The Secret in Room 823. Dani Collins

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ had to batter herself against so she knew it was strong enough to protect her.

      He walked away and she hung her head. A distant voice inside her wondered what the hell she was doing. They were nearing a year of these monthly assignations and she didn’t even know how it had started or continued or would finish.

      Well, she rather knew how it would finish. This week had been a fresh assault from her family, from Great Granny on down to her young cousin, all asking when she would marry. I’m twenty-three, she wanted to scream. Ask in another ten years.

      But eligible men would be paraded before her and she would choose one, sooner rather than later if her parents had anything to do with it.

      And this would be over.

      A pang of deep anguish opened in her centre, making her fight a wrenching sob of loss.

      ***

      As Hayes drew the nylon rope across the room, his hand trembled and he missed the hook twice, gaze too fixed on Lady Hamilton-Smythe’s ass to look away and see what he was doing. Male hunger—desperation really—had his attention returning again and again to the shadow where he knew she was wet and sweet and hot. For him.

      His head swam with the knowledge, weakening his knees and making him want to worship at her feet. On that level, he was a slave to her and the only solace to his pride was the fact she wasn’t aware of how much power she held over him. His days and weeks revolved around the moment when he would book into this room and wait for her.

      The way her head hung and her spine bowed between her shoulder blades bothered him, though. She was a complete bitch most of the time, so high on her horse he felt absolutely no compunction in bringing her down a few notches with these little games she enjoyed so much. Really enjoyed. She screamed into a pillow or the palm of his hand every single time.

      That’s all she was here for, he reminded himself. Mind-blowing orgasms.

      Not that he’d started out wanting anything more than a bit of experimentation himself. Hell, at twenty-five he was a man with acres of wild oats. He’d been intrigued enough to go along with her outrageous suggestion for the thrill alone. How many other men could say they’d had such an offer, from a Lady no less?

      Not that he could tell a soul. The sorts of play they engaged in were the kind you only revealed in a memoir to be published a hundred years after both parties’ deaths.

      A frustrating extra thing had crept into their scenes, though. Curiosity had become concern. Amusement was now affection, even though, he reminded himself again and again, she was a total bitch.

      He really shouldn’t have any craving to see more of her, but once a month was not enough. Not anymore.

      That was the real source of his irritation today. That’s what had had him pacing in front of the hotel room door, tempted to watch down the hallway to ensure she was coming. He hated this four week waiting period, hated that he was her dirty little secret, hated that she had summed him up as not good enough for her without knowing everything about who he was.

      Most of all, he hated that she was seeing other men. Did she imagine he didn’t read the papers? He wrote for them, for Christ’s sake.

      But that was his burden to carry and apparently she had her own, one so heavy on her slender shoulders they looked ready to buckle under the weight.

      Poor little rich girl, he thought, wishing he could dismiss her so easily, but from the first call in her posh accent, when he’d half-expected he was about to be blackmailed, he’d been unable to be anything but intrigued and enthralled.

      And insanely aroused.

      He forced himself to finish clipping the hooks properly, thinking a wry, safety first. Then he said in a voice that came from entirely too deep a place in his chest, ‘Come here, Gwen.’

      She pushed herself off the wall and turned, looked at him through the nylon lines of a spider web that he’d strung across the room. Her gaze followed the supports to the bolts in the walls and didn’t miss the shavings on the floor below each end. Yes, he’d vandalised the hotel room, drilling into the studs with weight bearing screws and bolts. He’d actually made a special trip into this room mid-month to plan and measure everything out. It had been tricky, given the layout of the room and the proximity of the bed, but once he’d seen the contraption at the BDSM shop, he’d been determined to try it.

      She eyed it with apprehension and excitement quivering her lashes. Her thighs twitched together, like she was capturing a release of her honeyed wetness, reacting in that deliciously uncontrolled way that threatened to kill him every time they came together.

      He fought a grin of pleasure that she was as titillated as he was.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4RNzRXhpZgAATU0AKgAAAAgABwESAAMAAAABAAEAAAEaAAUAAAABAAAAYgEbAAUAAAABAAAA agEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAExAAIAAAAgAAAAcgEyAAIAAAAUAAAAkodpAAQAAAABAAAAqAAAANQALcbA AAAnEAAtxsAAACcQQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIENTNiAoTWFjaW50b3NoKQAyMDE0OjA1OjIyIDEw OjA2OjI1AAAAAAOgAQADAAAAAf//AACgAgAEAAAAAQAABnagAwAEAAAAAQAACigAAAAAAAAABgED AAMAAAABAAYAAAEaAAUAAAABAAABIgEbAAUAAAABAAABKgEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAIBAAQAAAABAAAB MgICAAQAAAABAAASOQAAAAAAAABIAAAAAQAAAEgAAAAB/9j/7QAMQWRvYmVfQ00AAf/uAA5BZG9i ZQBkgAAAAAH/2wCEAAwICAgJCAwJCQwR

СКАЧАТЬ