Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso Read Online Free Page A

across her bare collarbone. A thrill raced across her skin. If anyone could show her something enjoyable in carnality, it would be the sexy bastard behind her. He radiated heat and sensuality on a scale she couldn’t even fathom. She almost clamped her thighs together against the pulsating wave of lust curling through her pussy.
    Selena drew in a deep breath, trying to get control of her body. “If you think I’m going to let you chain me to some medieval torture device, you better think again.”
    “I told you. That’s not my thing.” There was a hard edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.
    The woman across the room jerked against her bound hands. The metallic sound of her restraints was an odd accompaniment to her moans. Her master stood by her head, his cock in his hand, letting her suckle the rounded head. Selena was transfixed by what she was seeing. She’d never been fond of giving oral sex. She found it demeaning. Yet this woman appeared to be willing. Hell, she looked like she wanted more.
    “If you don’t tie me up, what makes you think I’ll hold still? What if I just decide to get up and walk out in the middle of whatever it is you’re planning to do?” Selena wondered why she was even entertaining the idea of calling his bluff. Was she insane? Was she that desperate to make a connection with her so-called savior that she was willing to check out of reality for a while?
    “I’m willing to take that chance. Are you?”
    She spun on her heel and found herself staring at his chest. She craned her head back to see his face. It made her feel dainty—feminine in a way she hadn’t for so long. In her heels, Selena had always been taller than the business magnates and prep-school boys she dated. At five-nine she wasn’t exactly short, even barefoot, but Malachi was taller, sleeker, and formidable in an understated way. He wasn’t bulging with muscle like Selena’s sister’s husband. Malachi moved like a man who knew his own power and was utterly comfortable with it.
    His uncanny gray eyes gleamed with the promise of something Selena just couldn’t resist. Worse, she didn’t really want to resist. She’d searched everywhere for this man, only to begin believing he and his shadowy accomplice were figments of her imagination. She wanted this. And she’d keep her fingers crossed that he wasn’t going to be her second regret of the night or her third bad experience at Triptych. “Fine, but not in here. I like a little privacy.”
     
    GETTING HER TO accept his proposal had been the goal, right? So why was Malachi’s gut telling him he had made a hasty decision with irrevocable repercussions? This wasn’t just a woman. She was the wildcat he’d rescued once before. That night in the street he’d known she was desperate for satisfaction. This was his chance to show her how she could achieve it. Of course he was also feeling a strong desire to castigate her for deciding to follow yet another complete stranger into an unknown situation. Hadn’t her earlier mishap cured her of this insatiable self-destructive behavior?
    Would it have cured me?
    There was a time in his past when he would have made an equally bad choice. Who was he to judge someone else’s desire to act out against their submissive tendencies?
    He left the room and took the next right down a narrow corridor. He didn’t have to look to know she’d followed. Maybe a part of him hoped she wouldn’t. That he would turn, and she would have fled the Underground. Instead, her scent lingered at the edge of his awareness. It wasn’t light and airy like most females. It was dark and wild, tinged with the kind of frustration Malachi understood.
    Her heels clicked against the stone floor, her long legs easily keeping time with his strides. He began to focus on his breathing. Something about her rattled him. He didn’t like it, but as with anything else, it could be controlled. He’d learned to master his body and his emotions at