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cupped her bare ass, lifting her up against the wall. "Put your legs on my shoulders," he said gruffly, kneading her ass.
    Sabrina shifted restlessly against her bonds and lifted her legs. The hot pulse of his breath fanned against her most secret place, wicked spikes of need darting through her. She gasped when he leaned forward, his tongue gliding through the slick folds, brushing against the tight bud of her clitoris. Small, soft whimpers were her only sound as he licked and nibbled, stroked and teased, but never gave her more. She wanted to be filled with him, to feel his hard body moving inside of her, taking her to the brink and over.
    Her head thrashed from side to side and wave after wave of heady bliss skyrocketed through her. Vaguely, she heard him speaking, his voice thick and heavy, but too far gone, she only understood one word. Mine . The rest got lost in the sensations his lips and hands were creating.
    Heat, thick and warm, spread through her, followed by racking shudders when he slipped one thick finger into her tight sheath. Blackness swallowed her as the pleasure spiked again.
     
    Sabrina jerked awake, blinked groggily, and glanced around her. The attendants were moving through the aisles, leaning over and gently shaking those who were still asleep. She could hear the whining change in the noises from outside the aircraft, signaling their imminent landing. Her body ached with painful need as the memories she'd dreamed about floated through her consciousness like wisps of clouds. It still hurt, after all these years and coming back here only brought the pain into sharp relief.
    Putting up her seat, she patted aimlessly at her hair, glancing down out of the window at the sprawling metropolis of London. He was out there somewhere, living his life while she couldn't seem to find a way to move on from the past. Taking a deep breath, she faced forward once more, firmly putting Patrick Mason out of her thoughts. She came to do a job and nothing else.

Chapter Three
     
    As usual, getting through Heathrow turned into a mess and by the time she got a cab and found her hotel, exhaustion overwhelmed her. She couldn't do more than crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head. The city reminded her of Patrick to the point of pain. Her soul cried out for him like lungs needed air. He completed her, made her more than what she was on her own. Agony lanced through her. She'd never been hurt like he'd hurt her, like her soul had been rent in two, leaving behind a shell of a person who could still function, but never feel to that depth again. Rain lashed the windows of her room and it brought on yet another round of painful memories, thrusting her directly into the midst of another rainy night…
     
    The rain came down in torrents and she could barely see anything out of the car's windows as they drove along the streets in the Knightsbridge neighborhood where Patrick had bought a flat. She glanced down at her phone, wondering for the millionth time if she shouldn't just call him and let him know she'd come instead of showing up on his doorstep to surprise him. Her stomach clenched tightly with nerves. No, she wanted to surprise him and she'd stick with the plan.
    The taxi pulled to a stop in front of a tall building and she put out her hand to break her forward momentum. Digging into her small bag, she pulled out enough money to cover the fare plus a tip and resolutely opened the door, only to have it nearly take her foot off when the wind pushed it closed once more. Determined, she shoved it open again, darting out of the cab and towards the building looming over her in the gloom. By the time she made it to the small overhang, she ended up soaked through and shivering. Pressing the lobby button on the directory, she hopped from foot to foot anxiously. Finally, the door buzzed open and she slipped inside, wringing out her long hair with one hand.
    The desk clerk stared at her like she had two heads but she resolutely