The Dare Collection April 2019. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
went quite still, like a big predator spotting prey, a kind of electricity gathering around him that made something inside me pulse with excitement despite my anger. ‘Curious about me?’
My mouth had gone dry, my quicksilver emotions changing in response, the anger beginning to fade, excitement building. ‘I wanted to find out more about you.’
‘What more?’
‘I don’t know.’ Another blush heated my cheeks. ‘Anything really.’
He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his astonishing blue eyes filling my vision. And I could smell his scent again, warm and sexy and masculine. ‘If you’ve gone through my stuff, there’ll be hell to pay.’ He moved his muscled body closer, his heat surrounding me. ‘I’m sorry about the toddler thing, but understand me: I wouldn’t allow my brothers up here, let alone the daughter of my enemy.’
My breath hitched.
He was so beautiful and I stared, my anger forgotten.
The sharp angle of his jaw was made even sharper by the faint black line of his beard and his cheekbones were to die for. The blade of his nose was straight, though I could see a few faint scars bisecting one eyebrow, scar tissue pulling at the corner of one eye.
It was a fascinating face. One that contained secrets and mysteries.
His black lashes were thick, a perfect frame for those startling pale blue eyes and the anger glowing in the depths of them.
I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. ‘I didn’t go into your things, I promise.’ God, I wanted to touch him again. To feel his hot skin and the prickle of his beard against my fingertips. ‘I only looked and then I...had to go smell your clothes a little.’
He blinked. ‘Smell my clothes?’
I wasn’t embarrassed any more, not now he was right in front of me, overwhelming me with his physical nearness. A bomb could have gone off behind him and I wouldn’t have noticed. ‘What can I say? You smell nice.’ Somehow, without my conscious control, my hand was lifting, my fingers brushing along his jaw, the delicious prickle of his whiskers against my fingertips. ‘And...you feel nice too.’
Ajax became statue-still. You’d think I’d shot him rather than simply touched him.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I should control myself better, especially when I’d already made him angry by intruding on his privacy.
But I couldn’t make myself stop. My fingertips grazed the sharp plane of his jaw, the feel of his skin sending short, intense pulses of excitement through me. This was so new, so different. It was wondrous.
The anger in his eyes changed, becoming something hotter. Brighter. ‘What are you doing?’ His voice was strange, deep and oddly husky.
‘Touching you.’ Helplessly, my gaze dropped to his fascinating mouth and I brushed the curve of his bottom lip. My God. It was so soft. Who knew there could be something soft about Ajax King? ‘Is that okay?’
He was so still and he was staring at me so fixedly.
Perhaps he didn’t want this. Perhaps he didn’t like it.
Control yourself, girl. You’re an embarrassment.
Dad’s voice echoed in my head like a warning and a part of me curled up in shame. Yet that wasn’t enough for me to take my hand away.
He was fascinating, addictive. A temptation too great for me to resist and it had been so long since I’d touched another person, so long since I’d had any physical contact with anyone at all, and I ached. I’d been so isolated and I was so lonely.
This was my chance to take something for myself.
Every other woman got to choose their own partner so why couldn’t I?
‘Stop,’ Ajax said in that strange voice.
Remember what happened the last time you made a choice.
Yes, I remembered. Cam.
The shame inside me grew larger. ‘I’m sorry.’ I snatched my hand away and looked at the floor. ‘I didn’t mean to touch you. I should have asked or something. I’m not very good at—’
‘Look at me, Imogen.’
I took a breath and looked, the note of command in his voice irresistible.
The heat in his gaze nearly flattened me.
Desire burned in his eyes. He liked me touching him. I could tell.
My breath caught.
‘It’s not that I don’t want you to touch me,’ he said roughly. ‘It’s that you shouldn’t. And you know why.’
Of course I did. The whole virginity thing.
‘But...you can kiss me, right?’ I stared up at him. ‘Dad wouldn’t know if you did.’
‘No,’ Ajax murmured. ‘No, he wouldn’t.’ His attention drifted, falling to my mouth. ‘But what I want doesn’t matter.’
That puzzled me. Why would he think that what he wanted didn’t matter? And what did he want anyway?
‘Doesn’t it?’ I asked. ‘Why not?’
Somehow he was closer than he had been a moment ago, though I hadn’t seen him move. He still had his hand wrapped around my arm and I was so aware of it I was sure I could feel every line of his fingerprints on my skin.
He didn’t answer, his gaze lifting to clash with mine again.
There was a pressure in the air around us, the relentless build of attraction getting stronger and stronger.
‘Please,’ I heard myself say. ‘I’ve never been kissed before. Not properly. And I... I’d like my first proper kiss to be with someone I want.’
He stared at me another long, aching second.
Then he closed the gap between us and covered my mouth with his.
Shock held me motionless.
I’d thought he wouldn’t do it, but he had, and now Ajax King was kissing me. Those beautiful lips I’d traced with my finger mere moments ago were now on mine and they felt...oh, God, amazing.
He must have been drinking coffee at some point, the taste dark and rich, combining with a heady flavour that was all Ajax. It was delicious. I couldn’t get enough.
The kiss was hard and yet somehow soft at the same time, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth, getting me to open for him. And I shuddered in helpless reaction, lightning striking all over my skin, sending goosebumps racing everywhere, leaving me helpless to do anything but give him what he wanted.
This was nothing like the brief brush of his lips in the car a few days earlier. This was as similar to that as a candle flame was to a forest fire.
His tongue pushed into my mouth, beginning to explore me slowly and deliberately, and with so much heat I began to shake.
I pressed my palms to his hard chest, gripping onto the warm cotton of his T-shirt, holding on tight. A deep moan of pleasure escaped me.
I didn’t know what had made him change his mind, but I didn’t want to question it. I just wanted more.
And he seemed to understand, moving so I was pinned between him and the closet door, deepening the kiss, controlling it with such effortless mastery I nearly swooned.
Correction, actual swooning was already happening, my knees weak, my hands clenching even tighter in the cotton of his shirt just to stay upright.
I couldn’t control myself any more. It had become impossible. I’d been without physical closeness for so long, thinking about him constantly for two days straight, craving his touch so badly I couldn’t stop.
I