Page 28 of Draco's Defiance

“I’m not so sure about that.” One blond eyebrow cocked as he ran his fingers through her hair. “You do it so well.”

“I just can’t understand the way I feel around you.” Shit, had she just said that aloud? That sort of honesty should have been reserved for long-established relationships. Not whatever this was supposed to be.

If her logical brain had any control, she would never have come back to his—how did he put it—ivory tower. She’d have politely declined his invitation and spent the weekend concentrating on finding a new job, rather than racing to reply to his every response. But she’d already acknowledged how there was little logic to her decision-making. Her head appeared to have been switched off, while her heart, or more specifically, her sex, had taken the wheel.

“I know the feeling.” His concession caught her off guard, her hand reaching for his shirt and tugging at the linen as she struggled to calm her breathing. “But I should warn you, girls who tease end up over my knee.”

“Is that a rhyme?” She sniggered, scarcely absorbing the real threat of the verse.

“It is.” His tone was unapologetic for the sudden humor. “And I mean it.”

“You’d put me over your knee?” Why did that sound so good?

“In a heartbeat.” His voice had lowered an octave, the new timber apparently able to stroke her clit the way she knew his fingertips could.

“Why?” The whirring in her head grew, threatening to drown out everything except the weight of his stare and the drumming of her heart.

“To spank you.” A mischievous smirk lit up his face. “I remember how well you responded to my swats the other day.”

“Did I?”

That wasn’t the way she’d have put it, but Moira did recollect the way the sting of each strike had melted into the sort of heat that goaded between her thighs. She didn’t understand and was loathe to admit it, but something about the limited number of spanks he’d delivered then had made her even hornier.

“Don’t play innocent with me.” Grasping her tresses again, Draco drew her closer.

“I’m not,” she insisted. “It’s just that no one has ever spanked me before.”

She cringed as she said the word, for some reason embarrassed to articulate what had taken place. It wasn’t the etiquette of the well-educated lawyer she’d modeled herself on. Women like that rarely confessed to enjoying sex at all, let alone reveling in base acts like spanking.

“I know you enjoyed it.”

The trace of conceit in his voice rattled along her spine, taunting her. She could deny it. Could pretend that she’d done nothing of the sort, but what would be the point? The joy of the interaction she’d shared with Draco had been the carnal connection between the two of them, and the fact that, for whatever reason, she’d trusted him to push her and not go too far.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she remembered the moment he’d growled his desire to fuck her behind, and the protracted period where she’d begged him to stop, recalling her relief when finally, he’d relented. Her trust had paid dividends, but Draco’s delay had certainly ratcheted up her anxiety before he’d seen reason. She feared that edginess in him but couldn’t deny it also turned her on. His danger was both beautiful and terrifying. It was that paradox, not the thought of the private legal fee, that had guaranteed she’d return.

“Didn’t you?” His shrewd tone compelled her eyes to flicker open.

“Maybe, but I haven’t had time to process that yet, sir.” She hoped using the correct address would placate him, but his twitching lips made her wonder if she’d made the right call.

“The answer’s yes, beautiful.” Guiding her away from the elevator, he abandoned her briefcase and steered her gently against the wall. “Tell the truth.”

“Yes, I enjoyed it.” Her throat seemed to dry with the admission. “But that doesn’t mean I want more.”

“Really?” He chuckled, drawing her hands from her sides and up over her head. She wanted to moan as he held them aloft and pinned them against the paintwork, the exquisite sense of surrender washing over her.

Why is it so damn sexy to succumb?

How could a smart and independent woman ever reconcile the contradiction?

“Then you’ll just have to behave, little girl.” Resting his temple softly against hers, he stared into her eyes. Pushed against the unforgiving wall, she was pinioned by his gaze every inch as much as his perfect body.

“Will I?” Wait, what? Why had she said that? His rising brow suggested he might know the answer.

“If you want to avoid my big hand tanning your exposed backside, then yes.”

Holy hell. How was she supposed to make any judgments when he said things like that?

“If you spank me, how do I know you’ll take care of me?” She couldn’t believe she was actually asking.