the bedroom. Yes, she was. But as a cop, not a sex-starved maniac. Which unfortunately, is what she felt like at the moment.
At the moment ?
Well, since touching down in Los Magia.
She crossed the room, forcing her gaze to stay away from the latex costume on the bed. She’d go to the mysteriously familiar man’s suite ready to do her job: jeans, a no-nonsense t-shirt, sneakers and her cuffs. Clothes she could easily take him down—
A sharp knock on her door brought her feet to a still. She stared at it across the space, her heartbeat tripling. Who was on the other side?
Could be anyone in this place .
A sudden burst of irritation erupted in her chest. “Bloody Hell, O’Lauchlan. Just answer the bloody door, will you. You’re acting like a rookie.”
Tugging the edge of her towel tight (any tighter and she’d have trouble breathing.) she strode to the door, scooping up her cuffs as she did so. Just in case.
“Yes?” she almost snapped, swinging the door wide.
“I am impatient,” the man from the blackjack table said, exotic accent turning the words to a caress. Piercing black eyes held her frozen. “And seeing how you answer the door, I am glad for the failing.”
Without another word, he stepped through the door and swung it closed behind him. He stared down at her, his heat grazing her damp skin.
God, I’ve done this before .
The thought flashed through Katrina’s mind, seconds before a powerful wave of déjà vu claimed her. She had done this before. With this very man. She was sure of it. But how? Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at him, refusing to move despite his disturbing invasion of her personal space. “How do I know you?”
A slight grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “If I recall correctly, I won the bet, yes?”
Katrina shoved her hands on her hips, the cuffs clinking as they struck her body. “Do you really think I’m going to let you do whatever you want to me?”
The black eyes seemed to ignite with a smouldering flame. “Yes. I do.”
He moved. Fast. Damn fast. His hands closed around her wrists and, with a speed that made Katrina’s head spin, her pulse quicken and her pussy clench, he shoved her against the wall.
“Hey.”
The word burst from her lips with her breath. Her arse smashed against the wall the second his hips smashed into hers, his cock a long, thick shaft that ground the soft curve of her mons with arrogant force. He yanked her arms above her head and pinned her wrists to the wall in an inescapable grip, her cuffs rapping against her knuckles.
Cream flooded her sex. Hot eager cream. As hot as the shame burning her cheeks.
Stop him .
She lashed out, thrusting her knee upward. Aiming for—
He moved again. Faster. Snaring both her wrists in one fist and hooking his now free hand under her rising leg. With a brutal tug, he yanked her leg higher, redirecting its violent swing until her inner thigh wrapped around his hip and his groin—hot and rigid and demanding—pressed directly on her spread sex.
Oh, God …
Katrina bucked. “Get off me.”
Black eyes bored into hers. “No.” He jerked her leg higher, his fingers digging into the underside of her knee as he rolled his hips once. Twice.
Liquid hunger consumed her. She stared into his face, breath after ragged breath making her chest rise and fall in rapid motion. Her nipples, still covered by thick towelling, puckered into rock-hard nubs, pushing against his chest with a friction that made her pussy constrict again.
Another wave of déjà vu rolled over her and she sucked in a swift breath. Oh, Dear Jesus .
“You are wet, ma cher ,” he murmured, staring into her eyes. He pushed his hips forward slightly, the solid length of his cock, barely contained by tailored black trousers, branding her sex. “But I will make you wetter.”
He smoothed his hand from the back of her knee higher up her thigh until he cupped her arse cheek, his fingers feathering the swollen lips of her pussy.
A
At the moment ?
Well, since touching down in Los Magia.
She crossed the room, forcing her gaze to stay away from the latex costume on the bed. She’d go to the mysteriously familiar man’s suite ready to do her job: jeans, a no-nonsense t-shirt, sneakers and her cuffs. Clothes she could easily take him down—
A sharp knock on her door brought her feet to a still. She stared at it across the space, her heartbeat tripling. Who was on the other side?
Could be anyone in this place .
A sudden burst of irritation erupted in her chest. “Bloody Hell, O’Lauchlan. Just answer the bloody door, will you. You’re acting like a rookie.”
Tugging the edge of her towel tight (any tighter and she’d have trouble breathing.) she strode to the door, scooping up her cuffs as she did so. Just in case.
“Yes?” she almost snapped, swinging the door wide.
“I am impatient,” the man from the blackjack table said, exotic accent turning the words to a caress. Piercing black eyes held her frozen. “And seeing how you answer the door, I am glad for the failing.”
Without another word, he stepped through the door and swung it closed behind him. He stared down at her, his heat grazing her damp skin.
God, I’ve done this before .
The thought flashed through Katrina’s mind, seconds before a powerful wave of déjà vu claimed her. She had done this before. With this very man. She was sure of it. But how? Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at him, refusing to move despite his disturbing invasion of her personal space. “How do I know you?”
A slight grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “If I recall correctly, I won the bet, yes?”
Katrina shoved her hands on her hips, the cuffs clinking as they struck her body. “Do you really think I’m going to let you do whatever you want to me?”
The black eyes seemed to ignite with a smouldering flame. “Yes. I do.”
He moved. Fast. Damn fast. His hands closed around her wrists and, with a speed that made Katrina’s head spin, her pulse quicken and her pussy clench, he shoved her against the wall.
“Hey.”
The word burst from her lips with her breath. Her arse smashed against the wall the second his hips smashed into hers, his cock a long, thick shaft that ground the soft curve of her mons with arrogant force. He yanked her arms above her head and pinned her wrists to the wall in an inescapable grip, her cuffs rapping against her knuckles.
Cream flooded her sex. Hot eager cream. As hot as the shame burning her cheeks.
Stop him .
She lashed out, thrusting her knee upward. Aiming for—
He moved again. Faster. Snaring both her wrists in one fist and hooking his now free hand under her rising leg. With a brutal tug, he yanked her leg higher, redirecting its violent swing until her inner thigh wrapped around his hip and his groin—hot and rigid and demanding—pressed directly on her spread sex.
Oh, God …
Katrina bucked. “Get off me.”
Black eyes bored into hers. “No.” He jerked her leg higher, his fingers digging into the underside of her knee as he rolled his hips once. Twice.
Liquid hunger consumed her. She stared into his face, breath after ragged breath making her chest rise and fall in rapid motion. Her nipples, still covered by thick towelling, puckered into rock-hard nubs, pushing against his chest with a friction that made her pussy constrict again.
Another wave of déjà vu rolled over her and she sucked in a swift breath. Oh, Dear Jesus .
“You are wet, ma cher ,” he murmured, staring into her eyes. He pushed his hips forward slightly, the solid length of his cock, barely contained by tailored black trousers, branding her sex. “But I will make you wetter.”
He smoothed his hand from the back of her knee higher up her thigh until he cupped her arse cheek, his fingers feathering the swollen lips of her pussy.
A
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