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Keeping one hand over my mouth, the stranger cradles my shoulder and skims my flesh beneath the strap of my camisole. Instead of tearing into me, he strokes, his touch torturously unhurried. His fingers ignite my skin, drifting closer and closer to my breast. I hold my breath.
What will he do? How will he touch me? Would he really seduce me without hurting me? That sounds unlikely, and yet…does the average serial killer have lingerie delivered to his victim’s office first?
No.
That realization only confuses me more. I’d love to take his seduction at face value. But why would he go to this much trouble merely to get me into bed? I’m hardly movie star gorgeous.
Yet he’s gone to great lengths to get me beneath him—and he’s doing a damn fine job with his opportunity—as his knuckles trace the side of my breast and toy with the cleavage above the camisole.
Tingles erupt. My nipples peak. Pleasure bubbles inside me, scraping against my fear to create a new and terrible anticipation. It’s jagged. Intense. Overwhelming.
As his fingertips find the curve of my waist and linger at my hip, my stomach coils with fear—and my pussy gushes.
This is bad. My head knows it. Why doesn’t my body? Why is it betraying me? What is the matter with me?
Ashamed, afraid, and aroused, I tremble as he doubles back to trace circles around my stiff nipples. I should fight this stranger who’s invaded my home and promises to do the same to my body, but his gentle exploration sends frissons of excitement dancing across my skin. Sugary sensations push past my resistance and rouse the dormant woman inside me. How wrong would it be to surrender to the heat building inside me and let him have his way this once?
Before I’ve answered my question, he plucks at the ties of my camisole, gives a little yank, and the garment falls away. I can’t see, but the cool air caressing my nipples tells me he’s bared them to his gaze. They tighten again even more. I hold my breath, hoping he won’t touch them.
Yet praying he will.
“I’ve got to see this,” he muttered. “See you.”
At my side, he shifts, leans away, dropping his hand from my mouth. Then I hear the little click of my small nightstand lamp. Though I’m blindfolded, I picture a muted light suffusing the room and bathing my skin in warmth.
He cups my breast, then swipes a thumb across one of my stiff peaks with a long, low groan. I swallow a swell of conflicting emotions and try to ignore him by focusing on my racing heart. But he stimulates the taut tip again. Then again, rolling my hard tip between his fingers and squeezing. I bite my lip to hold in a moan.
“Gorgeous. I’ve imagined you so many times…”
His strained whisper tears at my composure, my resistance. He confuses me. He burns me. Am I so desperate to be touched that a stranger who broke into my house to fondle me is turning me on?
Shamefully…yes.
“Who are you?” My demand sounds breathy.
Later…”
“But—”
He transfers his attention to my other breast, plumping my flesh, stroking my nipple. Whatever I intended to say dies, forgotten under an onslaught of sensation.
“Your breasts are gorgeous, fuller than they look in clothes.”
“I sometimes wear a minimizer bra,” I blurt.
“Don’t. Ever again,” he demands, his whisper like the lash of a whip. “You’re too beautiful to hide.”
Pleasure shoots down my belly, centering between my legs. If he really intends to get inside me, the way I feel now? Wetness won’t be a problem.
It’s official. I’m insane. I’m actually contemplating sex with a stranger.
I can’t. Shouldn’t. It’s crazy. Certifiable.
All true, yet… His warm breath brushes my lips, like he intends to—
Before I even complete the thought, his mouth crashes over mine in a kiss that tears my breath—and every rational thought—away. Fear barely has time to flicker before it’s lost in the feel of his hot mouth sliding over mine, his strong hands tilting my head to find the perfect fit. He groans into my mouth. I gasp at the scalding shock of desire.
The stranger seizes my parted lips, stealing inside and thrusting deep. I taste his hunger, his hot, wild demand. Pure desire rushes to my head faster than liquor. And the man can kiss. With a single sweep of his lips, he makes me feel utterly possessed.