The Forbidden Read online Jodi Ellen Malpas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
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‘I can’t wait that long.’ He pulls away from me, leaving me a shaky mess held against the wall. ‘Hotel.’

I nod, thinking that’s best all round. Mutual ground. He wastes no time, sliding his hand to my lower back and putting some weight behind it. I manage to prise myself from the bricks with his support, but my legs are still quivering beyond my control as we walk urgently down the street. I look at him discreetly out of the corner of my eye, finding him focused forward, his jaw tense. And I definitely detect his trembling beyond mine. We’re both wound up like tightly coiled springs, dying to let loose on each other. It’s new to me – odd and thrilling.

The walk to the nearest hotel is excruciatingly long. Jack approaches the reception desk and asks for a room, and though the lady eyes me knowingly, I don’t even blush.

He gets a room card, marches me to the lift and virtually tosses me inside. He doesn’t even wait for the doors to close. He’s on me again, kissing me brutally, pinning me against the back wall and making sure I feel what’s concealed behind the fly of his jeans. He rolls us, now his back against the wall, our mouths going at it like starved lions. The small space is drenched in moans, groans, whimpers and cries of passion.

When the doors open we practically fall out, our mouths still glued as he walks me backwards down the corridor, having a quick check for the right room before he fumbles with the card and kicks the door open. He breaks our kiss and pushes me inside. I stumble back, dazed, disoriented . . . wanting like I’ve never wanted before.

He starts to unfasten his shirt as he prowls towards me, and once he’s worked his way through his buttons, he shrugs it off.

And I gulp down my awe as I take in the smooth planes of his torso, the perfection of his body making me giddy. He can’t be real. Is he real? Am I here?

The way he’s looking at me – the hunger, the resolve. I’ve never felt so wanted and, weirdly, needed. It’s a satisfying revelation. But there’s an alien feeling too, one that I should probably devote a little more time towards analysing. How much I need him right now. A stranger.

His hands move to the button of his fly as he comes to a stop before me, just a few feet away. The waistband of his boxers is peeking above his jeans, taut material spanning a taut stomach. My eyes fix on his fingers as he lazily reveals more of himself to me, torturing me, his shallow breathing matching my own. Why so slow now? Why is he dragging this out? I flick desperate eyes to his and find him watching me closely. Then his jeans hit the floor. Followed by his boxers.

The muscles in my legs threaten to give up on me as I stare at him before me, stark naked and beyond stunning. This isn’t me. I don’t bend to a man’s will, but this man has had me bending from the second he found me at the bar. I’m unsure whether I loathe the notion, or love it. What I do know, though, is there is nothing I can do about it. Neither do I want to. A night of dirty, raw fucking is currently standing before me, with illicit promises shining from his grey eyes, and I’m going in feet first.

As soon as I find my feet.

Kicking away his shoes, jeans and boxers, he takes my hands delicately, like he’s sensed I need a moment of gentleness and reassurance.

‘Ready, Annie?’ he asks softly. ‘Because I sure as hell am.’

He doesn’t wait for my answer. He must see the certainty in my eyes. Moving into me, pressing me against the window behind me, the side of his coarse face resting against my cheek, he grips the hem of my dress and pulls it up between us. My arms lift with it as my mind searches frantically for some poise, anything to match his calm, measured actions. I have nothing.

He’s taking it slowly now, savouring every moment, every movement, every sound. My dress is gone, but he’s still pressed against me, moving his hands around to my back. I feel the clasp of my bra release and then he steps away, pulling the straps down my arms, his eyes falling down my body.

He swallows.

Hard.

He blinks.

Slowly.

He growls under his breath.

Then he drops my bra to the floor and his eyes to my skimpy black knickers. The sight of his big, naked body before me distracts me from any shyness. The power of his presence distracts me from any restraint I should be working hard to find.


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