Page 66 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

EVA

I sat with my hands clasped tightly in my lap, trying—and failing—to maintain some semblance of composure.

Jareth occupied the chair beside me, just an arm’s length away.

Though I couldn’t see what he was looking at, I could see the grin widening on his face as he clicked, scrolled, and clicked again on my laptop.

A swirl of heat coiled low in my belly simply from being so near him and knowing what he was doing.

“I can’t believe people actually post this,” Jareth murmured, his tone almost casual despite the flicker of something darker that lit his eyes.

“You’ve said that three times now.” My palms were clammy, and I had to fight the urge to wipe them on my jeans.

I tried to focus on the smaller monitor in front of me, a second monitor from work, but no matter how determined I was, the images Jareth was looking at seemed to burn themselves into my mind.

The flush creeping up my neck wasn’t entirely from embarrassment.

Jareth shifted in his seat, angling the screen just enough so that I could see a man having sex with two women. “What’s the matter, Delgado? You’re squirming again.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. “I’m not squirming,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest in a vain attempt at looking self-assured.

But my body betrayed me by shifting in the chair, the mounting tension impossible to ignore.

It started as a subtle flutter but grew every time he gave a low, rumbling chuckle or scrolled to whatever new content was on that screen.

“You’re terrible at lying,” Jareth said, arching an eyebrow. “Want me to stop?”

A dozen retorts fought their way up my throat, but none made it out.

Of course I should tell him to shut it down, to stop with this teasing.

The rational part of my brain screamed that this was a terrible idea.

Jareth looking at porn while I sat next to him?

How had it even come to this? All I’d wanted to do was show him how to use the internet, not look at massive dicks being sucked and nipples being flicked.

And a woman being taken from behind while she deep-throated another cock.

And yet, the rest of me kept silent. I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. My entire body felt alive, and on edge in a way that made me crave more, not less.

“That’s what I thought,” he drawled languidly. Beneath the casual tone, I sensed something predatory. Jareth was a man who wore cockiness like a second skin, but this was more than mere ego. This was a calculated push, a test—and I was failing it spectacularly.

A quiet click of the keys echoed in the stillness of the room.

Jareth typed something else into the search bar, his fingers moving slowly, almost suggestively.

I caught a glimpse of the new words he typed before he pressed Enter.

ORAL SEX . He settled back in his seat, eyes darkening as he scanned the images or links that popped up.

“Seriously?” I managed, my voice embarrassingly breathy. My pulse hammered so loudly in my ears that I only half registered the roll of thunder outside.

“Relax,” Jareth said, still in that same offhanded tone. “If you’ll stop being such a prude, you might learn something.”

“I don’t—” I began but faltered as he turned in his chair to look at me fully. There was heat in his gaze, a challenge that made my breath catch.

“Don’t what?” he teased, leaning closer. “Don’t want to? Don’t need to? Or don’t know how to admit you’re enjoying this?”

That made me bristle, but even so, a traitorous quiver raced down my spine. “You’re the worst, Jareth.”

“And you’re still sitting here, watching the screen while your cheeks grow redder and redder.” His voice dropped, the casual edge softening but no less insistent. “If you want me to stop, say the word.”

I forced my eyes away from him and stared at my own blank screen. My lips parted, but no words emerged. There was a magnetism in him I couldn’t deny, and an annoying little voice in my head whispered that I didn’t actually want him to stop.

Jareth’s fingers brushed against my wrist. The featherlight touch sent a jolt of electricity through. I tensed, my heart in my throat.

“You keep testing me, Delgado. Careful, or you’ll get exactly what you’re asking for.”

Defiance and excitement twisted in my stomach. “What if I want that?” The words left my mouth before I could filter them. My tone was surprisingly steady, even if my pulse was not.

He chuckled roughly. “Then you’d better be ready.”

Without another word, Jareth grabbed the silk scarf I’d draped over the back of the chair. My mind sputtered, torn between protesting and succumbing to the anticipation surging through me.

“What are you?—?”

“Do you trust me, Eva?”

I nodded.

“Are you comfortable with me tying you up? I promise to be gentle.”

Tying me up? That was new. Desire pooled deep inside me. “Okay. But shouldn’t we set boundaries?”

Jareth nodded. “Of course. I’d like to explore every fucking inch of you, Eva. And I’d like to be in control. But if you tell me to stop, I will.

I nodded even though a thousand impulses warred inside me: to stand, to run, to protest. I didn’t like giving up control.

But none of those impulses prevailed over the trust I had in Jareth.

I remained seated, heart pounding as Jareth moved behind my chair.

He nudged me forward and drew my hands behind my back.

The silk slid over my skin like a whisper.

He looped it once, then twice, and I felt the tension of the material binding my hands.

The sensation was intense, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once. Every nerve in my body hummed.

He secured the ends of the scarf, then checked the knots. “Too tight?” he asked.

“No.” My mouth felt dry, but my entire body thrummed with awareness. “It’s fine.”

Satisfied, he stepped in front of me and tilted my chin up with a single finger. The molten intensity in his eyes made me feel simultaneously fragile and fierce. “Don’t move.”

His lips claimed mine, and all my worries fell away. Nothing else mattered in this moment but him and me. The kiss began slowly, testing and deliberate. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. Bound hands or not, I found myself leaning into him, seeking more of that dangerous heat.

Jareth’s hands traveled down my shoulders to my waist, then around to my back, as though memorizing my shape.

My senses sharpened. Every brush of his fingertips was magnified by me not being able to touch him.

When he broke the kiss, I gasped for air, my eyes fluttering open. His gaze was dark and full of hunger.

“I like you like this,” he breathed, a rough edge to his voice. “Restrained and at my mercy.”

A spark of alarm mingled with desire. I had given him this control, and some part of me relished it.

His gaze roamed over me. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” A thunderclap sounded in the distance, and the storm outside raged louder. The corners of his mouth curved into a wolfish grin. “Now let’s see what else you’ve been hiding.”

He slowly lifted my shirt enough to reveal my lacy bra. Even as a flush of self-consciousness warmed my cheeks, a thrill rippled through me at the pure, unadulterated lust in his eyes.

Without warning, he swept me off the chair and onto the desk. The movement scattered a couple of pens and a notepad onto the floor. My breath hitched at the cold wood beneath my thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat coursing through me.

He trailed kisses along my jaw, then down the column of my neck.

I tilted my head back, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

The sensation of his mouth against my skin, the silk taut around my wrists and my hands tied behind my back was almost too much.

My senses flooded with each press of his lips, each gentle nibble that left me arching closer to him.

“Jareth…”

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“ Jareth ,” I repeated, heat flaring in my belly at the intensity in his gaze.

His only response was a low rumble of approval.

Then he lifted me off the desk entirely, his arms bracketing my thighs.

I could feel his body’s heat through his clothes, could feel each subtle shift of his muscles.

My bound wrists pressing against his strong arms, reminding me again how much control I’d relinquished.

He set me on my feet in the narrow hallway leading toward the bedroom, my back against the wall. Jareth glanced at the shadows, then back at me.

He brushed the back of his hand over my cheek. “You’re trembling.”

I parted my lips to protest, to tell him I wasn’t afraid, but the words got lost when he moved closer.

One of his hands cupped my face, the other gripped my hip, holding me in place.

The next kiss tore away whatever remained of my hesitation.

No gentle exploration this time—the press of his mouth was demanding, urgent.

I yielded, letting the wave of arousal and reckless desire carry me.

“This damn shirt is getting in the way,” he whispered into my ear. He raked his hands over my breasts and to my stomach, barely lifting the hem of my shirt. “I could easily take care of this with one rip.”

That turned me on more than I’d thought it would. I didn’t give a fuck about my damn shirt. I nodded, giving him permission.

Jareth partially shifted so fast I didn’t even see it happen. He used his claws to rip my shirt from my body, then shifted fully back to his human form. He continued kissing my neck, grabbing my ass, as he made me walk backward.

By the time we reached the bedroom, my knees were weak. Jareth turned the knob with a single backward motion of his hand, then nudged me inside. He guided me to the edge of the bed, helping me sit. He untied my wrists and rubbed my arms.

“You okay?” he asked, a rare softness in his tone.

I nodded. My heart pounded, but no part of me wanted him to stop. “Yes.”