10-31-2013, 05:59 PM
She hadn’t been paying attention, and Jaxen took her by surprise. Fear prompted no self-defence; wouldn’t have even if she’d wanted it to, against the beast he’d described made flesh. Her heart beat wild as he pinned her against the elevator wall, though it was no longer alarm; a smile crushed against his lips, even as pain warped the thrill of pleasure. Jaxen tasted sharp and diamond bright - the shock of him caught her breath - but he had a fucking awful sense of timing. Not that it stopped her enjoying every ounce of carnality in the blistering heat of the moment, nor reciprocating the rawness of her own lust – a teasing taste of it, anyway. In that there were no games, no deceptions. Every touch was possessive - not fighting for control, and not railing in indignation at the liberties he took, but not wilting under his dominance either. She was a willing accomplice; just not a meek one.
Her lips curved a wicked grin at the press of his hands on her shoulders. She peered up through black lashes, irises a maelstrom of blue and grey and a fuckload of desire. But expectation didn’t work for Jaxen a second time. By the decadent look on her face, it was not prudishness that defied him, nor even lack of willing. She leaned in, bit his lip amidst a poison kiss. “You made me wait, sweetheart.”
Her voice purred low, sensuous even in its cruelty. He’d picked a party over her company, and the decision had penalties. She wouldn’t consent to being an afterthought, nor a precursor; she demanded his full attention. And she was a bitch when she didn’t get what she wanted.
Her lips curved a wicked grin at the press of his hands on her shoulders. She peered up through black lashes, irises a maelstrom of blue and grey and a fuckload of desire. But expectation didn’t work for Jaxen a second time. By the decadent look on her face, it was not prudishness that defied him, nor even lack of willing. She leaned in, bit his lip amidst a poison kiss. “You made me wait, sweetheart.”
Her voice purred low, sensuous even in its cruelty. He’d picked a party over her company, and the decision had penalties. She wouldn’t consent to being an afterthought, nor a precursor; she demanded his full attention. And she was a bitch when she didn’t get what she wanted.