Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage. Maureen Child

thoughts rushed through his mind, Gabe forced them away. This wasn’t about kismet. Fate. Love. This was about revenge, pure and simple.

      He wanted her gasping, writhing beneath him. He wanted her hot and needy, and when he took her to the precipice and over, he wanted her trembling for more. Only then would he be able to walk away, knowing that she would be the haunted one now. Knowing that she would spend the next ten years thinking about him, wondering what might have been.

      She tore her mouth from his. “Gabe, I—”

      “No thinking,” he reminded her, sliding his left hand up now to cup her breast. Her nipple was hard, pressing against the cool silk fabric and responding to his touch eagerly. His thumb and forefinger tweaked and pulled at the so-tender bud of flesh and Debbie twisted in his grasp. Her eyes closed on another sigh as she moved into him, losing herself in the shadows. Giving herself up to his touch.

      “That feels…”

      “Amazing,” he finished for her, then took her mouth again, this time with more need than tenderness. With more hunger than care. He needed, so he took. He wanted, so he claimed. His tongue clashed with hers, his breath mingled with hers. Her sighs became his as he devoured her, taking all she offered and demanding more.

      He slipped his left hand beneath the bodice of her dress to cup her bare breast in the palm of his hand. He kneaded her flesh, tugging at her nipple until she groaned into his mouth and arched into him.

      Shadows danced around them, fed by the candlelight, softened by the whirl of bodies on the dance floor. There was a partition, separating his table from the rest of the club, but Gabe knew it wasn’t enough. The crush of the crowd was only a few feet away.

      For what he wanted from Debbie, he required privacy. He needed her naked and moving beneath him. Her hand cupped his cheek as he kissed her and the simple feel of her hand on his face fired his blood and brought an ache he hadn’t known in years to the corners of his heart.

      At that stray thought, he instantly pulled back from her. He didn’t want his heart touched. He wasn’t looking for affection. For love. All he wanted from her was the physical. The slide of her body over his. The taste of her flesh in his mouth. The sound of her sighs in his ears.

      “Gabe,” she said a little breathlessly, “is everything all right?”

      “Fine,” he lied. “But we need to get out of here.”

      She licked her lips and his gaze fixed on that simple, innocent action. His body tightened and his blood rushed through his veins.

      “Yes,” she said. “Let’s go. Now.”

      Just what he wanted to hear.

      Sliding from the booth, he held out one hand to her and when she slipped her hand into his, he tightened his grip and tugged her to his side. He hooked his right arm around her waist and held her close as they started through the crowded club.

      He led her through the mass of people, threading his way with a single-minded determination that had stood him in good stead over the past ten years. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, and never let anything get in his way.

      Tonight was no different.

      He told himself the rush of expectation filling him was no more than the knowledge that he was about to get his revenge on her. And he was sticking to that story.

      When they were free of the club and headed across the lobby to the bank of elevators, the concierge called out to him. Gabe waved him off, tucked Debbie even closer to him and hurried his pace.

      “I feel like I can’t breathe.”

      He glanced down at her, saw the shine in her eyes and the high flush on her cheeks and nearly kissed her. But once he started kissing her again, he wouldn’t stop. His fingers pressed into her side, sneaking up to stroke the side of her breast. She groaned quietly, bit her bottom lip and gave him a shaky smile.

      “I know just how you feel,” he said, and quickened his pace even further. The heels of their shoes clicked rhythmically against the tile floor and sounded, to Gabe’s fevered brain, like a clock ticking off the seconds until he could have her naked and panting beneath him.

      Past the bank of guest elevators was the private car that went directly to the owner’s suite. Gabe pulled his key card from his breast pocket, swept it through the reader and then pulled Debbie into the elevator as soon as the doors parted for them.

      When the door swept quietly closed and the elevator began its climb, Debbie moved into his arms. He pulled her in tightly to him, wrapping his arms around her middle and holding on as if the touch of her meant life.

      She moved against him and he remembered vividly, wildly, how out of control and frenzied their lovemaking had always been. He’d never found that passion with anyone else. Never known again the flashing heat of desire that overpowered all of a man’s senses at once.

      With Debbie there was heat, fire, explosive need. She slid her hands beneath his tuxedo jacket and ran her palms over his shirtfront. Even through the fine linen fabric, he felt the sizzle of her skin on his and relished the flames, knowing that she was burning for him. Knowing that she was feeling exactly what he wanted her to feel. He walked her backward until she hit the wall, and took her mouth with his in a fierce kiss that demanded and gave and demanded again.

      Her breath puffed against his cheek. She leaned into him, arching her hips into his as if looking for the release that was so very close.

      He tore his mouth from hers, tasted the line of her throat and felt her pulse pounding erratically. He had her. Had her hungry for him, wild for him.

      What he hadn’t counted on, though, was his own need. His own desire nearly swamping him. He had counted on the fact that he could reach her as he once had. But he’d never expected to feel any stirrings himself. He’d thought only to have her, ease his body’s ache and make her whimper for him.

      But there was more going on here. There was more pushing through him and he didn’t like it—didn’t want to admit it, despite the clamoring of his own blood and the hammering pound of his heartbeat.

      No, he told himself. He was in this for one reason.

      Payback.

      “Now, Deb. Right here, right now.” He couldn’t wait any longer.

      She looked into his eyes and whispered, “Yes, Gabe. Right now. Please, right now.”

      He reached down, gathered up the hem of her sapphire-blue gown and lifted it, sliding his hand along her leg, higher, higher. She trembled, spread her legs farther apart in silent invitation and when he cupped her heat, he felt a jolt of surprise.

      “No panties?” One eyebrow lifted as he cupped his hand over her again.

      She gasped, then smiled and shrugged. “Panty lines.”

      “Let’s hear it for tight gowns,” he said, and stroked the hard bud of her sex while she cried his name.