Enticing the Spymaster (War Girls) Read Online Free Page B

it’s me.”
    Michael’s voice penetrated the terror gripping her and she froze.
    The hand over her mouth moved to cup her head, and she felt his lips touch her temple. “Are you...all right?” The question was voiced tentatively, as if he was expecting bad news.
    She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her heart thundered louder than a battery of artillery. She couldn’t decide if she was worried, relieved or angry.
    His lips caressed her skin again, this time her cheek and the corner of her mouth. “I was afraid one of those officers might have come back to...interrogate you.”
    Relieved won. She swallowed hard and finally rediscovered the ability to speak. “No, no, I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. She was in the arms of the one man who had the power to destroy her. “What about you? Did they hurt you?”
    He answered with a grunt. “I have a few new bruises, but nothing that will slow me down.”
    A soul-deep stab of pain had her struggling to breathe. “I’m so sorry.”
    “The choice was mine. It was the only way to remove suspicion from you.” His thumb feathered over her bottom lip. “I don’t regret a single action.”
    “But—”
    He stifled her protest, kissing her with all the gentleness missing earlier in the ballroom. His lips worshiped her in a manner better suited to a man with all the time in the world to seduce his lover. But he’d never been that. Remembered humiliation surfaced. “What are you doing?”
    “What I should have done—” he kissed her again, “—two years ago.”
    Soft, so soft. His lips led her towards a destination she’d never allowed herself to imagine. His hands were warm and firm, holding her with a strength she’d longed to feel for years.
    But he’d rejected her.
    She turned her head, breaking the kiss. “Michael, wait, it—”
    “Shh.” His breath caressed her skin.
    Well, of course she knew they had to be quiet. But instead of getting up, he kissed her again. Good grief, he was good at it. The pleasure enough to satisfy an opium addict. She’d been working under the threat of discovery and capture for so long she’d forgotten how drugging desire could be.
    “Delicious,” he groaned into her mouth before deepening the kiss into something hungry and desperate. His hand released her wrists and skimmed down her arm, side and behind her hips, pulling her into him.
    The heated length of his desire moved against her, doing strange things to her insides. She shivered, her body rocking against it, her nerve endings blazing with a fire she’d never before experienced.
    “Michael?” What was he doing to her?
    “You’re coming with me,” he whispered between kisses.
    “What?” She couldn’t possibly make sense of what he was saying while he drugged her with the touch of his lips and hands.
    “Tonight. It’s not safe for you here.”
    It had never been safe for her. “But I need to stay. My father is depending on me to—”
    “Not anymore. He’s the one who sent me to bring you home.” He dived in for another deep kiss and her argument dissolved into a series of disjointed moans. The hand behind her head slid down her body to her breast. He cupped it slowly, shaping it, making her gasp, then he rubbed his palm over her nipple. She groaned.
    “Promise me,” he said, flicking his finger over the sensitive tip of her breast.
    “What?” she asked, nearly incoherent with pleasure.
    “Promise you’ll come with me. No protest.”
    “Wh—what?”
    He shifted his hips, centring himself over her, and pressed down, rubbing against her.
    Her belly heated to boiling and she couldn’t control her own body as it moved in concert with his. She wanted the promise of sensual delight his body made, needed it more than air to breathe.
    “I can give you pleasure,” he whispered, his raspy deep voice a sinful pledge. “Beyond your wildest imagining. I’ll be your slave for as long as you like if you make me this one promise.”
    Wait... what?
    His