His Passion (By His Command #4) by Ana W. Fawkes Page A

calm, of course.
    “Oh, Isabella Grace,” he said.
    His mouth came forward and we shared a post
murder kiss. His lips were tender but his tongue was aggressive,
sending hints that our lust was far from over. If anything, perhaps
it had grown more. The man who had tried to put his hands on me was
dead. Jonathan had conquered an old enemy… a man that not only
tried to harm me but stole money from him. Money, sex, and power.
The lifeblood of Jonathan Black.
    Now he had it all again.
    I kissed back at him, my hands curled, my
nails digging into the palm of my hands. I wanted to touch
Jonathan. I wanted to have him. My body was on fire, but I resisted
my urges for his needs. His command would be final, pleasure or
not. As long as he touched me, took me with him, looked at me with
his dark and dominant eyes, my life could go on.
    His body started to touch mine, offering a
thrust on that made me whimper. The sound echoed up and down the
steps, carrying for a few seconds before dying out. I could feel
the thickness of Jonathan already matched perfectly between my
legs. As he started to breathe heavier, the kissing getting hotter,
his tongue in my mouth, tasting my lips, his lips closing over
mine, opening again to repeat, I started to believe he was going to
take me right there against the cold wall in the stairwell.
    He finally broke the kiss and let out a
growl. His eyes flickered and he looked enraged enough to kill
again. His left hand squeezed hard on my hip while his right hand
let go and I watched as he made a fist. Our relationship thus far
had no boundaries but as Jonathan wound up with his fist, I
wondered just how far no boundaries could go.
    The large fist came forward and all I heard
was the loud voice of Jonathan’s father and the concern in the
man’s voice as he told me how dangerous Jonathan could be. How I
should run – right now! The fist flew past my hair and the
thud of Jonathan’s knuckles against stone echoed. The bone
crunching sound made me cringe and gasp. I opened my mouth but knew
it wasn’t my place to speak right then.
    Jonathan took his hand back and looked at
his red knuckle. His middle knuckle had a small cut on it, forming
a tiny bit of blood. He used his other hand to wipe the blood
away.
    “I want you to have something,” Jonathan
said. He reached into the pocket on his jacket and handed me
another cell phone. “Keep that safe, just in case something
happens. There’s only one number in the phone. Mine. The only one
you need.” His hands shot out at me, taking my face in his hands.
His eyes were wide and wild. A man fully capable of murder. A man
fully capable of endless pleasure and erotic command. “I’m the only
one you need.”
    “I know that,” I said. “I swear to you…
Jonathan…”
    “Call me Mr. Black,” he said. “Until I tell
you not to.”
    “Yes,” I said.
    The command pouring from him was greater
than I’ve ever seen.
    His thumbs gently massaged my face while we
remained in silence for a few more seconds. He took deep breaths as
though he was inhaling me.
    “I’m memorizing you,” Jonathan said. “I
don’t need to, but I want to. You are my purpose now, Isabella
Grace, and for that, I have something to do.”
    After moving his hands from my face, he
reached back into his jacket. I saw something I wish I didn’t see.
I saw Jonathan pulling a gun from his jacket and pointing it at me.
I thought about being murdered by the man I had fallen for… with my
heart and his command. An attempt at romance came as I pictured
Jonathan killing me, and himself, at the same time. Then it would
all end together, we would end together.
    But then I realized that would be
impossible.
    Jonathan would never relinquish his power
that easily. He was a billionaire CEO, a man who could create a
global company and then murder a man. A man who had no problem with
blindfolding me, handcuffing me, placing me into sexual
circumstances that opened me in ways I never thought