Sneak Peek of BOUGHT

BOUGHT by Shanna Handel

ERIN

He lays me back on the bed like he’s claiming space in time, his weight settling beside mine. The room shrinks to the sound of his movements. The feel of my breath is ragged, uneven, and strung tight with everything we’ve been holding back.

I was naive to believe my plan was simple, that the man I was meeting would mean nothing to me, as easily forgotten as yesterday’s breakfast.

I’ve accepted how wrong I was.

But the moment he grabs my arms, lifts them above my head, circles my wrists with just his forefinger and thumb, and pins me to the bed with one hoarse word, “Mine.”

I know this man will burn me to the ground.

And he hasn’t even been inside me yet.

His lips are warm, breath soft, the kisses he trails down my neck feel like absolute heaven, sending that indescribable feeling of deliciousness all over my skin.

His free hand skims down my side, over the curve of my hip, stopping at the edge of my dress. He looks at me like he’s asking and commanding all at once.

“Take this off,” he murmurs.

And for once, I don’t have a saucy comeback for him.

He lets me go. My arms drop to my sides, palms pressing against the bed as I sit up. The dress has a zipper on the side, impossible to unzip while sitting. 

Shyness overwhelms me I stand before him.

He lays on his side, elbow on the bed, his handsome face cradled in his powerful hand.

My fingers tremble as I grab for the zipper, but he free hand flies out, catches my wrist, steadying it.

“Slow,” he orders, voice low eyes dangerous. “I want to watch.”

Gone is the brazen nerve I had that first night, demanding he undress first.

“You’re trembling,” he says.

“I know.”

His grip tightens, a band of fire around my wrist. “I’m still going to claim you. Every inch all for myself.” He drops his hand onto the bed.

Heat sears through me. I slowly unzip, the gauzy fabric loosening around me. When I push the sleeves off my shoulders, the top pools around my waist. 

His gaze darkens, jaw clenched, as if he’s struggling to hold back. “God damn, you’re a beautiful woman.”

His words unravel me, and I don’t try to stop them. Whether they’re true doesn’t matter. He fully believes them, so I do too.

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