Blackmailed Into Bed. Heidi Betts
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and dragged her more to the center of the bed. Then he sat back and lifted her leg until the sole of her satin pump rested flat against his bare chest.
He reached past her bent knee, letting his callused palms run up and down her thigh. His fingers caught one of the garter fasteners and deftly released it. The strap, once pulled taut, snapped back, stinging the delicate flesh of her abdomen. She gave a gasp of surprise and Chase chuckled, covering the spot with his thumb and rubbing gently.
“Sorry. I’m not used to garter belts. I’ll be more careful next time.”
Proving he was as good as his word, he reached around to the second clip and carefully unhooked it from the stocking.
When he began to roll the silky material down, Elena almost wished he’d snapped her again. The tiny, biting pain had to be better than the slow agony he was creating now, the heaving, writhing lust monster coming to life in her belly and between her legs. It had fangs and claws and was tearing at her insides, making her shiver and moan.
And she could tell by the simmering, possessive look in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“Patience,” he murmured, slipping off her shoe and the rumpled stocking, and pressing a kiss to the inside of her bare ankle.
She made a sound deep in her throat, a cross between annoyance and a whimper. Which only seemed to amuse him all the more.
He switched to her other leg, following the same process, causing perspiration to break out along her upper lip, inside her elbows, behind her knees. When he finished, he took hold of her panties and the garter belt in both fists and slid them over her hips, down the length of her legs, and off, tossing them to the floor. Next, he reached behind her and deftly undid her bra, pitching the strapless garment in the same direction as her other lingerie.
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Chase said, sitting back to admire his handiwork.
She fought the urge to hide her nudity with her hands or reach for a corner of the bedspread, reminding herself that she’d chosen this.
And Chase Ramsey wasn’t exactly the first man to see her naked. He was merely the first in a while—as well as the most handsome and masterful.
She couldn’t remember another man ever making her want him with just one look, ever making her mouth water or her body vibrate so strongly with unleashed desire.
If he was doing this to get back at her for what she’d done to him in high school, then more power to him. She felt like throwing out her arms and screaming, “Take me. Use me. Make me pay.” His form of revenge was her idea of pure ecstasy.
He moved to cover her body with his own, taking her mouth in a slow, bone-melting kiss. His broad chest, with its sprinkling of dark, springy hair, flattened her breasts and rubbed against her nipples. His erection, hard and hot, nudged her stomach.
Digging her nails into his slick shoulders and back, she tipped her hips, trying to get closer, urging him to slip inside, where she needed him most.
But his exercise in torture wasn’t over yet. He finished with her mouth, trailing his lips along her chin, down the column of her throat, across her collarbone and the swell of her right breast.
His tongue swept across the beaded peak and she groaned, arching upward. He continued to lick, nip, suckle and drive all sensible thought from her head.
She dug her fingers into his hair, trying to tug him away even as her back bowed into his magician’s touch. A whimper slipped past her lips, and she fully expected to expire on the spot. If she survived long enough to regain the use of her limbs and brain cells, she fully intended to exact a bit of her own sweet revenge.
He lifted his head and a cocky, satisfied grin spread across his face. But the smoldering heat in his eyes belied the lighter lift of his lips.
“I want to do more,” he said in a tight, gravelly voice, holding her gaze. “I want to kiss you from head to toe. Taste every inch of your skin, then come back for seconds.”
He crawled up a few inches until their eyes and mouths and naughty parts aligned. Threading one hand through the hair at her temple, he reached past her and grabbed the box of condoms, struggling to open it one-handed.
“I want to,” he repeated, “but I can’t. I don’t have that much self-control.”
When he had a single square packet free, he tore the end off with his teeth and spat the plastic aside. It took him less than a second to sheath himself and settle more fully between her legs, which she had wrapped loosely around his hips.
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