My breath hitched. My thighs pressed together, trying to ease the throbbing ache between them.

“Then stop fighting,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His control snapped.

He was on me in a second.

His large hand gripped my jaw, tilting my face up as his mouth crashed down on mine. The kiss was desperate, angry, starving. His tongue thrust into my mouth, claiming me, stroking mine in deep, filthy waves. He tasted like danger and sin and everything I shouldn’t want.

I moaned into his mouth, pulling at the ropes, wanting to touch him.

He pinned me harder against the bed, his powerful body...