Brazen and the Beast - Sarah MacLean Page 0,105

his trousers aside, revealing him—full, thick, strong, and, “Beautiful.”

He swore softly and grew impossibly harder at the word, guiding her touch, squeezing her around him, almost too rough, until she stroked him and he growled, the sound like a gift. She smiled, watching their joined hands work him. “You like this.”

“So much,” he said, the rough words drawing her attention to his face, where the muscles in his jaw clenched and he looked like he was barely hanging on to control.

She stroked him again. Down. Up. His throat worked at the sensation, and then she paused, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the tip of him, and he closed his eyes, throwing his head back. “Fuck, Hattie.”

She grinned. She couldn’t stop herself. “You like that very much.” She did it again, and he groaned, pulling her to him for a long kiss, tongue stroking deep as she put her lessons into action. She’d never felt so powerful.

After too short a time, he pulled her away from him. “Stop.”

“But . . .” She paused. “I was enjoying that.”

He huffed a little laugh. “As was I. But you asked for the rest, did you not?”

The honest words had excitement coursing through her. “You promised me the rest.”

He stilled, his fingers tracing over her temple, pushing her hair back from her face as he searched her eyes, suddenly serious beyond words. “Be certain. Be certain that you choose this. That you choose me.” His thumb traced over her cheek and his voice lowered to a whisper. “Be certain that you are willing to give this up to me, because I will take it and I will keep it and you can never have it back.”

And in that moment, as the words settled between them in that remarkable, decadent room, filled with silks and sin, Hattie knew the truth—that she would never want this back. She would treasure this night and this moment forever. Because she would never want another the way she wanted him.

Even though she knew, without question, that she would never have more of him.

She closed her eyes at the realization, taking a deep breath before she spoke. “In my life, I’ve been a daughter and a sister and a friend. I’ve had love and respect, and lived a happier life than many . . . than most.” She paused. “But I have never been an equal. Even as I fought for all the things I wanted, I never had a choice. Not really. I always had a father or a brother or friends to tell me what I should choose. What I could have. Who I am.”

She met his eyes, their amber fire unwavering on her. “And then I met you. And from the very start, you offered me choice. You never told me what I should want. What I could and could not have. You made me your equal.” She smiled.

His brows snapped together. “And then I took it from you.”

She nodded. “And tomorrow, we shall be rivals. But here is the truth; I could not be your rival if I were not your equal. If I were not your . . . match.”

Her hand settled to his chest, and she felt the strong, sure beat of his heart beneath her palm. And she wondered, madly, what it would be like if she were his match in all things.

It didn’t matter. “I have never been more certain of anything.” She leaned in for his kiss, and he met her halfway. “Ruin me.”

He didn’t speak, instead giving her the kiss for which she asked, moving over her, kissing down her neck and over her breasts, lingering at the tight buds there until her fingers were in his hair and tugging him back up for more lingering kisses, slow and languid and setting her aflame.

She opened her thighs and he settled between them. They both gasped at the sensation, the smooth head of him cradled against the warmth of her, and he held himself up over her, not touching her anywhere else, his weight on his massive arms. “I have never done this,” he whispered.

She smiled. “I don’t believe you.”

He shook his head. “Not like this. Not so important. Not with such a goal.” He rocked into her, the hard length of him pressed perfectly at her heat, and she sighed. “I want you to remember it.”

“I will,” she said, her hands coming to his hips. “How could I not?”

How would she ever forget the look of him? His beautiful

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