Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (23 page)

The climax, when it finally exploded inside her, left her sobbing against the table, tears on her cheeks. She felt him move harder and deeper, his breathing becoming harsh and ragged. Then abruptly he let her wrists go, his arms sweeping beneath her, gathering her against him as he gave one last hard, convulsive thrust and called her name in a raw voice, holding her tight as his own release hit.

Honor kept her eyes closed as he shuddered against her, as the post-orgasm aftershocks moved through her body like little flashes of static electricity.

This had probably been a huge mistake. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The world she’d known for the past fifteen years had shattered and if the only thing she could take from it was the wild, heady pleasure of being in Gabriel’s arms, then hell, that’s what she’d take.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Gabriel slapped a hand on the table beside Honor, bracing himself as the after effects of the orgasm ricocheted through him. He was shaking.

Holy fuck. What the hell was wrong with him?

He stared down at her. She lay facedown on the table, her skirt bunched around her waist, revealing the smooth, white skin of her perfect ass. Her head was turned to the side, an inky black veil of hair hiding her face. She didn’t move and shit, he didn’t think he could either. He was still inside her and the feel of her body clasping him tightly was threatening to make him hard all over again.

How had it happened? He’d wanted to stop her from leaving so he could get that fucking information about Tremain.

Except she’d wanted to protect her stepfather. Which had made him so angry. What had that prick done to deserve her loyalty? Especially when she was faced with the evidence that the man hadn’t been who she’d thought. He’d wanted to tell her then, all about his mother. About what that bastard had done to her.

But he hadn’t. She’d been soft and warm in his arms, shock and betrayal written all over her face. Because Jesus, she hadn’t only been let down by the man she thought of as a father, but she’d also found out her actual father’s secrets went deeper than anyone had ever guessed. He’d wanted to give her something then. Something to take away her anguish. And the only thing he could think of to give had been pleasure.

Except he’d forgotten what she did to him. Forgotten how the taste of her, the sound of her crying his name, got under his guard. Totally screwed with his detachment.

How intoxicating it was to have her surrendering her control to him. Fuck, he’d felt like God himself when all the tension had gone out of her and she’d given herself up to him.

Trusting him.

A cold hand squeezed around his chest. Shit, he couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t.

Gabriel withdrew and shoved himself away from her. He walked quickly into the hallway and went into the bathroom, dealing with the condom before going to the sink and turning on the faucet. He splashed some water onto his face, his hands still shaking.

This was insane. Okay, so there was something about Honor that really got to him. That made him want to take her rough and hard, imprint himself on her in some way. Rip away that controlled exterior and force her to acknowledge him.

He didn’t know why he needed that from her. It didn’t make any sense. She was just a woman and he’d had women before. Many women.

But not like this. Not with their hands behind their backs and their feet off the ground.

Shit. Screwing her was not supposed to be the goal here. Information was. Which made him escaping into the bathroom ridiculous, especially after making such a big deal about her staying.

Gabriel dried his face off with a towel then strode back into the lounge area, hoping like fuck his badly timed exit hadn’t resulted in Honor leaving. But no, she was still there, leaning against the table, smoothing down her skirt.

As he came in she looked up, and apart from the streaks of mascara on her cheeks, she looked as cool and untouchable as ever.

“What? Worried I might leave?” she said, an acid bite to her words.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about Tremain,” he said. Or the connection between him and Honor’s father. A connection he hadn’t known about until now.

“I haven’t, don’t worry.” As if unable to help herself, her gaze dipped down his body, color rising to her cheeks, and once again he felt his cock getting hard. Wanting her.

Why bother fighting it? Why can’t you get the information you need and have her, too? Especially if she’s into it …

Yeah, she had been into it. She’d obeyed his rules, laying there as he’d instructed. Then she’d put her hands behind her back when he’d asked and although she’d told him she couldn’t handle it, she hadn’t said stop. She’d only screamed as her orgasm had taken her, her body griping him tight like she’d never let him go.

The way she had back in Vermont.

A burning excitement he’d never consciously let himself feel before began to spread throughout his body.

Honor stared at him as if sensing it, the smoothing movements she was making to her skirt becoming slower. “What?” she said huskily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He stalked toward her. “I think you know why.”

The table was at her back; she had nowhere to go. Her chin lifted, her shoulders squared. Her gaze flickered though, and it wasn’t fear he saw there but excitement. Yes, she wanted this, too. Wanted this release as badly as he did.

And just like him, she was afraid to want it.

Well, maybe he’d make the decision for both of them. Maybe it was time not to be afraid any longer.

He backed her up against the table, putting his hands on the edge on both sides of her, caging her in. “Why do you think I’m looking at you like that? Because there’s another reason I don’t want you to go.”

Her throat moved, a convulsive swallow, and he couldn’t help himself. He reached up and put his fingers around her neck, his palm resting against the base of her throat. He heard the sharp breath she took, saw the way her pupils dilated, felt her pulse race against his palm. “I don’t think…”

“You want this, Honor. I know you do. And so do I.” He stroked the side of her neck with his thumb, her skin soft, smooth, and delicate beneath his touch. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Only pleasure. So why not let yourself have it?”

Thick black lashes descended, veiling her gaze for a heartbeat. Then they rose again, her eyes dark and deep as a midnight sky. “You’re wrong,” she said softly. “I’m not afraid. Not anymore.” And this time it was she who kissed him, rising onto her toes to press her mouth to his, her palms flat against his bare chest, driving the breath from his lungs.

He let her kiss him, tasting the sweetness of her, gripping her throat so she knew he was there, that he was still in charge. Because he had to be. If he wanted to indulge himself with her, he had to have the reins tightly in his grasp.

Her hands slid up over his chest, around his neck as the kiss deepened, her body arching against his. She wasn’t holding back now and he could taste it. God, the way she’d surrendered to him on the table had been … fucking mind-blowing.

He wanted more.

Gabriel kept one hand on her throat while he ran the other up the back of her thigh beneath her skirt and up farther over her bare butt. “This skirt,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want it off. The blouse, too.” Then he released her and stepped back. “Take it off while I watch.”

She’d gone pink but she didn’t hesitate or look away as she undid her blouse and took it off, dropping it over one of the dining chairs. Or as she undid her bra, the black lace falling away to reveal the smooth, alabaster skin of her breasts, her nipples pink and hard.

“Slower,” he ordered softly, unable to take his eyes off her because Jesus Christ, she was beautiful.

She obeyed, undoing the button then the zipper of her skirt in a slow, sensual movement, the black wool easing down her hips and thighs. Pushing it off, she stepped out of the fabric, then bent to undo the zippers on her calf-length black boots.

“Leave those on,” he said. “Naked with only the boots is sexy as fuck.”

Honor straightened, blue eyes meeting his, excitement and desire clear in her gaze. A warm, pink flush washed over her skin as he stepped closer to her, giving her beautiful body a slow, heated once-over.

God, he wanted to do bad things to her. Make her sob. Scream his name. Shake apart at the seams. Strip her down to nothing but sensation. Raw, animal feeling. Affect her the way she affected him.

Gabriel bent and picked his T-shirt up off the floor, folded it into a strip, then held it between his fists so she could see. He didn’t say anything. She’d know what it meant.

Her eyes widened but there wasn’t a trace of fear there, only a flare of something hot. She took a couple of steps toward him but didn’t wait for him to put it on her, taking it from his hands herself and placing the cotton over her eyes, blindfolding herself. Then she turned around, holding it on so he could tie it for her.

The simple gesture made his breath catch for reasons he didn’t fully understand. Frowning, he tried to ignore the sensation, tying the fabric into a firm knot at the back of her head. She stood motionless, her hands resting on the table in front of her for balance.

She was blind now.

He pulled her back against him, the soft heat of her pressing against his rapidly hardening cock. With her sight gone, her focus would be on nothing but sensation. Sensation he was going to give her.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he said in her ear, his hands resting lightly on her hips.

She did so, her arms coming up and back around his neck, her body arching in a graceful bow. He let his hands slide up her abdomen, feeling the delicate musculature of her torso and then the gentle weight of her breasts as he cupped them in his palms. Her nipples were hard and she trembled as he pinched them gently, making her gasp.

She was small, fragile. And yet … There was such strength to her. A stubborn will he both admired and found intensely irritating in equal measure. And doing this to her, having this effect on her, made him feel good in a way that had nothing to do with money or power.

He didn’t know why that was but he got off on it in a major way.

Sliding one hand down over her stomach, he let his fingers push through the black curls between her thighs, pinching her nipple hard as he brushed his finger over her clit. She moaned, arching into his hand, and he could feel her wetness on his fingers. Evidence of how much she wanted him.

Fuck, that made him feel good. That beautiful, sophisticated, and smart Honor wanted him. Even though he was stained and broken and tainted underneath.

Gabriel turned his head into the black silk of her hair. “Why do you let me do this to you?” He didn’t even know why he asked her, why he wanted to know. But it felt important to understand. “Why do you trust me?”

A tremor went through her. “Because … no one’s ever given to me what you have.”

“I haven’t given anything to you. Not a fucking thing.”

“That’s not true. You give me pleasure.”

He gave a hoarse laugh. “You can get that from any guy.”

“No, I can’t. You’re the only one who’s ever managed to get me out of my head. Who’s ever made me feel.” She took a ragged-sounding breath. “You’re the first man who even paid attention enough to … push me. To help me figure out what I want. When I’m with you I feel like I’m the center of the world. And … no one’s ever made me feel that before. So, that’s why I trust you.”

His chest felt tight, a raw feeling he didn’t want sitting right in the center. “You shouldn’t. I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t a good man.”

“That’s the other reason. You’ve never lied to me. You’ve always been honest about yourself. And I like that, too.”

The tight sensation became painful. Yeah, he’d never lied to her, but he hadn’t been honest either. And now that felt wrong. Now that made him feel … guilty.

Jesus, what a time for his conscience—which he’d thought dead long ago—to wake up. Like fucking Lazarus.

He shut his eyes, pushed two fingers into her, feeling her pussy stretch around him, hot and wet and tight. She writhed, gasping. He pinched her nipple again, hard. A punishment for trusting him when she shouldn’t. A punishment for making him feel like he should be equal to that trust. For making him
want
to be equal to it when he knew he couldn’t. Not when he’d been using her to get to her stepfather.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” he whispered into her ear as he thrust his fingers into her again. “Remember that.”

Her only reply was a moan, the curve of her butt pressing against his groin, driving his own desire higher.

God, he needed to stop thinking about all this shit. Especially when she was in his arms, shaking and moaning. The feel of her pussy around his fingers. He wanted a taste of the kind of freedom she was experiencing now. Freedom from his fucking anger. To be aware of nothing but pleasure. No holding back.

He withdrew his hand, picked her up in his arms and carried her upstairs and into his bedroom, putting her down onto the bed. She angled her head toward him as he looked down at her.

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“No.”

He crossed to his closet and pulled it open, finding what he wanted from the tie rack then coming back over to the bed. “Put your hands out.”

“To tie up? Again?”

“You don’t want it?”

“I didn’t say that. But … maybe the question should be why do you?”

He scowled. “I don’t need it.”

Again that angling of her head. “Don’t you?”

Uncomfortable awareness shifted inside him. Of her fingers on his stomach that morning in Vermont. A gentle touch that had made him feel … suffocated.

You don’t want her to touch you like that.

He stared at the length of silk in his hands. No, he didn’t. Because he wasn’t worthy of that kind of gentleness. He’d done bad things. There were deaths on his hands. Each one had been absolutely necessary in order to protect the people in his neighborhood. But he was a sinner. Destined for hell sure as fuck. And she was another sin to add to the list.