Defending Serenty Read Free Page B

jeans, step into the small
bathroom, and flip on the light. Doing a quick mental inventory of
what I need--a towel, a glass of wine, a book and the vibrator--I
hurry back into the bedroom and come to a complete standstill.
Trace lays stretched out on my bed.
    “What the hell are you doing here?”
    “Enjoying the view.”
    He leers at me and I resist the urge to try
and cover myself. Instead, I give him my coldest look.
    “Leave,” I bite out between clenched teeth.
“Before I arrest you for breaking and entering.”
    He jumps up from the bed and looms in front
of me. I hate that I back up, and what is worse, his display of
aggression turns me on. Oh God, please don’t let him touch me.
There is no way I’ll be able to resist him if he closes the inches
separating us. His head dips down and my breathing hitches. This is
it. I’m a goner. He will either kill me or fuck me and I don’t
really care which. I’m an idiot.
    “Waited ten years for this,” he murmurs
before catching my lips with his.
    His tongue is slow and gentle as it slides
over my lower lip and pushes inside my mouth. Gliding over my
teeth, thrusting in and out, it is a tease of a kiss. Frustrated
with its taunting nature, I groan and lean into him, pressing my
breasts against his chest hoping to spur him on. He withdraws,
breathing hard from his effort to stay in control.
    With one arm around my waist, he holds me
still as his other hand wiggles inside my panties and finds my
clit. Arching my back, I press my mound against his fingers. I’m so
close to coming. A little harder, a little faster. I’m not sure if
I pant the words out or he has an instinctive knowledge of my body.
I’m right on the edge, with little tremors beginning in my legs,
when he stops.
    I almost howl with disappointment. My eyes
snap open and I meet his gaze, recoiling at the fury I see there.
If he’s that angry with me, why is he here? His hand still cups my
pussy and his finger flicks over my clit. I can’t repress the
shudder of response or the groan that escapes my lips.
    “Have you let Tim Monroe touch you here?” he
rasps, one long finger pushing into my sex.
    I gasp, riding the sensation, ignoring the
question. A second finger joins the first and they slide leisurely
in and out of me. After a moment he stops, walking me backwards
until I’m against the wall, and he bites my neck.
    “Ow,” I yelp, although I feel more liquid
pool against his fingers at the singular assault.
    He chuckles. “You liked that. I can feel it
here.” He wiggles his fingers deep inside me.
    “I asked you a question, Serenity,” he says,
and though his tone is soft, I hear an underlying edge of
menace.
    “What was the question?”
    “Tim Monroe,” he reminds me.
    “I don’t see that it’s any of your business,”
I respond, knowing my answer is ridiculous under the circumstances.
Trace is not a man to trifle with. He’s capable of anything. I’ve
seen him kill a man.
    His eyes narrow on my face and I feel a spurt
of fear. He lowers his head until we are nose to nose and the hand
that only moments ago had cupped my waist now rests on my
collarbone...and twitches. Sliding it up, he lightly strokes the
sides of my neck. The movement is both tender and threatening at
the same time. I gulp.
    “No,” I whisper. “He hasn’t touched me.”
    “Good,” he says in a hard tone. “This is mine .”
    Removing his fingers from my pussy he pinches
my clit hard enough to send sparks through me. I ride a wave of
pleasure/pain and when he releases his hold on my clitoris to rub
against it, the orgasm breaks over me. I cry out and tremble in his
arms.
     
    Trace
     
    When Serenity’s shudders slow, I pick her up
and carry her to the bed. Dropping her in the center, I stand back
and rip my shirt over my head before yanking off my jeans and
shoes. I toss a handful of condoms to the bedside table--I’d raided
Walker’s supply--and come down on top of her, crushing her into the
mattress.