,” he said, pushing her head down to rest on one hard thigh. She couldn’t have sat up if she tried, but then she heard the telltale sounds from the back seat and realized that Nate and his girlfriend were doing more than necking. And she definitely didn’t want to be seeing that.
    She stopped resisting,