Passing His Guard

Rya

“Not so unheard of when you’re worth ten million dollars.”

Holy. Shit. “Ten million dollars?”

He nodded. “That’s how much money in illegal campaign contributions my father took over the course of a year. My father drew up the marriage contract and set the wedding date without me even knowing it.”

“Are you serious? How did you find out?”

“By accident, I assure you. I was going through some of my father’s files, looking for information on a court case he asked me to take over, when I found the contract and discovered what he’d done.”

“Oh, my God, Aiden, that’s terrible. What did you do?”

“I confronted him about it. We had a huge fight. I told him there was no way I was getting married to some woman I’d never even met. I don’t give a shit who she is. He told me I didn’t have a choice, and unless I wanted to be disinherited, I was going to marry her. I told him he could go fuck himself. That night I packed up my shit and walked away from it all—all their money and all their bullshit. I haven’t spoken to either of my parents since.”

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Rya

“I’m sorry, Aiden. If I’d known . . .” The apology fell from her lips. Remorse became a vise that tightened around her chest—for what she’d done and what she still had to do. “I had no idea.”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Was there more to Aiden’s confession than she dared to hope?

Exhaling a deep sigh, he flopped back on his side of the bed. He fixed his gaze on the ceiling and muttered a nasty curse that belayed nothing of his refined upbringing and everything of the steely, tough-as-nails fighter he’d become. “I don’t fucking know. This is crazy, Rya

Did he truly care that much about what she thought of him? If she wasn’t careful, this MMA fighter was going to pass her guard and lay some serious ground and pound to her resistance.

Aiden rolled onto his side and propped his head beneath his hand and watched her—a model-gorgeous pose that became a visual seduction of her senses. She tried not to notice he was naked except for a pair of low-riding boxer-briefs. But it was hard not to think about it when only a short while ago that powerful, sexy body had been covering hers, delivering pleasure of the likes she’d never experienced before. She knew, without a doubt, if she’d allowed things to go further, he would have taken her to new heights, surpassing her embarrassingly limited experience.

Her curiosity and undeniable attraction to him were powerful aphrodisiacs. How easy it would be to give herself over to this man’s wicked charms. Rya

Holding his stare, the question tumbled from her lips. “What do you want from me, Aiden?”

He blew out a ripe curse. “Fuck, Rya

She cut him off by throwing herself against him and crushing her lips to his. His surprised oomph was a throaty grunt as he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. This was crazy. And no doubt she was going to regret it, but Aiden’s blunt honesty proved she wasn’t the only one feeling this unexplainable co

Despite her position advantage, his hand threaded into her hair, knotting into his fist as he held her exactly where he wanted her, tipping her head at just the right angle so he could take over their kiss. His mouth was demanding, his tongue conquering, proving that just like in the cage, Aiden Kruze was as in control and as dangerous on his back as he was on his feet. His other hand slid over her ass and squeezed a handful of flesh as he jerked her against him.

Through the thin cotton of her pajamas, his heat seared her. Every muscular peak and plane molded against her body. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her sensitive breasts, proving she wasn’t the only one coming undone. His hold on her was unrelenting, sending a wild thrill skirting through her veins. The fevered pitch in which he kissed her took her breath away. Never had Rya

It was so easy to let go with him and know it was going to be the most amazing sex of her life. Already the knot of tension coiling in the pit of her stomach was driving her to the edge. He broke their kiss, giving her lungs much-needed oxygen. Like a diver bursting from the water, she inhaled sharply as Aiden’s mouth moved down the side of her throat. He nipped the sensitive flesh just above her shoulder, the mixture of pain and pleasure ripping a startled gasp from her parted lips. His answering chuckle was a deep, masculine growl vibrating against her pulse point. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, how deeply he affected her and how thoroughly he devastated her.

She knew the moment playtime was over—sensed the shift in the purpose of his touch when it went from teasing and exploring to purposeful and deliberate. One minute she was on top of him, and the next, he rolled her, putting Rya

As he moved down her body, he slipped the straps of her nightshirt off her shoulders, baring her breasts to his assessing gaze. She’d never focused much on her breasts before. Growing up a tomboy and being in a profession that was mostly dominated by men, she’d found the large swells of flesh more a burden than a blessing and often took care to minimize their appearance.

But looking at herself now through Aiden’s amber eyes, which seemed to take in every inch of bare flesh and missed nothing, she felt decidedly exposed and knew a moment of self-consciousness trapped beneath his bold stare. Instinctively, she raised an arm to cover herself, but he caught her wrist before she could block his view. “No, don’t. Just . . . give me a minute. Let me look at you.”

Was that . . . awe in his husky voice? No, that was wishful thinking on her part, and thoughts like that were dangerous ones to have. It wasn’t until his grip on her wrist tightened that she realized he wasn’t as unaffected as she thought. He was shaking, the subtle tremor a testament to his struggle for control.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous . . .”

His strong, callused hands—a fighter’s hands—caged her narrow waist and slowly dragged themselves up her ribs and covered her breasts. Taking his time, he tested their weight in his hands, seeming to appreciate the way they spilled past the tips of his fingers. His grip was firm, yet revering. Little darts of pleasure zinged beneath her skin when his thumbs brushed over her beaded nipples. He trapped them against his index fingers and applied pressure until a gasp of pain and pleasure broke her lips. His eyes greedily consumed her, as if he were studying her reactions, searing them into his mind. Was he testing her?—discovering her threshold?