The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 72

I shake my head, sitting on the edge of the bed, a stupid grin on my face.
Mr. Mason, you know how to put it on a girl.
I twist around, staring at the beautiful man lying next to me. Never in a million years would I’ve thought I'd get this lucky. I glance at the clock— 11:00 PM. The bed shifts as Blake rolls onto his side, facing me. His eyes flutter open, a smile spreading across his face. I grin, trying to hide the sadness nipping at the edges of my elation.
"Come back to bed, baby," he says, holding his arms open.
"You should go back to sleep, it's late."
"What's wrong?"
I crawl across the bed, lie on my back and stare into his face. "I've got fifteen hours left."
He trails his knuckles along my jaw line. "Stop. I don't want to think about it." Leaning down, he gently presses his lips to mine.
My stomach growls and we both laugh.
"We should get something to eat," he says, kissing the corner of my mouth.
Smiling, I sit up and move off the bed. I walk to our pile of clothing, and shimmy into my pants. My body stiffens as Blake runs his fingers over the scars on my back.
"Who gave you these?" His voice is hardly a whisper.
"I was eleven. My owner got his kicks beating the shit out of slaves." I turn to face him, pulling my shirt over my head.
"I see the girls come through the halfway house, but I don't think I've really comprehended how bad it is out there . . . until I saw you with Sorina." He rests his hands on my waist.
"She's going to have a long road ahead of her," I whisper. "You've got to put some clothes on."
He smiles mischievously. "Why? You don't like my body?"
"I think your body is very adequate, Mr. Mason, however, I'm starving, so we need to eat."
"Yes, ma'am," he says, leaning down next to my leg.
He grabs his clothes, dropping onto one knee. I gasp as he lifts the bottom of my shirt, pressing his lips to my stomach. He trails his tongue along my skin above the waistband of my pants, and shivers ripple through me.
"Blake, stop," I say curling my fingers into his hair.
He lifts his lips, slightly. "Do you really want me to stop?" His breath caresses my body.
He presses his lips to me again, dropping his clothes on the floor. I moan as his hands grip my ass, holding me firmly in place. His lips move up my stomach, his tongue circling my belly button.
For fuck sake. I want him again.
His fingers slip inside the top of my pants and push them to the floor. Standing, he pulls my leg up, balancing me on the other, setting my knee in the crook of his elbow. His lips capture mine, as his fingers move inside me.
My stomach clenches, his fingers hitting my sweet spot in rapid succession, bringing me to my peak quick and hard. My body tenses as I try to control the impending orgasm, wanting to prolong his sensual attack.
"Let go," he growls in my ear.
He flattens his hand, his palm massaging my clit as his fingers circle inside me. I'm lost, soaring somewhere in oblivion as I come, loudly, moaning and panting, digging my fingernails into the smooth skin of his well-muscled shoulders.
He slowly disentangles himself from me, wrapping his arms gently around my mid-section. I lay my head against his chest, trying to calm the aftershocks. His erection presses against my stomach, and I grin.