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“Never.” I shake my head, disbelief and defiance mingling in my gaze as I meet his unwavering stare. “I will never be yours. I will never consent to this—twisted—arrangement. You may have the power and the wealth, but you will never have me.”
A dangerous smile curls his lips. “We’ll see about that, Fiona. For now, this is your home. And I alone rule it.”
He grabs my shoulders, spinning me till I’m facing away from him. My stomach digs into the table's edge, my hands splaying across its top. His palm presses along my lower back, smoothing up my spine as he flattens me against the table. The front of his powerful legs press into the back of mine.
I reach around, trying to swat him away. “Stop! No! What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make sure you understand my rules. Never run from me. And never, ever leave this property. There are dangerous men outside our walls, ones that would love nothing more than to capture a virgin like you, taking her innocence.”
Hot hands run up the backs of my bare thighs. Chill bumps rise all over my flesh. My pussy does a hot, wet, clenching thing I’ve never experienced, heat swirling in my womb as he touches me. He’s flipping the hem of my skirt up over my lower back. Cool air rushes over my skin.
“What are you doing!” I shriek.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you? Do you understand how dangerous it would be for you to leave alone?”
The thought he plants in my mind elicits fear and makes my stomach turn. “Yes,” I hiss between clenched teeth.
“Such pretty panties. Pink. Just as I suspected.”
No man has ever seen this much of my thighs, much less my panties. I moan in humiliation as he smooths his rough hand over my ass, a callous on his finger catching the thin material and tugging at my panties. My stomach clenches from the sensation of having him touching me where I’ve never been touched, seeing things no one has seen before, my panties exposed to him.
Pink panties. So childish. So innocent. Just like me. I’m naive as well, thinking I could run from a man like him.
What will he do to me?
How far will this go before he lets me leave this room?
He lifts his hand, bringing it back down across my ass with a stinging spank. The pain shocks me, the smarting flichterin’ over my skin like sparks from an explosion. I bite my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of crying out.
“Such a pretty ass you have, Fiona. Such pale skin. I look forward to seeing the way my handprint rises on your skin.” Starting at my waist, he smooths a flattened hand up the ridge of my spine as he leans down, stretching over me, the heat and strength of his body pressing against me, his chest covering my back as he moves his mouth to my ear.
His other hand wanders, the tip of his finger dragging a light trail along the leg band of my panties. So close to my pussy, now clenching with heat at the nearness of his touch. “Should I wait? To take off these panties? To see everything my wife has to offer me?” The tip of that finger slips just past the elastic of my panties.
So close.
As my situation sinks in, I realize I am now entangled in a dangerous game of power and desire, where the stakes are higher than anything I could have imagined. But deep within me a flicker of defiance stirs, a spark of resistance that refuses to be extinguished.
I twist my face around to meet his eye. “Don’t you dare!”
“Or what?” He gives a dark chuckle, sliding the hand on my back further up to my neck, gathering the hair between his fingers. He takes the opportunity to press his lips against me, a harsher kiss this time. My cheek pinned to the table, my hair in his hand, I’m unable to pull away, and the tip of his tongue slips between my lips, caressing my own.
I can feel his hunger in this kiss.
Callum Burnes. The massive Viking man that all the girls on the island dream of, and he wants me so badly I can taste it as his lips move against mine. It turns me on to have this sliver of power over him even though he’s in control of my entire body, needing only a quarter of his strength to pin me down, to dominate me like this.
I dinnae know why he wants me, but he does.
The heat of his mouth mingles with mine. The warm wetness of his kiss has arousal gathering between my thighs. I try to resist his kiss, but to my shame, I find my tongue hungrily swiping against his.
This is nothing like the sweet kisses in the American Hallmark movies Carol Ann and I sighed over watching together over Christmas break. Or the chaste kiss my friend Kitt shared with her husband Bayne on their wedding day. Or the kisses I’ve seen couples share on the island.
This is a kiss of dominance, desire, and danger.
I’m crossing a line of fire, and I’m already feeling the lick of the flames, knowing I’m going to get burned. I never should have kissed him back, but I’m in deep now, and his fingers are exploring, crossing their own line, dipping into my heat.
“Oh. Uh. No! Yes. No!” My palms flatten against the tabletop, damp from fear, my belly digging into the hard edge of the table. I turn my face so he can’t kiss me, pressing my forehead into the cool wood as I lose all control, no longer able to deny him.
This feeling…
