Captivate Me

Slipping one arm around her waist, Beckett let his other slide up her ribs. Cupping her cheek in his palm, he coaxed her to turn to him. To see him. Her frantic gaze darted across his masked face. Recognition shot through her and her tensed body immediately softened.

She stilled and then melted into him. Beckett accepted her weight and the spreading warmth of finally having her loose and lax in his arms.

Her pupils dilated, not with anxiety or fear, but barely suppressed excitement.

That realization only stoked his already chaotic emotions higher.

“What are you doing here?” she breathed.

“Did you really think I’d let you get away with shutting me out?” he asked. “Tell me to let you go. Or get lost. But let me taste you first. Once. Please,” he begged, right before finally claiming her mouth.

* * *

GOD, SHE WAS kissing a complete stranger in the middle of Mardi Gras. No, that wasn’t true. She might be participating, but there was no mistaking just who was controlling this moment.

And it wasn’t her.

She was simply along for the ride. Swept away on the current of sensation. His hard fingers, cupping her jaw, held her still. The band of his arm across her belly pulled her close, as if letting her go would devastate him. His warmth radiated through her and seeped deep into her bones.

The unmistakable ridge of masculine arousal nestled tight against the small of her back. Alyssa’s hips rolled against him. An unconscious movement, but it felt good knowing she had that effect on him.

Because he had the same effect on her.

Maybe that’s why she went with the moment and didn’t fight him or herself. In the middle of a public street, he completely consumed her. And, unlike the couple in the shadows, he made no attempt to hide.

Despite everything, this was safe. At least a hell of a lot safer than the frantic, unwanted thoughts of Beckett Kayne she’d been fighting all night. This kiss, these moments, made her forget everything except the masked man holding her. The way he made her body respond and her brain simply shut down leaving nothing but...pure sensation and unfiltered response.

Maybe it was her imagination that added the slide of multiple gazes across her body, across them. She wanted them to watch. Wanted someone else to see what was happening to her.

To make it real.

The feathers from his mask tickled her skin. His mouth, somehow both hard and soft, moved against hers, demanding and restrained. He knew exactly what he was doing and methodically enthralled her.

His tongue thrust between her lips, taking whatever he wanted from her. It was sweet and sharp. Heaven and absolute hell, because in the same moment he’d surprised her he’d also managed to pin her arms uselessly to her sides.

She struggled against him, not to get free, but so she could participate, do something more than surrender and melt.

With a gasp that burst across her open, wet lips, he tore his mouth free. But didn’t let go. Instead, he used his hold to turn her head and expose the long column of her throat.

A trail of fire followed his lips. A shiver jolted down her spine and raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

He chuckled, dragging his mouth across the evidence of her instinctive reaction. The sound of it, deep, warm and entirely egotistical, resonated through her body, settling deep between her thighs with a pressing ache.

How could his pleased response ratchet up her own desire? She didn’t need or want his approval. Had given up the need for that kind of validation from anyone a long time ago.