wedged beneath her butt and the mattress and discovered he’d manacled her wrists above her head with his hands. His face against her neck, he nibbled kisses down her throat and tried to use his chin to part the front edges of her suit. The conflicting sensations of pain from the book digging into her and pleasure from the feel of his lips along her throat collided. Uttering little, breathless grunts of pain and pleasure, she wiggled her hips, trying to move the book from beneath her or move her hips off of the book.
“My book!” she managed to gasp out just about the time he succeeded in parting the mesh closure at her neck.
He released his grip on one of her wrists, slid his hand down and dragged the book from under her, shoving it to one side. The moment he let go of her wrist, Bronte grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. Ignoring her tug at his scalp, Gideon hooked his fingers in the front of the uniform and parted the closure to her waist. Squeezing one breast between his thumb and fingers, he opened his mouth over the tip and sucked until her eyeballs nearly rolled back in her head as fire spread through her in dizzying waves. She thrashed beneath him, struggling half-heartedly to fight him off, but Gabriel had already revved her engines and left her wide open to the needs simmering just below the surface of her consciousness. She was fighting a losing battle the moment Gideon reawakened the only semi-dormant pleasure receptors in her brain. Her brain instantly began churning out serotonin in debilitating, will decimating volumes.
By the time Gideon ceased to tug at her nipple with his mouth and tease the aching nub with the flick of his tongue, she felt like one giant, raw nerve ending, as if her whole body pulsed in concert with the frantic rhythm of her heart, threatening to explode each time the organ contracted and sent another surge of blood boiling through her veins. Weak, completely disoriented by the intoxicating drug pumping through her system, it was more her instinct for self-preservation than her rapidly dwindling willpower that made her grab at his arms as Gideon speared his hands beneath the shoulders of her suit and peeled it down, binding her arms to her sides with the fabric.
He shoved his arms beneath her shoulders, lifting them to meet his lips. Her neck too weak to hold up her head, her head tipped back against the mattress, arching her throat to his assault. He anointed the tender flesh there with open mouthed kisses, traced the frantic pulse along the side of her neck with his tongue, and moved lower to familiarize himself with the flesh he’d exposed to the mind drugging assault of his mouth. Feeding the blaze he’d already kindled, he moved from her throat, across her collar bone from shoulder to shoulder, blazed a path along the upper slope of her breasts and then climbed the column of her throat to nip at her chin and the line of her jaw.
She lost her breath when his mouth clamped over hers in hungry possession, sucked his into her lungs sharply as he filled her mouth with his essence—the taste and feel and ruthless domination of all her faculties. His chest settled heavily against hers, flattening her breasts, confining her lungs so that she struggled even harder to catch her breath as he tugged at her clothing, dragging it lower.
She sucked in a sharp breath to fight the darkness closing in on her as he released her mouth, levered his upper body away from hers slightly and shoved himself downward. Catching the breast in his hand that he hadn’t teased unmercifully yet, he fastened his mouth over it and suckled, effectively depriving her of the breath she’d just hauled into her lungs. It emerged in a half choked moan of sound as jolts of exquisite sensation went through her with every tug of his mouth on the sensitive bud. She realized dimly that she was running her hands over his shoulders and back, curling and uncurling her fingers like a cat’s pleasurable kneading,
“My book!” she managed to gasp out just about the time he succeeded in parting the mesh closure at her neck.
He released his grip on one of her wrists, slid his hand down and dragged the book from under her, shoving it to one side. The moment he let go of her wrist, Bronte grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. Ignoring her tug at his scalp, Gideon hooked his fingers in the front of the uniform and parted the closure to her waist. Squeezing one breast between his thumb and fingers, he opened his mouth over the tip and sucked until her eyeballs nearly rolled back in her head as fire spread through her in dizzying waves. She thrashed beneath him, struggling half-heartedly to fight him off, but Gabriel had already revved her engines and left her wide open to the needs simmering just below the surface of her consciousness. She was fighting a losing battle the moment Gideon reawakened the only semi-dormant pleasure receptors in her brain. Her brain instantly began churning out serotonin in debilitating, will decimating volumes.
By the time Gideon ceased to tug at her nipple with his mouth and tease the aching nub with the flick of his tongue, she felt like one giant, raw nerve ending, as if her whole body pulsed in concert with the frantic rhythm of her heart, threatening to explode each time the organ contracted and sent another surge of blood boiling through her veins. Weak, completely disoriented by the intoxicating drug pumping through her system, it was more her instinct for self-preservation than her rapidly dwindling willpower that made her grab at his arms as Gideon speared his hands beneath the shoulders of her suit and peeled it down, binding her arms to her sides with the fabric.
He shoved his arms beneath her shoulders, lifting them to meet his lips. Her neck too weak to hold up her head, her head tipped back against the mattress, arching her throat to his assault. He anointed the tender flesh there with open mouthed kisses, traced the frantic pulse along the side of her neck with his tongue, and moved lower to familiarize himself with the flesh he’d exposed to the mind drugging assault of his mouth. Feeding the blaze he’d already kindled, he moved from her throat, across her collar bone from shoulder to shoulder, blazed a path along the upper slope of her breasts and then climbed the column of her throat to nip at her chin and the line of her jaw.
She lost her breath when his mouth clamped over hers in hungry possession, sucked his into her lungs sharply as he filled her mouth with his essence—the taste and feel and ruthless domination of all her faculties. His chest settled heavily against hers, flattening her breasts, confining her lungs so that she struggled even harder to catch her breath as he tugged at her clothing, dragging it lower.
She sucked in a sharp breath to fight the darkness closing in on her as he released her mouth, levered his upper body away from hers slightly and shoved himself downward. Catching the breast in his hand that he hadn’t teased unmercifully yet, he fastened his mouth over it and suckled, effectively depriving her of the breath she’d just hauled into her lungs. It emerged in a half choked moan of sound as jolts of exquisite sensation went through her with every tug of his mouth on the sensitive bud. She realized dimly that she was running her hands over his shoulders and back, curling and uncurling her fingers like a cat’s pleasurable kneading,
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