Falcon’s Captive by Vonna Harper Page B

you?”
    “Hmm.”
    “That sound. You don’t have any idea what it does to me, do you?”
    Too much pressure and muscles short-circuiting, a climax building. Bucking under him, she tried to kick.
    Shaking his head at her futile attempts, he flicked a finger over her nipple.
    “No!”
    “Why should I want to stop? You are perfect; absolutely perfect.”
    Whether she perceived his words as a compliment didn’t matter because the pressure against her breast now radiated throughout her. Once more he was laying claim to her and taking her deep into herself. She heard herself sigh.
    “That’s right, wild one. Let it out.”
    “Let—what?”
    “Everything you’re feeling.”
    She couldn’t, couldn’t! That much honesty would leave her unbelievably vulnerable and lost. Desperate to take back pieces of herself, she struggled to sit up. Instead of pushing her down again, he switched hands so his right now cradled her breast. Resistance died.
    “I’m not done with you, don’t you understand that? Everything I want to do to you is going to happen.”
    Unable to determine whether he was threatening or promising, she collapsed but kept her hands on her chest instead of over her head as they’d been earlier. Her thumb brushed his.
    “What’s this?” he asked, rotating his hand a little and abrading her breast. “Maybe you think you can pull me off you.”
    “I won’t let you hurt—”
    “Have I said anything about pain?”
    “You said I can’t stop you from—”
    “From doing not just what I want, but what we both do. No, don’t deny it.” His mouth twitching again, he ran his left hand over her ribs. His touch was too light, too sensual, full not of threat but promise. Because he still claimed ownership of her breast, she had no choice but to acknowledge and accept everything he was doing. Inch by inch, rib bone by rib bone, he traced a path she sensed would only end one place: at her pussy.
    “No, ah, no!” She again tried to heave herself into a position only to fail once more. If only she could straighten her legs! That way she wouldn’t be so off-balance.
    “I love the way you struggle. The way your breasts move when you’re gasping for breath, the look in your eyes.”
    “What look?” Was the Falcon still around?
    “A little fear. Nervousness. Uncertainty. And something else: anticipation.”
    He was wrong, damn him, wrong! She wasn’t looking forward to being manhandled, and she certainly didn’t want to have sex with him.
    Did she?
    Sex, fucking hot and hard, ecstasy raging through her and flying. Alive. So alive.
    Although his hand had stopped moving while they were talking, it had occasionally twitched, which added to her inability to concentrate. And when his fingers headed toward the valley where her belly lay, she broke out in a sweat and clawed ineffectively at the hand covering her breast.
    “Is that all you’re capable of?” he asked.
    Determined to rise to the challenge, she slapped him. If she’d caused him pain, he gave no indication.
    “Whatever you are,” he told her, “it isn’t a warrior. You’ll never get free this way.”
    Did she want her freedom back? Right now the only thing she was certain of was that he was lightly drawing his nails over her belly and pelvic bones as if painting them. Shuddering, she sucked in a breath even deeper than the last one. She’d lost command of her body to a man who had no right to it, who knew nothing about her. But although she should be battling him with every bit of strength she possessed, resistance would have to wait until her awareness no longer centered around him.
    “You’re no innocent.” Even with her head turned from him, she knew he was staring at her. “This is no virgin’s body. Because it knows what it’s capable of.”
    Much as she wanted to retort that he couldn’t possibly understand what she was experiencing, she couldn’t force the denial past her lips. Her cunt was coated with proof of her arousal. More