an angle that pressed against the front of her passage. So tight. So hot. Finally, his pelvis met the wet flesh of her thighs.
Heaven and hell all wrapped into one unexpected package.
He held still for long moments, rubbing her clit, savoring the connection. So good . She twisted, her body demanding her due. Gathering what little control remained, he released her legs, then moved his body over hers, pinning her down at the wrist.
Her pussy tightened in one long, slow pull, making him question who exactly was in control. One second. Two. Finally he let himself go, pounding into her, each thrust so much pleasure it was pain. On the edge of his consciousness, he heard her cries break free. Louder. Stronger. She pulsed around him, over and over, until her body bowed up in ecstasy. He thrust hard, once, twice, his hands pulling her against him with a grip that would have hurt if they had noticed.
One more heartbeat, t hen his world exploded, leaving him shattered in the aftermath.
Chapter Nine
The insistent ring of a phone dragged Taylor from her satisfying sleep. Not the sleep of the innocent, if she remembered her dreams correctly. But drifting into dreamland was so enticing when a naked Michael Korvello waited instead of nightmares.
She patted around the bedside table for her cell phone, o nly to realize the house’s landline was ringing. Was it Michael? Was something wrong? He and the kids had left yesterday for Kentucky, so who else would be calling at one a.m.?
“ Yes?” she asked, struggling to jump-start her sleepy brain.
“ Um, hello,” a hushed male voice said. “I’m calling on behalf of Daniel Korvello.”
“ What?” She sat upright, pushing her hair back from her face. “Who is this? Is Daniel all right?”
“ Yes, ma’am. At least, I think so. But I need to talk to his brother.”
“ He’s not here.”
“ Oh.” A long pause ticked by until she wanted to yell at him to get on with it. “I really need his brother.”
“ He’s not here. Now tell me what the hell is going on. Right. Now.”
Ten minutes later she was waving good -bye to the night security guard as she pulled out of the estate and headed into Atlanta. The voice on the other end of the line had explained he was a night manager in an Atlanta hotel. Responding to noise complaints, he’d gone into the room and found the singer passed out, clothes and booze everywhere, and some damage to the room.
Daniel had been alone.
Concerned about the obviously drunk singer, the manager had called the emergency number listed in Daniel’s cell phone. The house line. But Michael was too far away, so Taylor was heading down there to see what she could do before any reporters caught wind of the situation.
The manager—he said his name was Max—had gotten Daniel to respond, but he was drunker than Cooter Brown and the man was good enough not to want to leave him alone. Taylor told him she would hurry, and she ’d sped into the night after dragging on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
She hadn’t had time to call Michael, though she probably should have. A shiver of awareness shot along her nerves despite her anxiety over Daniel. Michael would return the next evening, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to pick up where they left off or lock herself into her room like a terrified teenager.
His control had been nothing like Bradley’s. He’d dominated her subtly, not grinding her body or self-esteem into dust. The things he’d insisted on doing had been about pleasing her. They had pushed her outside of her comfort zone but not too far. Exposing her, building her need, forcing her to express herself. He hadn’t ignored her needs and desires in favor of his own. Michael had taught her what a man in control was capable of making a woman feel.
The experience had been incredible.
Perversely, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to repeat it. She’d felt too much. The experience had left her raw, exposed. Now she
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