His eyes closed briefly. "A little kiss." When he reopened them, the irises had lightened further, the color swirling, burning.
"I want you," she whispered. "You know I do. Surely there's some way . . ."
"I don't have the control," he snarled.
"The king of control?" She shook her head in bemusement. "What is it, Jonas? All or nothing? You can't let me at least have a glimpse of what I'm getting into without forcing me to accept it all the way?"
She watched his face. His jaw clenched and bunched as rage seemed to flicker in his gaze.
Slowly, so slowly, his head lowered, his gaze holding hers as she watched a battle she couldn't understand flickering in his eyes.
"I would never force you," he whispered.
His lips touched hers. So slowly.
Rachel felt herself shaking from the inside out as she tried to part her lips. She tried to take more of him, only to have him hold her closer. His lips were closed, heated, sending fiery sensations racing through her nervous system as desire began to rage through her.
His hands stroked down her arms, drew them to his shoulders before his hands gripped her hips and jerked her closer.
Her lips parted on a gasp.
Jonas's head lifted, his lips moving to her neck, his teeth raking the sensitive flesh. The feel of his hardened c**k pressed tight and hard against her as the position forced her legs to part.
Thin dress pants were no protection against the hardened length of his erection beneath his own slacks.
His c**k was hot, hard. So thick and heavy against the overheated, swollen mound of her sex. Rachel couldn't help but try to lift herself closer, to grind her clit against the heated proof of the heavy shaft as the need for release suddenly overwhelmed her.
Jonas's large palm cupped the back of her head as it fell back. His lips stroked along her neck; his teeth raked, nipped. The feel of his incisors, wicked sharp, sent fiery pleasure tearing through her before it struck her womb, clenching it with ecstasy.
"Jonas." Weakness assailed her, yet adrenaline coursed through her. She needed more. She ached for more.
Just as quickly as he pulled her to him, she found herself free. Stumbling against the desk, she stared back at him in shock as he snarled.
"What . . . ?"
"I have work to do." He turned, stalked back to his office and slammed the door. A second later, the lock clicked, informing her with more than words that he wanted nothing more to do with her.
"Jonas." She whispered his name, her hand lifting to her neck and the stinging sensation she could still feel.
Touching dampness, she pulled back and stared at her fingers with wide eyes.
Blood.
"You're playing a very dangerous game, little girl."
Rachel turned quickly, off balance, shocked as she stared back at Dr. Ely Morrey.
Dressed in a heavy sweater, jeans and boots, she didn't look like the genius in Breed genetics that Rachel knew she was.
"How . . ." She blinked, swallowed tightly. "I didn't hear you come in."
Evidently, Jonas hadn't heard either.
"Come with me." She jerked her head beyond the door before stepping into the harsh chill of the mountain air.
Rachel followed, not quite certain why. Closing the door behind her, Ely glared back at Rachel, her brown eyes enraged.
"I heard more than I probably should have," Ely expressed in a precise, icy tone Rachel had never heard from her before. Anger glittered in her brown eyes, an anger Rachel didn't understand. "You ask that man for the impossible."