Unshackle (Deliver #7) - Pam Godwin Page 0,30
like a kiss over her gaping mouth. “Thank you for giving me your submission.”
Her head reeled, and her heart stumbled into a strange, fitful rhythm. “I didn’t—”
He pressed lips lightly against hers. “Don’t ruin it.”
Self-preservation was the first law of nature. In the presence of this man, she felt that law in the marrow of her bones.
“Tomas.” Pushing to his feet, he opened his pants. “Move the food to my room.”
She closed her legs and curled up on her side, knowing full well he wasn’t finished with her.
“Hold these on your face.” Tomas pressed two ice packs into her hands. Then he pushed the cart out of the bathroom.
John stripped off his pants and briefs and faced her with his fists on his hips. He just stood there, head cocked, as if he didn’t have a huge, raging erection jutting between them.
“Get those on your face.” He nodded at the ice packs numbing her fingers.
She blinked, thunderstruck, and slowly raised the cloth-wrapped pads to her cheeks. Before she could form a question, he strode to the wall of shower heads and yanked on the faucet.
With his back to her, she found her gaze drawn to the perfect form of his body. The strong column of his neck, slope of broad shoulders, chiseled torso, well-muscled legs… She swallowed, drinking in his dangerous masculinity.
He leaned toward the wall, head down, bracing himself on strong, corded arms. She shouldn’t be staring at his ass, but God help her, it was tight, firm, chiseled to perfection, with two little divots denting either side of his tail bone.
Why was he built so beautifully? Not only that, how did he know how to touch a woman with such flawless mastery? His skill was so over-the-top he could coax multiples from a quadriplegic and use that American twang to charm the panties off a deaf woman.
It didn’t make sense. None of it added up.
He bought trafficked humans, for Christ’s sake. Was that how he’d learned the art of seduction? He must’ve heard the pained, helpless cries of dozens of slaves.
Abruptly, he shut off the water and prowled toward her. He’d showered without bothering with soap? Even more curious, his dick was now flaccid.
He wasn’t as endowed as Tomas—no one was—but his size was impressive, nonetheless. Thick and veiny with a plump head, his manhood hung against heavy balls, the root surrounded by a sparse nest of copper hair.
She didn’t want any of that anywhere near her.
When he reached her, she flinched and blamed her jumpiness on her pounding headache and blinding exhaustion.
He collected the ice packs and lifted her from the settee. Goosebumps prickled his flesh, and cold water dripped from his body to hers. Ice water.
“You took a cold shower?” She hugged her chest, an awkward position in the cradle of his arms.
“Remember…” He turned toward the door, his voice low at her ear. “Outside this room, they’re watching and listening.”
Her brows pulled together as he carried her out of the bathroom.
Everything he’d just done to her had been in private. Had that been deliberate? Except… Wait. The door stood open. It had been closed until he’d nodded at Tomas to open it. Right before he’d forced her to orgasm.
They can’t hear us in here?
Only when you scream.
Boy, had she screamed. She must’ve sounded as if John were beating her, and he’d encouraged the noise. Almost as if he’d orchestrated it. But for what purpose?
He carried her into the bedroom, both of them nude. Whoever monitored the cameras would’ve heard her shrieks and assumed he fucked her in the bathroom. Hell, he’d even taken care of his erection.
But why go through all the trouble when he could’ve just raped her?
Something was rotten in the state of Denmark. What, exactly, she didn’t know, but this man wasn’t who he claimed to be.
If he thought he had her fooled, he was an idiot.
CHAPTER 11
“There’s another steak.” Luke set aside her finished plate, bone-tired yet too wired to close his eyes. “You need the calories.”
“I can’t eat another bite.” She slumped against the pillows on his bed, her lashes fluttering closed. “Hand me the tequila.”
“You’ve had enough.” He’d allowed her a few sips to take the edge off the pain. “You need water.”
“Shut up and let me sleep.”
Amusement tugged at his lips. She’d been awake and holding a conversation for hours with that concussion. It was probably safe for her to rest. She needed it.
In the next day or so, her face would be black and blue. For now,