Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage: Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage

“Fine,” he lied. “But we need to get out of here.”

She licked her lips and his gaze fixed on that simple, innocent action. His body tightened and his blood rushed through his veins.

“Yes,” she said. “Let’s go. Now.”

Just what he wanted to hear.

Sliding from the booth, he held out one hand to her and when she slipped her hand into his, he tightened his grip and tugged her to his side. He hooked his right arm around her waist and held her close as they started through the crowded club.

He led her through the mass of people, threading his way with a single-minded determination that had stood him in good stead over the past ten years. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, and never let anything get in his way.

Tonight was no different.

He told himself the rush of expectation filling him was no more than the knowledge that he was about to get his revenge on her. And he was sticking to that story.

When they were free of the club and headed across the lobby to the bank of elevators, the concierge called out to him. Gabe waved him off, tucked Debbie even closer to him and hurried his pace.

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

He glanced down at her, saw the shine in her eyes and the high flush on her cheeks and nearly kissed her. But once he started kissing her again, he wouldn’t stop. His fingers pressed into her side, sneaking up to stroke the side of her breast. She groaned quietly, bit her bottom lip and gave him a shaky smile.

“I know just how you feel,” he said, and quickened his pace even further. The heels of their shoes clicked rhythmically against the tile floor and sounded, to Gabe’s fevered brain, like a clock ticking off the seconds until he could have her naked and panting beneath him.

Past the bank of guest elevators was the private car that went directly to the owner’s suite. Gabe pulled his key card from his breast pocket, swept it through the reader and then pulled Debbie into the elevator as soon as the doors parted for them.

When the door swept quietly closed and the elevator began its climb, Debbie moved into his arms. He pulled her in tightly to him, wrapping his arms around her middle and holding on as if the touch of her meant life.

She moved against him and he remembered vividly, wildly, how out of control and frenzied their lovemaking had always been. He’d never found that passion with anyone else. Never known again the flashing heat of desire that overpowered all of a man’s senses at once.

With Debbie there was heat, fire, explosive need. She slid her hands beneath his tuxedo jacket and ran her palms over his shirtfront. Even through the fine linen fabric, he felt the sizzle of her skin on his and relished the flames, knowing that she was burning for him. Knowing that she was feeling exactly what he wanted her to feel. He walked her backward until she hit the wall, and took her mouth with his in a fierce kiss that demanded and gave and demanded again.

Her breath puffed against his cheek. She leaned into him, arching her hips into his as if looking for the release that was so very close.

He tore his mouth from hers, tasted the line of her throat and felt her pulse pounding erratically. He had her. Had her hungry for him, wild for him.

What he hadn’t counted on, though, was his own need. His own desire nearly swamping him. He had counted on the fact that he could reach her as he once had. But he’d never expected to feel any stirrings himself. He’d thought only to have her, ease his body’s ache and make her whimper for him.

But there was more going on here. There was more pushing through him and he didn’t like it—didn’t want to admit it, despite the clamoring of his own blood and the hammering pound of his heartbeat.

No, he told himself. He was in this for one reason.

Payback.

“Now, Deb. Right here, right now.” He couldn’t wait any longer.

She looked into his eyes and whispered, “Yes, Gabe. Right now. Please, right now.”

He reached down, gathered up the hem of her sapphire-blue gown and lifted it, sliding his hand along her leg, higher, higher. She trembled, spread her legs farther apart in silent invitation and when he cupped her heat, he felt a jolt of surprise.

“No panties?” One eyebrow lifted as he cupped his hand over her again.

She gasped, then smiled and shrugged. “Panty lines.”

“Let’s hear it for tight gowns,” he said, and stroked the hard bud of her sex while she cried his name.

Six

Debbie’s brain shrieked, Mistake!! Stop now!!

But her body so didn’t want to hear it. This is what she’d been headed for since the moment she first saw Gabe at the tiny island jail. The passion between them was as rich and thick as it ever had been. Clearly, ten years apart had done nothing to lessen it.

His hands on her body felt like fire. His fingertips seared her skin and when he dipped one finger inside her, Debbie’s body roared into life.

She gasped, arched into him and tipped her head back, staring blindly at the ceiling of the elevator car. Her hips rocked into his touch. Rational thought dribbled away. His mouth at the curve of her neck fed the heat pulsing inside her and when his thumb flicked over the core of her, she shuddered in his grasp. Instantly a quick, greedy climax erupted, threatening to swamp her.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice muffled against her skin. “Now again.”

“Can’t.” She choked out the single word as the last of her tremors eased away. Shaking her head, she looked at him and whispered, “I can’t. It’s too much. Too fast. Too soon.”

“It’s never enough.” His gaze locked on hers and she fell into the green depths. “I want to watch you go over. I want to feel you shake for me.”

His thumb stroked her again and she whimpered as a pleasure/pain jolted across her too-sensitive flesh.

The elevator doors dinged and opened into his living room. The wood floors gleamed in the lamplight, the bright rugs scattered over the floor shone like gemstones tossed to the ground. He set her on her feet, but her knees were like jelly.

Instantly he swept her up into his arms and Debbie hooked her own arms around his neck. Burrowing into him, she tucked her head against his chest and listened to the wild crashing of his heartbeat.

His long, hurried steps took them through the living room without a pause and when they entered the master bedroom, he didn’t waste any time. He stretched her out on the bed, but when she reached for him, lifting her arms to him in welcome, he held her wrists and slowly turned her around. She felt his fingers at her back and when he pulled down the zipper of her dress, the cool air caressed her heated skin like a promise.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, and bent to kiss her at the small of her back. She sighed and closed her eyes as his lips touched her in an intimate touch. Then as he pulled her gown off, his hands cupped her behind, his fingers squeezing, kneading.

Debbie groaned and twisted on the silken duvet, the cool slide of the fabric adding to the sensation overload slapping her system.

She burned for him all over again. It was as if her body hadn’t shattered at all just a few minutes ago. She ached to be taken again. Ached to feel his body invading hers. His lean but muscled body crushing down on her. “Gabe…”

“Right here, babe,” he murmured the words as he trailed nibbling kisses up and down the length of her spine. While his mouth teased her, his hands explored her. Dipping into every curve, exploring every inch of her body until Debbie could hardly breathe with the fire caging her lungs.

“I want…” You, she thought. You. She needed him desperately. Wanted him even more. Her mind was a whirling jumble of racing thoughts that splintered when she tried to catch hold of them. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to think.

Only needed to feel.

Only needed him.

She tried to roll over so that she could see him, touch him, do to him what he was doing to her. But he held her in place with his strong hands.

“Not yet.” He kissed the nape of her neck, scraping his teeth against her skin and she groaned softly. “Just let me touch you.”

She buried her face in the silky duvet and curled her hands into fists over the material, as if she needed a firm grip on the world to keep from sliding off. She twisted and writhed beneath him, her skin burning, itching for him, and when his hands stopped their exploration, she whimpered again and couldn’t even blame herself for the sighed complaint.