Driven By Fate(14)

She disappeared into the hallway leading to the staircase connecting the two floors. “Francesca, you will stop immediately.”

“Go to hell,” she called back, before descending the stairs into his living space. Christ, he had to catch up with her. If she left like this, undressed and upset, he’d have a f*cking seizure. This wasn’t the plan. What had happened to his plan?

He charged into the foyer of his apartment to find her pulling the white T-shirt over her head, hands shaking, muttering to herself. Porter positioned himself between her and the front door…and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know where the impulse came from, but it felt like the right thing to do. And damn it all, she felt very good against him. Very, very good. She went totally still for a moment before starting to struggle. “What are you doing?”

Good question. “I don’t make a habit of holding women against their will, but I cannot let you leave like this.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, that’s a crying shame, because I’m not sticking around.” She tried to pull free and he had no choice but to let her. Her slender fingers worked to turn the leggings right side out, but halfway through the task, she threw them across the foyer. “That wasn’t easy for me, you know? Taking my clothes off for some uptight prick that I don’t even like. I’m new to this, but I was trying.”

Porter swallowed. “I told you, I’m not a beginner’s course. I was very clear on that point.”

She threw up her hands and let them drop. “Maybe that’s what I need. Because I sure as shit don’t need to be mocked or ignored.”

Was that what he’d been doing? It hadn’t been his direct intention. When she took two brisk steps toward her discarded leggings, he moved into her path. Her body vibrated with anger, silver eyes almost reflective with temper. His body hummed with the need to soothe, but he had work to do, pride to repair. Hoping she wouldn’t rip off his head, Porter brought one hand up and braced the back of her neck, massaging circles with his thumb. “If you don’t like me, why did you undress for me? Why did you come here?”

“Oh, please.” Her turbulent gaze caught on his mouth and raced away. “You’re arrogant enough to know I’m attracted to you. I don’t understand it any more than you understand your attraction to me.”

Smart. So smart and yet not entirely right in her assumption. Every minute he spent with her increased Porter’s understanding of what exactly drew him. Her fire and intelligence. Her beauty. Things that terrified him at the same time. “I don’t want you to leave, Francesca.” He dipped his head to bring their mouths close. “How do I make this okay for you?”

“I don’t know.”

Cautiously, he brought their bodies flush, stifling a groan at the feel of her naked from the waist down, that taut flesh pressed against his pants.

She made a small sound in her throat, hips writhing in a subtle, yet devastating, motion. “If I…submit to you when I’m this mad, I will hate myself afterward. That much I know.”

The look she gave him from beneath her eyelashes imprinted itself on his brain. A signal. A turning point. He couldn’t put a name to what passed between them, but it did a f*cking number on him and—Jesus Christ—his body. She wanted an answer, a solution. Her lithe form continued to brush against his in figure eights, even though her expression told him it was involuntary. Something she didn’t know how to control. She wanted relief but didn’t know how to reconcile physical relief with mental submission. He thought of her checklist of limits, his surprise at her bold choices. Did he dare take this next step? If she reacted badly, he’d never get her back. But something told him he’d lose her anyway if he didn’t try. Right now.

He wound her long hair around his hand. “Would you like me to aid you in submitting to me?”

She gasped, going up on her toes as he yanked the fist-full of hair. The juncture of her thighs dragged over his ready cock. Fuck. “What do you mean? You mean…you’ll make me submit?”

“Yes.”

Francesca moaned, stumbling against him. All because of a single word of confirmation. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, holding her up so he could speak beside her ear. “I mean, I will chase you down, overpower you, and ram my cock as deep as you can take it. I’m going to leave your innocent white panties on while I do it, too. I want a reminder that I’ve got an eager young beginner spreading her legs for me.”

Her sexy, panting breaths warmed his neck. “That’s…that’s what I want.”

The arm banding her waist slipped down to her ass, hauling her against his pulsing arousal. “If you change your mind, you safe word me. Immediately. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, my lord,” she whispered.

Porter was lost after that. If anyone had asked him that morning if he’d seen and done everything the world had to offer, he would have said yes. But when Francesca backed away from him, undiluted lust playing over her gorgeous face, hands clenched at her sides…daring him, challenging him….he could readily admit to himself he might have seen everything, but he’d felt nothing. Nothing like this uncompromising need to possess, one that overrode rational thought and demanded to be obeyed.

She’d put six feet between them when Porter unbuckled his belt and whipped it through all five loops of his pants with a woosh. “I’m giving you a ten second head start.”