“ I’m not a notch on a belt.”“You could never be a notch, London Chantelle. You’re the whole belt, sugar. ”
Jonathan took her hand. “Christiana.”“Yes?” Her rosebud lips parted on an involuntary sigh, and his imagination got the better of his intellect. It took every ounce of control to not crush her . . . take her right then and there.“I shouldn’t have . . . .” He had no right to her. She had not given herself to him. He had yet to even ask, and he shouldn’t. Washington was unforgiving in many matters and getting involved with a nineteen year-old would prove fatal. He already tested the boundaries with his sexual proclivities.“No, please. Do it again.
~ Elizabeth Safleur
He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into him with an unyielding strength. She’d been unmistakably seized.
He brought his lips and hot breath close to her ear. “And once I have you bound and helpless, how should I take you? Missionary? From behind? Against the wall?” He pulled back to face her. “Or all ways?”She inched her legs further apart, and nodded.
She wanted to know what his body would feel like under her hands. Her palms slid, almost as if under someone else’s control, under his jacket until she embraced his waist. His jacket, now parted on either side of her, left only a thin shirt and her dress between her belly and the ridges she felt across his abdomen. She was right about what she’d imagined under his suit.