Nalini Singh

Bound By Marriage


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her senses, this layering of pleasure upon pleasure.

      Gabriel’s hand was rough against her skin, the hand of a man who worked the land. But on her neck, his lips were almost velvet soft—a seductive contrast. She lost her breath as he closed his teeth over a pulse point, then released with exquisite deliberation, scraping those same strong teeth along the sensitive flesh.

      “Mmm.”

      Her senses melted under the sound of blatant male appreciation. And the surrender was so sudden and total that something slumbering inside of her jerked to full wakefulness. This wasn’t right, wasn’t how it should be.

      She’d prepared herself for going to bed with Gabriel, had told herself she’d bear the experience, though it would hurt to sleep with a man she didn’t love. Yet here she was, coming apart in his arms. It confused her, made her want to pull away. But the fact was that her last-ditch effort to regain control stood no chance of success, she was so completely out of her league.

      Under her dress, Gabe curved one hand around her ribs to lightly brush the side of a lace-covered breast, destroying all thoughts of rebellion. Her sharp cry made him chuckle. It was a very sexual sound. Even she understood that tone, the tone of a man who knew he had a woman in the palm of his hands. Tonight he was the master and she very much the novice.

      The thought sparked a new burst of defiance. She might not be able to stop herself from going under but she refused to give in completely. Thrusting her hands into his hair, she tugged and made him raise his head. “Why do I have to be the one who’s undressed first?” Her voice was husky, her words uttered on a gasp, but at least she’d gotten them out.

      “Here I am. Unbutton the shirt.” It was both an order and a dare. He didn’t think she’d do it.

      So she did.

      Tanned male skin appeared bare inches from her lips—pure temptation that locked up her throat and shot arrows of need to her most private core. She’d made a bad miscalculation. However she had no intention of backing down. Mouth dry, she continued down his chest and stomach, pulling the shirt from his pants to finish the job.

      When he kissed her again, her hands were still between their bodies and it was inevitable that she’d flatten them on his chest. The shock of skin to skin contact made her tremble. There was nothing soft about Gabriel. The man was built like a lean, beautiful machine and the womanly heart of her could only appreciate him.

      When he slid the hand from her hair along her shoulders, she instinctively understood the silent request. Dropping her hands from his chest, she let him pull the dress down her arms. To her surprise, he stopped with the neckline just above her breasts and let go. Her hand shot up in a responsive movement, clutching the satin to her chest.

      His eyes glittered with passion, unshielded in a way she’d never before seen. “Do it for me, Jess.”

      There was nothing else she could do, not with the fury of passion between them. Her body had triumphed over her mind, taken over everything she’d ever known about her own needs and desires. Unable to hold the power of that gaze, she looked away…and released the dress. It slid off her body like cool water.

      Silence.

      She found the courage to look up.

      Green eyes clashed with her own and time stopped.

      “Beautiful.” He broke the connection to run those eyes down the corset-like teddy, to the point where the lace tops of her stockings met the bare skin of her upper thighs. Then he retraced his journey, leaving her scarcely able to breathe. And that was before he shrugged off his shirt.

      She bit back a whimper but not soon enough.

      “If you want to touch, do it.” His hands went to her waist and stroked down to close over the curves of her bottom with boldness that made it very, very clear he considered her his in the most basic sense.

      Hands fisted against his chest, she fought the urge to lean closer to taste him. His skin was beautiful, healthy and golden brown, radiating power. A second later, he used that strength to pick her up and drop her lightly on the bed.

      Then never taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the edge to remove his socks. The muscled temptation of his back laid waste to her final defenses. She was about to reach out to touch when he stood. His hands went to his belt.

      Fingers grasping the sheets, she watched mesmerized as he unbuckled the belt and pulled it out of the loops. It fell to the carpeted floor with a dull metallic sound. But she could hardly hear anything, her attention fixated on his fingers as they undid the top button of his pants.

      Then he pulled down the zipper.

      Cheeks ablaze, she closed her eyes and felt—more than heard—his low chuckle as he got rid of the pants and climbed into bed beside her. Throwing one leg over her lower body, he put a hand on her stomach. “I’m not naked…yet.” It was a scandalous whisper in her ear.

      Opening her eyes, she found his lips a thought away from hers, his eyes holding no amusement despite that chuckle. The hand on her stomach slid lower.

      “Stay with me,” he ordered when she would have turned her head.

      She stayed, admitting to herself that she was a full participant in this dance at the very instant that he moved to cup her intimately. Her body arched up and she found herself squeezing her thighs to hold him to her. Giving a hoarse groan, he kissed her hard, that big hand rubbing the excruciating need between her legs. A second later, he was gone. She cried out at the loss, the sound so desperate she shocked herself.

      “I want you naked.” His fingers begin to unlace the ribbons holding together the teddy. His clenched jaw left no question as to the force of his arousal. “Where did you get this?”

      “Hollywood Boulevard,” she managed to answer.

      Kissing the curve of her neck, he pushed one hair-roughened thigh between hers. “Wear it for me again.” It was a definite command.

      She might have protested his arrogance had he not chosen that moment to peel apart the sides of the teddy and cover a breast with his palm. Her mind splintering, she pushed into that callused male touch. But he released her far too soon. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from begging him to come back.

      “I like the way you look at me, Jess. Now it’s time for me to look at you.” Rising to his knees, he moved until he could tug the teddy off completely and throw it aside. Then he took inventory of her with his eyes—from the tips of her stocking-covered toes to the curves of her hips to the peaks of her breasts. Jess felt every look like a physical touch and when he pushed up her legs to bend them at the knee, she didn’t have the will to protest, much less the ability.

      He spread her knees to kneel between them, his body heat an exquisite caress. Running his hands under her thighs and bottom to her lower back, he pulled her up to straddle him.

      “Oh!” She grabbed at his shoulders to steady herself, suddenly conscious of the rigid length of his arousal against her.

      It was as if he’d seen the knowledge in her eyes. “Relax, darling. I haven’t finished tasting you.”

      She swallowed. In this position, she was completely at his mercy. But he didn’t tease, instead gave her exactly what she wanted by dipping his head and taking her nipple into his mouth. The hard suction tugged low and deep inside of her, tempting her, taunting her.

      Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, the flesh slick and hot under her skin. He was so unapologetically male that everything female in her reacted to him, softening, weakening…melting.

      As a result, when he used his hands to ease her down onto the bed, she was lost enough to say, “Gabe, please.”

      Swearing under his breath, he moved to drag off his briefs. But he returned to his position an instant later, his hands going under her thighs. “Wrap your legs around my waist.” The rawness of his voice was as much an aphrodisiac as the skin stretched tight over his cheekbones.

      She