Page 59 of Dark Lover

Sam paused beside the chair where he sat. Before she even looked at the couple on the screen, he seized her wrist. “How many times have ye watched?”

Sam wet her lips, trying to speak, but she couldn’t. His hand was fire on her skin. His face was hard and tight, strained. Sam looked at the monitor and inhaled, her heart thundering, her thighs impossibly tight.

He was rubbing that steel ring over her, everywhere, with his massive and broad length.

He hit the Pause button.

Sam stared at his hand. His knuckles were white. She looked lower, at the huge bulge in his jeans. It had to hurt. But that was okay, because she hurt, too, and she’d been hurting for a while…Then she looked at the screen. “Too bad the cameras were mounted. A zoom shot would have been great,” she said thickly.

He slowly looked up at her. “Oh, I can zoom in.”

She wet her lips. “We’re going to a party.”

“The party’s right here.”

It was hard to remember why she wanted to make him pant for her—why she’d decided to hold out until he did. He caught her hips and pulled her closer, then smiled up at her. For one moment, Sam was certain he was going to move his face against the jersey of her dress, between her thighs, against her sex.

“You can come with me, or I’ll go alone.”

“Threats.” He released her and stood, reaching for the zipper on his jeans. Sam’s heart lurched. He slid his hand over the huge bulge there, watching her, then snagged the zipper. He slowly lowered it, his gaze on her face.

Sam knew she was fixated. She could hear her own heavy, wild heartbeat. She should pretend nonchalance, but she couldn’t look up.

She felt his mouth curve. She knew he smiled, and knew there was amusement, too. His arousal sprang free of the jeans. The steel ring, pierced low on the head there, glinted.

She felt her thighs clench, her knees buckle.

“What’s wrong? Will ye faint?” he taunted.

She was dizzy, she thought, inhaling sharply. He made a soft sound, took her hand and slid it over the shaft, held it there. Sam tried to breathe and failed. The ring lay on the edge of her thumb now.

He caught the hem of her dress. “I’m not leaving this room,” he said. “Neither are ye. Not until I say so.”

It was so hard to speak. It was even harder to think. “I don’t want to go anywhere,” Sam heard herself say thickly. She ran her hand down his entire length. He was silent, throbbing heavily there. Her own body was on the verge of implosion. She wondered if the ring hurt. There was a fine line between pleasure and pain.

Too late, as she pushed up at the ring, making him gasp, she realized she was not the one in control. She was lusting insanely for him now.

“Dinna stop,” he warned, tugging the hem of her dress up her thighs.

She somehow tore her gaze upward.

He smiled arrogantly at her. Triumph was reflected in his eyes.

“Sonuvabitch,” she managed. He had won.

“Did ye really think to play me with a sex tape?” he murmured. “Who’s being played now?”

Sam looked from his gorgeous, hot eyes to his full, slightly open mouth. She cursed. She bent down, gripped him more firmly, and pushed her tongue at the ring. He went still; she cried out. Then she started to taste him, the ring against her tongue.

His entire body trembled and he jerked convulsively. “How many times did ye watch the tape?”

She sucked hard, unable to speak. The ring fluttered against her tongue.

He tightened his grasp. “How many times?”

She choked off a moan. The pressure was building impossibly now. She began to tremble, her cheek pressed against him now, the ring digging into her skin. “Do you really want me to answer—and stop?” she managed hoarsely.

His hand moved to the bottom of her chin, and he forced her to look up at him. “Ye’ll never want a toy again.”