In the Dark by P.G. Forte

hand slid across her bare back, took hold of her hair and tugged. She let her head fall back as his open mouth ghosted, warm and wet, over her neck, as though he was searching for just the right spot. Her heart seemed to stop. The night grew still. Even the breeze seemed to settle as she waited, breathless for…something.
    It never came.
    Instead, Conrad’s mouth reversed course, traveling back up her neck to her ear where he whispered, “So much sweetness. It would be a shame to rush what should be savored. You’ll spend the night with me.”
    That stopped her—almost. Stifling a gasp, she pushed out of his arms. His eyes blazed red-gold in the light reflecting from the torches and his expression was one of faint surprise, as though her actions startled him, as though he hadn’t been expecting her to show even this much resistance.
    Why shouldn’t she resist? He was The Unknown personified—so much older, worldly, cultured…different. So very unexpected.
    On the other hand, why would she resist? Wasn’t it for exactly this reason she’d left the no-name town she’d grown up in, vowing to put her past, with all its unhappiness, behind her? Isn’t this why she’d come to the city—why she’d come here tonight, to this very house—to experience life, to taste freedom, to embrace the unknown?
    â€œAll right. I’ll stay.” Smiling, she melted back into his embrace and lifted her face for his kiss. It was even headier this time around, darker somehow. Definitely intoxicating. It made her head spin and her eyes grow heavy. When her knees gave way he lifted her into his arms, holding her lightly, as though she weighed nothing at all.
    â€œJust so you know,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, as he carried her back toward the house, “I wasn’t offering you a choice.”
    A choice of what , she wondered, lazily. But, nestled safely in his arms, she didn’t care to pursue it.
    She did know one moment of anxiety, however, when he stopped in the hallway to speak to Armand. There was something in the way the other man looked at her. The predatory gleam in his eyes, the subtle flaring of his nostrils, sent shivers running down her spine and had her closing her eyes again, more tightly than before. Had her pressing her face into the silk of Conrad’s shirt, curling instinctively closer to him. Like the rabbits she’d once watched in the fields back home, hunkering down on the ground when a hawk passed overhead.
    When they started up the stairs leading to the mansion’s upper floors she roused herself enough to ask, “Where are we going?”
    â€œI’m taking you to my room.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her, as though awaiting her reaction.
    She blinked in surprise. “Your room? Do you live here?”
    â€œI do,” he replied, his smile even more evident. “I own this house. This happening scene into which you’ve stumbled belongs to me. And, you, my sweet, little uninvited one, are about to pay the penalty for trespassing.”
    â€œThings too terrible to mention,” she murmured, trying to think back to what they’d said earlier, causing Conrad to almost miss a step.
    His eyebrows rose as he stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “I sincerely hope not. Is that how it seems to you?”
    Yawning, she closed her eyes and nestled closer. “No. You said that. I said it was like a dream.”

Chapter Four
    â€œStand there,” Conrad instructed as he set the girl down in the middle of his bedroom. She swayed on her feet, blinking sleepily at him, but he wasn’t worried. He knew she wouldn’t fall—not unless, or until, he wanted her to. Still unwilling to rush, he took his time as he removed his clothes, enjoying the tension, the hunger, the view. Enjoying the knowledge he would soon be satisfying not one but two of his