Long moments later, he tore his lips from hers. “We’re even now. You’ve thoroughly tormented me.”
“I’d only gotten started,” she hissed, her voice filled with passion. She wanted to kiss him again.
“I am going to make you come so many times you won’t remember your name. Just mine.”
His mouth claimed hers in a dominating, hot kiss that left Nicole no room to resist—not that she wanted to. This man’s kisses had the unique ability to arouse her entire body. Pure unadulterated lust licked at her limbs, his promises playing in her mind and delivering an extra thrill. Constantine had claimed control, which belonged to her, and she should care. She would care. Right after this kiss.
He seemed to read her mind, tearing his lips from hers. “Nicole,” he whispered, his jaw sliding along hers, lips by her ear. “Since we’re even now. No more hiding behind that control of yours. It’s mine now. You’re mine now.”
Chapter Eight
CONSTANTINE WANTED Nicole’s surrender, and he planned to have it this night. He swallowed her objections with another hot kiss, savoring the sweet taste of her. His fingers sprawled on her back, caressing their way over her side, and upward, until he cupped her breast. His thumb slid over her nipple, back and forth, and she rewarded his actions with a soft moan. A moan that spurred his hunger for another one. Yet, he had one thing to attend to first. One absolute must.
Reluctantly, he set Nicole down, driven by the incentive to strip her naked. The barriers had to go, both in the form of her clothing and her games. He’d studied her file. He knew she’d hit the sex clubs with her ex, but he also knew she’d left all that behind years ago. Had covered herself in a prim-and-proper façade—the untouchable ice princess. The idea of making her melt thickened his shaft, arousing him with the sweetness of her submission.
He reached for the buttons of her blouse, impatience making him forgo the effort. “Take it off before I rip it off.” He leveled her in a steady look. “And don’t think I won’t do it. You successfully achieved your goal.” Constantine stroked his shaft. “I’m on edge. I want you in a bad way.”
She took a step back from him and knelt down, removing her boots, her gaze going to his hand as he stroked himself, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I could have taken care of that for you.”
“You will,” he said with certainty. “My way.”
She stood up, boots and socks discarded, her toes painted a light, delicate pink. Everything about her body was feminine and perfect, soft in all the right spots. But then there was that hard exterior she hid her emotions behind. That had to go. He wanted her in full submission, which meant the walls had to come down.
“What if I don’t want to do it your way?”
He quirked a brow at that. “You have something against pleasure? Because, that’s what I intend for both of us.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes, his response obviously taking her a bit off guard. She hesitated, and then brought her fingers to the silk buttons of her blouse, working them with speed and agility. Her actions, whether she knew it or not, offered her first bit of submission. She’d agreed to allow him his way. They were already making progress.
Without preamble, Nicole finished her task. She slid the blouse off her shoulders, leaving her in a damp, sheer, pink bra that clung to her breasts, the red pert nipples beneath the material exposed for his hungry eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t stop there. In less than a minute, her slacks were gone, giving him a delicious view of her long legs and creamy white skin. Next came the panties, the tangle of blond curls drawing his gaze to the V of her body, and he wondered if she was wet—no, he knew she was. He wondered how she would taste, how she would feel wrapped around his cock.
That thought skidded to a temporary halt as that sheer bra flew to the ground, allowing him to worship those full, high breasts with a more thorough examination.
“I’m all yours, Agent Vega.” Her hands went in the air, to her sides, a come-and-get-me invitation. “What are you going to do with me?”
A smile touched his lips with that challenge. Somehow, she’d given in to his demands but still managed to make her own. Damn, this woman got to him.
“On the mattress,” he ordered.
Her eyes didn’t leave his face. One second, two—she seemed to consider this path of submission that she was treading down. Then, as if she’d decided it, she said, “All right,” and settled on the mattress. She sat with her hands behind her, breasts thrust forward, legs slightly parted in a tease of a pose.