It Takes a Thief

Available Soon to Ellora's Cave

Sometimes a woman has to take a flying leap of faith--even if it's into the arms of a man hell-bent on her destruction.

When Tiffany Cartierri succumbs to a night of lust in the arms of a handsome, dark-eyed stranger, she has no idea their paths will cross again a week later. Nor can she stop herself from craving Ian Soria's lovemaking.

But the theft of a rare, emerald-encrusted artifact--Isabella's Belt--places them on opposing sides in a desperate attempt to recover the priceless artifact and discover who not only stole the Belt but who is trying to frame Tiffany for both the theft and murder.

An Excerpt

Copyright © DEE BRICE, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Without breaking the kiss, Ian lifted Tiffany into his arms and carried her to his bathroom.  There, votive candles cast a soft glow over the room. The ice bucket sweated on the wide ledge surrounding the bubbling water. He settled her there, on the ledge where, anticipating this moment, he had placed a thick, warm towel. And had hidden a condom in its folds.

“Would you like a glass of wine,” he whispered in her ear, and then gently laved its shell with his tongue.  She shivered and a soft moan escaped her kissed-reddened lips. Every muscle in his body tightened and his penis swelled and urged him to take her now. To plunge fast and deep and never mind that he had not prepared her for his size or his need.

“Yes, please,” she said in a throaty murmur that made him want to bury himself in her mouth, in her womb.

He filled a chilled glass, held it to her lips for a small sip, and spilled the remainder down her chest.

“I shall clean you,” he muttered, his tongue lapping at first one swollen nipple then the other.  “You like that, yes?”

“God, yes.”

He needed no more encouragement. He suckled. She moaned louder and, tangling her fingers in his hair, pressed his face tighter to her. Laving and sucking, he eased his hand down her ribs, over her hip to her knees.  Exerting a light pressure, he celebrated when her legs opened, giving him free access to her.

With a patience he had not known he possessed, he rubbed her clit, felt her jerk and try to close her legs.  He stilled his hand, sucked her nipple harder until her knees again opened, wider this time, inviting him to stroke her.

Rubbing her with his thumb, he eased his thick middle finger into her.

“Dios, you are tight.”  He throbbed, needing to bury himself in her.  Now!

Instead, he eased his finger deeper and was rewarded by her pulsing climax.

He pulled his mouth away from her nipple, pulled his finger from her, and plunged his tongue deep into her. Dios, she tasted good—like nectar from the gods.

She screamed and arched her hips upward.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he eased her onto the floor and plunged into as her climax reached another peak.

“Look at me,” he demanded. She tossed her head and squeezed her eyelids even tighter.  He withdrew until he was barely inside her.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“Then look at me.” She slit her eyes open. “Look at us.”

 Propping himself on one elbow, he directed her gaze downward. She gasped and tried to toss him aside. When he inched himself deeper, she stopped struggling, sighed, and arched her hips to take him completely into welcoming, wet heat.

“I want you to scream for me again. Now, and again when you come again.”

She shook her head, but her body betrayed her. He began the ancient rhythm and she matched him, withdrawal for withdrawal, lunge for lunge.

He increased his pace, his breath wheezing in and out like a locomotive on a steep uphill climb.

“Not again,” she pleaded.  “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.  We will,” he promised, spewing into her pulsing core. He yelled in triumph and swallowed her scream of release.

He collapsed on her. She sighed and nuzzled his neck.

“How do you feel” he asked, brushing damp, silky tendrils away from her flushed cheeks and forehead.

“I’m starving.”

Laughing, he stood with her still wrapped around him, her arms wreathed around his neck, her legs around his waist. He got as far as the bedroom before her trembling aroused him again and he lowered them to the wide bed.

“Are you very hungry?” he demanded, losing himself in the pools of her shimmering eyes.

“Ravenous.”

“Truly?”

“Can’t you feel how hungry I am?” she whispered just before her lips claimed his and her body began again its sensuous, sinuous dance.