Rebellion (A Dangerous Man, #2) by Serena Grey Page B

it’s in a permanent state of sexual
hunger.
    “We’ll be home soon.” He says, his eyes dark with desire.
It’s as if he can read my mind and knows exactly what I want.
    I can’t wait.

Chapter Two
    I FALL ASLEEP SOON AFTER, LULLED by
the steady hum of the car engine. When I wake up, my head is resting on David’s
shoulder, and he is stroking my hair, his fingers gentle and soothing. I
realize that the car is no longer moving. I open my eyes and sit up, wondering
how long I’ve been asleep.
    “I was beginning to think I would have to kiss you to get
you to wake up.” His hand leaves my hair. “You were very determined to use me
as a pillow.” He adds wryly. I wonder if he is teasing me, but I can’t tell
from his face.
    I stretch self-consciously and smooth my hair. Steve is already
opening the door on my side, so I step out of the car, looking around to get a
feel of my surroundings.
    We’re parked on a tree-lined street, in front of a towering
stone and glass apartment block. I have to crane my neck to try to see all of
it. The walls are cream stone, and the glass gleams blue in the sun. It’s
massive and yet elegantly beautiful.
    Right in front of me, a pair of glass double doors stands under
a wide curved awning. As I take it in, David comes to my side, slipping his
hand around my waist with a touch that is both firm and proprietary. As always,
I immediately respond to the contact, my skin tingling where I can feel the
pressure of his fingers.
    He starts to lead me inside. When we reach the entrance, a
doorman holds the door open.  
    “Good afternoon, Mrs. Preston, Mr. Preston.” The man greets
me with a smile as David and I step inside the building. I look at him in surprise,
and smile back. “Good afternoon.” I reply, inexplicably pleased at being
addressed by my new name.
    “Thank you Jimmy.” David’s voice is curt. He doesn’t pause. His
hand on my waist urges me forward, and I follow him into the spacious lobby.
    I take a second to look around, taking in the magnificent
space. The floors are perfect gleaming marble, so well-polished that I can see
my reflection when I look down. The walls are richly detailed and paneled, and
the ceiling is at least two-storeys high, and adorned with a sparkling crystal
chandelier. Everything carries an air of unmistakable luxury.
    I would stand and admire, but David’s hand at my waist is
firm and insistent, and I have no choice but to follow him. I turn a
questioning glance at him, wondering at his haste, but his face is impassive. I
assume he has no time to watch me appreciate the beauty that’s probably
commonplace to him.
    The man at the front desk gives us a greeting too, also
calling me Mrs. Preston, and making me wonder if Linda has been passing a
picture of me around. We acknowledge him without stopping as David leads me further
towards the elevators. In only a matter of moments, we’ve crossed the lobby and
are in the private elevator that leads to his penthouse apartment.
    As the doors close, he turns to me, and using his body, presses
me against the wall, pinning my arms at my sides. His face is only inches from
mine, and the desire in his eyes turns my bones to liquid. I swallow hard as my
body heats up from the close contact with his. Then his lips dip, and he claims
my senses in a scorching kiss.
    I open my lips to him, hungry for him, and hungry for more.
    “I’m going to make love to you until your voice is hoarse
from screaming my name.” He promises softly when we come up for air, making my
heart pound with excitement, his sudden passion erasing any doubts I have had
in the past hour. He kisses me again. “Your lips are so soft.” He whispers
huskily. He continues to kiss me, his lips tracing a path from the sensitive
spot below my ear, down to where the neckline of my blouse covers the top of my
breasts, which are heavy and aching with need. My breath starts to come in
short moans. I want him here, now.
    He straightens with a low