Free Taking the Stage: Soulgirls, Book 2 by Heather Long Page B

front of his jeans.
    Anthony’s lips caressed up the column of her throat, blowing lightly until the hair parted to reveal her ear. His teeth closed gently around her earlobe, a nip of admonishment.
    “You shouldn’t have run.” His voice was gloriously dark and edged with hungry passion. His hand tightened around her wrist, the pressure demanding she release the blade, and when her fingers went numb she surrendered it. A thump sounded on the far side as it fell from her nerveless fingers.
    Excitement trilled through her insides. His heat burned through the shirt as if it weren’t there. She could feel the movement of his muscles as his chest expanded and relaxed with every breath. He nuzzled her ear, gentle nips sprinkled with sharper tugs.
    Who knew an ear could be an erogenous zone?
    His tongue traced each curve, stroking gentle laps that sent tingles zinging down her spine. She arched upward against the caress, an invitation that her tiger-man seemed to understand, his weight settling with force, legs bracketing hers, his arousal snug against her ass.
    “Surrender?”
    “We’re still two stripes to one.” Where the sass came from she didn’t know and she didn’t care. She enjoyed the growl that vibrated through him, damn near purring into her ear.
    “Look again.” His voice was low and husky, allowing her just enough freedom to turn her head. A third stripe paralleled the first two. Three cuts.
    “You won.” Wonder and delight cascaded through her. It was such a ridiculous thing to be happy about, but he’d done it and not just because she’d wanted him to. She’d certainly been giving as good as she got.
    But he won.
    To the victor the spoils. She clenched her thighs in anticipation. The length of his cock was hard where it pressed against her. All he needed to do was release the denim and he could be inside her. She nearly groaned at the thought. It’d been a long time since a man had been fast or furious enough to even take up the challenge, much less best her.
    “Stop.” His hands released her wrists, gliding up her arms as he arched up. His hips pressed hers into the bed and she curved her back, lifting her bottom in invitation. But the damn cat ignored it, cupping his hands under her and massaging her breasts. “To the victor the spoils.” He echoed her earlier thought. “And as much as I’d like to strip you bare and take you right now, that was not what we were competing for.”
    Seriously?
    Desire thudded with every pulse between her legs and when he pinched her nipples through the shirt, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, she wanted to weep. She bumped her bottom against his groin, grinding ever so slowly.
    “Bad girl.” He bit down on her ear, the tug on her nipples both enticing and rebuking. “Behave and maybe I’ll help you out with your little problem.”
    My little problem? She was going to kill him.
    His right hand abandoned her breast, stroking his way down the shirt to dip between her thighs.
    “You do want help with this?” His fingers teased through the curls shielding the entrance of her sex. Warm wetness flooded between her thighs, it took all her control not to whimper as his thumb slid past the wet lips to tease her clit. And by the gods, what teasing. He wouldn’t quite touch it, circling it gently, just allowing her to feel the slightest pressure.
    “What…” Was her voice really that husky? “…do you want?”
    “Truth, remember?” His tongue glided down the curve of her ear before grazing his teeth over the soft spot just behind it. Her pulse roared. She tried to spread her legs, to invite his hand deeper, but he locked his legs on hers, rocking his thumb in a teasing cadence.
    “Why the slave bands? Why did you surrender?” The questions beckoned her as his fingers continued their slow torment. His left hand stroked away from her breast to brace against the bed. His heat abandoned her as he pushed himself upward. She undulated, writhing,