Unlocking Adeline (Skeleton Key) by J.D. Hollyfield, Skeleton Key Page A

This key that I supposedly watched ye steal from my brother is not hiding up yer dress?” He takes the final step separating us as I stumble back into the bed frame. Playing cool and collective is much easier when there is a chunk of space between you and your nemesis, and when your nemesis is not built like a god and looks like sex.
    “Are ye wearing the key, Adeline?” he whispers, the sound of his voice smothering me. He is trying to use his alluring charm and it won’t work on me.
    “No,” I whisper back . Ugh, okay, definitely not fighting his seductive ways . I need to get him away from me. In my head I lift my hands and push him away from me. Possibly scream for help. But I do none of these. I allow him to raise the back of his hand and drag his knuckles along my flushed cheek.
    “Where possibly can ye be hiding the key then, Adeline? Is it in between these plump breasts, ye taunt every man in that ballroom with?” Dragging his hand down my neck to the crevice of my collarbone. He swiftly wraps his free arm around my waist, slamming our bodies together. It makes no difference, the ridiculous amount of layers I have on, the heat from his body seeps right through. It brings with it a tingle of sensations, ones that are foreign to me.
    “Can it be underneath all this material, strapped to yer bare flesh? Mmmmm?” He hums as he brings his mouth to my ear, his breath hitting my lobe, causing goose bumps to spread in its wake. My lips part, mainly because I need my mouth open to get more air into my lungs.
    “Maybe I should lift up all these layers of clothing and explore underneath, pressing my fingers around yer smooth thigh, working my way up, inch by aching inch, until I find what I’m looking for.”
    He has me, dammit. I try to swallow, so I can tell him to go to hell, and that I certainly don’t have the key strapped around my upper thigh, but my attention is too focused on his fingers grazing down my hips. Lifting up my dress, his rough hands work their way up my legs and closer to a place where I have begun to ache. Adding to his assault, he bends down and presses his wet lips to my chin. One, two, three soft kisses burning into my skin as he works his way down my neck.
    I’m going to tell him to stop, but I bend to give him better access instead. His touch is igniting something within me, and I can’t help but want more. “Please,” I whisper, unsure if it’s a plea to stop or continue. Locke groans, and quickly releases me. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he lifts me off my feet and tosses me onto the bed. Climbing on top, he bends forward, placing his mouth on the exposed flesh, just above my collarbone. I don’t know what is happening or why I am allowing this, but I have never wanted something so badly in my life. His grip tightens, and if we didn’t have a million layers between us I would wrap my legs around his waist to bring him closer. The only word racing through my mind right now is friction. I want friction. My little nub is pulsating, and I can’t think of anything but our bare skin touching and the slight back and forth movement.
    As if reading my mind, he brings his hand underneath me, allowing our bodies to grind. “Ohhhh God,” I moan, the unfamiliar sound pouring from my lips. The anticipation of what he plans on doing to me has my eyes closing. His hands, oh God, his hands make their way down my dress and under my fluff trap, and I can feel his warm fingers slowly brushing up my leg. I know that in just a few seconds he’s going to make it past the key strapped to my thigh and to my aching warmth.
    Past they key.
    Past the…
    “Shit.” I open my eyes and raise my head in lighting speed. This results in head butting Locke, causing him to lose his grip on my thigh. Quickly sitting upward, “What’s wrong?” I don’t answer. I lift my arms and push on his heaving chest. As soon as he loses a bit of his balance, I lift my right leg, bringing it back and lodging it