The billionaire's reluctant mistress

Chapter 19

Chapter 19:

Before Rachel knew what had happened she found herself in the middle of the dancefloor with Dalziel's arms around her. She took one deep, measured breath and managed to bite back the adamant refusal she wanted to utter. She had no desire to give him the satisfaction. Composing her features into a polite mask, she held herself stiffly in his arms, refusing to recognize the familiar warmth of his body.

“For God's sake, relax, Rachel!” he commanded bluntly.

“I wasn't ready! You dragged me out here.” she snapped back.

He sneered mockingly. 'I thought for a moment you were afraid of me.' And, trapping her hand with his own firmly against his muscular chest, he slid his other arm around her waist and drew her closer.

The muscular hardness of his thighs moving seductively against her made her shockingly aware of his potent masculinity. For a second, she almost succumbed to the sensuality his body was offering, then sanity prevailed. She tried to wriggle free of his firm hold, but he easily restrained her. For a moment, Dalziel's hand tightened around Rachel's waist, and she looked up into his eyes, only to realize that he had been drinking a lot more than she had expected. His face was red and his eyes were cloudy; his steps were not as steady as usual. The dance ended awkwardly. Rachel couldn't help but say, "Dalziel, I honestly think you're not feeling well today. You should go home and rest early."

Unexpectedly, he nodded: "I really don't feel well."

Perhaps all of his troubles today were simply because he was drunk. In the past, every time I drank alcohol, I would just go to bed and sleep until the drunkenness dissipated. But life changes, people change. Rachel was a little worried: “Are you driving today?”

“I drove here by myself.”

"You can't drive home like this."

"Right."

Rachel bit her lip and decided, "Let me help you call a cab."

To her surprise, Dalziel obediently nodded. They went back to the dining table to get their jackets, and Rachel pulled out her phone. She opened Uber as she followed Dalziel out of the room. It took Rachel a few minutes to write down the complex address for the boat but, suddenly realizing something was wrong, she raised her head and looked around. The corridor was quiet and the closed doors on each side made her feel like she was in a fancy hotel. Despite this, she could still hear music echoing from below.

Dalziel's footsteps sounded determined as if he knew how to get out.

Rachel worriedly said, “Dalziel, are you sure this is the way? Looks like we’re lost.”

Two steps ahead of her, his arm still clutching hers. Dalziel just nodded brucely.

They stopped in front of the door at the end of the corridor, Dalziel expertly took a magnetic card from his pocket and opened the door. Before Rachel knew what was going on, she was dragged inside.

“Dalziel, what are you doing?” Rachel asked, panicking when she realized this was a bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her, cutting off all outside sound. The quiet space made Rachel realize how close the two of them were. His masculine scent overpowered her senses. Dalziel looked down at Rachel’s face, then to her neck, and finally onto her breasts peeking out invitingly from the fabric of her dress. His gaze returned to caress her face. Rachel's face turned red, and she felt that his silence was dangerous.

“Dalziel, we need to go home.” She reminded him weakly.

But Dalziel responded by tilting his head and gently kissing her. Their lips barely touched while his thumb stroked Rachel’s cheek. She was too shocked to react. Her mouth was open, swallowing his breath. The heat of his hand made her skin hot. A strange feeling of joy and pain welled up, a feeling she hadn't felt in years. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Rachel felt suffocated. Looking at Dalziel's beautiful eyes that were blurred with passion, a memory came rushing back to her. At that time, he was still Flynn, her Flynn. She remembered how his hand used to gently touch the most unexpected places on her body, causing the flames of desire to burn ever brighter.

Consumed by the memory, she was shocked to realize that his thumb had pulled down the lace of the top of her dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra; the upper half of her body was completely exposed.

He growled uncontrollably in his throat, his arm skillfully spinning her round. Rachel was facing the door, and Dalziel hugged her from behind, his lips moving over her neck, his hands touching all over her bare upper body.

"No, don't…" Rachel used all her remaining rationality to protest, wanting to get out, but was hugged ever tighter by him, ten fingers greedily caressing her soft breasts.

His lips slowly moved to the bottom of her earlobes, biting into her flesh each time he kissed her, releasing a moan of satisfaction at the same time. "Stop…" She struggled to get out of his embrace, but was caught by him again, pulling her wrists over the top of her head, pressing her body against the wall, making it impossible for her to get out.

His lips suddenly covered hers, swallowing the shrill scream inside. Her soft lips were locked against his; he tasted of alcohol and tobacco.

"I'm tired of having to pretend to be polite." He whispered.

“You're being ridiculous, Dalziel. Please... let me go.” She tried to reason, and wasn't above pleading for her release. She was more scared than she had ever been in her life.

'Ridiculous? Yes, I was once. My God! You even made me feel guilty for wanting you. ‘Leave her alone, she is happy in her marriage!’, I told myself, and then you laughed in my face.” He was ranting, fury clear and plain in his eyes.

“By God, I thought I wasn't worthy to touch your saintly body. What a f*****g joke... Now any man can have you for a price…” His beautiful and dark, yet burning, eyes rested on her pale face, and his hand curved around her bare shoulder and with a jerk he pulled her hard against him. She didn't understand half of what he was saying, but she had to tell him before this went any further. She raised her face to his, and the merciless expression in his eyes seemed to burn into her soul. He was pitiless in his rage and looked capable of anything. Her body was trembling so much that she could hardly control it. Nervously she ran the tip of her tongue over dry lips. “Please-----”

He didn't let her finish. His dark head lowered and he brought his mouth down with punishing ferocity upon hers, forcing her lips apart, plundering the soft inner tissue until she tasted the bitterness of her own blood on her tongue. It was no lover's kiss, but a kiss of angry, savage possession.

His hand at her back, holding her wrists, forced her against his muscled thighs. She felt the hard potency of his masculine arousal, and an unwanted flood of s****l awareness consumed her trembling body. She tried to resist the shattering sensual impact, but when his other hand slid from her shoulder to cup one full breast a shaft of arrowing excitement seemed to shoot from her breast to her loins.

She whimpered low in her throat and, as though it was a signal Dalziel had been waiting for, his mouth eased on hers, and his hand released her wrists to curve around her waist and bend her back over his arm.

Rachel knew she could break free but his fingers had found the pert pink tip of her n****e and plucked gently, bringing it to a tight hard nub of aching desire. His hand roamed tauntingly from one to the other, and she was delirious with the pleasure he gave. His mouth grazed her throat, and her back arched in willing anticipation of the feel of his mouth on her sensitive breasts.

Of their own volition, her slender arms slid up and under his shirt to cling shamelessly to his broad shoulders.