BargainWiththeBeast Read Online Free Page B

to chest, thigh to thigh. He
lifted his hand and, pinching her chin in a firm but gentle grip, forced her to
face him. Her small, sharp gasp brushed the skin on his throat and savage
triumph surged through him. This close she couldn’t hide the rapid rise and
fall of her chest or the small whimper she bit off.
    His heart pounded in his chest like an animal attempting to
free itself from its prison. Gwendolyn wanted him. She may not like her
attraction for him or even be ready to admit it, but the body couldn’t lie. If
a slim chance of rescinding the ultimatum had existed, the shudder of her
breath across his skin obliterated that possibility to hell.
    “Either give me your body for seven days or relinquish your
precious community center in fourteen. Sacrifice yourself to the beast or watch
the doors of the center close. Is it going to be you or the kids you claim to
love so—”
    “You’re right.” She wrenched her chin from his grasp, but
didn’t shy away from his close scrutiny. “You are a monster.” The insult
stabbed him in a heart he’d believed no longer existed. “And I accept
your…terms,” she whispered.
    The victory possessed an acrid tang even as his pulse pounded
and his gut knotted with anticipation. In days he would be balls-deep inside
this stunning woman. Nothing, not even the tiny flash of remorse, could conquer
the need to find oblivion in her pussy. Would she be fierce, demanding her
pleasure? Or would she reveal a shier side, one he would enjoy shocking with
the acts he planned to exact from her? Would her sheath cream for him, easing
the tight fit around his cock—
    “Don’t misunderstand, Xavier. I’ll lie on my back for you
because the other choice sucks worse. But when the week is over, know you’ll
have taken more than my body. You’ll have stolen my memories of the man you
were.”
    She pivoted and stalked toward the door. The rigid spine and
the sultry sway of her hips in the deep-red dress waved at him like a red flag
to a raging bull. Shame and lust mingled, swirling together in a toxic mixture.
He rushed across the room. His chest slammed her back and only the anchor of
his arm snaked around her waist prevented her from tumbling to the floor.
    He didn’t pause to analyze or reassess his actions. His
cock, nestled in the crease of her ass, commandeered all rational thought. The
bottom curve of her breasts pillowed over his arm, the mounds a warm, sensual
weight. But her full, sexy ass…the soft cushion cradling his dick… He groaned,
ground his erection into her flesh and groaned again.
    Lust claimed him. He tightened his hold around her waist and
gripped her hip with his free hand, restraining her for the slow, hard strokes
of his cock. The miniscule section of his brain not yet consumed by arousal
comprehended Gwendolyn didn’t fight him. She arched in his arms, her spine
forming a perfect bow. The sweet curves of her bottom circled against his dick
in an eye-crossing grind. Hell no. The low whimpers weren’t pleas for
escape—they were encouragement. Sweet need.
    “One taste, baby,” he muttered and released her hip to cup
her chin and angle her head back. He dragged his lips along the exposed,
graceful line of her neck. Fresh and pure, the taste of her skin was like water
to a thirsty man. He savored another sip. The muscles in her throat bobbed
under his teeth as he grazed a path to the slope of her shoulder.
    “So good,” he praised. “So damn good.” He transferred both
hands to her waist and whirled her around. As her chest bumped his, he
swallowed her soft, surprised gasp into his mouth. The flavor of her… Jesus .
Like the honeyed bamieh his mother used to make when he was a boy
combined with the punch of whiskey-laced coffee his father enjoyed after
dinner. Sweet. Potent. Addictive. He plunged between her parted lips,
tongue-fucking her mouth the same way he hungered to thrust his cock into her
body.
    She gripped his arms and clung to him as if he were