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Hero: Philip. Self made business man who has all of Chicago under his thumb. Except or the one woman he wants.

Heroine: Claire. Kidnapped for her father’s sins, she is saved by Phillip only to realise she has traded one prison for another.

Anger rose up in full force, but before I could say a word, Philip was out of his seat. I stood to counter him, unwilling to back down. He kept coming at me, undeterred. My body ended up flush against the wall. He stood close enough that his broad chest filled my vision. I had to look up to meet his gaze.

His expression didn’t mirror mine—no anger, no helplessness. Only hunger.

“You have no right,” I said through clenched teeth.

“I have every right.” His thumb brushed my lip. “This mouth. This body. It’s mine. I’m the only man who can touch it, who can fuck it.”

I flinched. “You’re a bastard.”

That earned me a low chuckle. “I’m a bastard because I take what I want. Because I keep what’s mine. Did you imagine it would be any different when it came to you?”

I opened my mouth to respond, even though I didn’t know what I would say. Whatever it was, it would be scathing. It would condemn him. And then his lips brushed over mine, and it was too late.

Time’s up. That was what he’d said in the car. It was what he said now, but not with words. With the achingly soft caress of his lips, the inexorable demand of his tongue. He wanted inside my mouth. He wanted inside my body.

I pressed my lips together, stubborn and resistant—like a child holding her breath to get her way.

It was his hands that convinced me, the way they gripped my hips. There was so much knowledge in that grip, as if they would hold me the same way when he was buried inside me. It undid me. I was no longer a stubborn child, but a woman—and my lips parted on a sigh of surrender.

He took every advantage, pushing my mouth open so there was nothing I could do but submit to him. His exploration was both thorough and sensual. There was an animal grace to the flick of his tongue, to the power of his body. It didn’t feel like payment for him helping my brother. It didn’t feel like a question either. It felt like he was taking something from me—and the base part of me gave in without a fight.
Firm hands pulled my hips flush against him. I could feel the ridge of his erection, and he ground me on it—not moving his body against mine, but instead mine against his, using me to give himself friction. Heat bloomed between my legs, my secret spaces desperate for that same motion deep inside me.

When he pulled back, I was panting and flushed. I bit my lip to keep from begging for more.

His cheeks were dark, eyes like onyx.

The moment was charged with desire, with danger. My heart knocked against my ribs, and I waited for him to tell me what that was. To tell me what he wanted. I waited for him, the way he had waited for me all these years.

His gaze sharpened, and I thought he might say something important. Something personal. Then a steel gate slammed down on his expression, leaving the cold, detached man in his place. This man might not have been kissing me just seconds ago. This man didn’t feel a thing.

“Consider that your down payment,” he said.

 

Deep by Skye Warren is the 7th installment in her Chicago Underground series. A series that revolves around one family. Each can be read as a stand alone but there is an over extended arc that runs though the entire series. Deep is available now for purchase.