His mouth claimed hers with unapologetic hunger, bypassing tenderness and heading straight into a kiss that was ferocious, desperate. His tongue invaded, retreated, then plunged back in, a reckless rhythm that left her breathless. He was a fine wine and dark chocolate, a jolt of adrenaline and a dizzying fall. Millie melted into his heat, craving more than his kisses.
She pressed her hips into his, her sigh mingling with his low groan. Yes. More. Of everything he could give her. Work could wait.
But Taz stepped back, his hands the only tether between them as they traced the line of her jaw, his expression fierce yet controlled. ‘Why did you stop?’ The question slipped out before she realised she’d spoken.
His voice was rough, strained. ‘Because I don’t want it to be over too fast. I want more for you than fast.’
Her laugh was breathy, laced with need. ‘I don’t mind fast.’
Taz shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking into a wicked smile. ‘Not this time, Mils.’
His shortening her name softened her. It made her feel claimed and cherished. Dangerous thoughts. This wasn’t love—itcouldn’tbe. But when he bent and swept her into his arms, carrying her with effortless strength, the lines between what was possible and what was not, between sex and love, blurred.
In the bedroom, decorated in soft sea-greens and whites, he set her down in front of a tall, free-standing mirror. Moving to stand behind her, with a sexy combination of need and simmering restraint, he met her eyes in the glass. His hands came to rest on her shoulders, his touch scorching her skin through the fabric of her shirt.
‘Your only job is to watch me,’ he commanded softly, his voice like smoke and silk.
With aching slowness, from behind her he undid the buttons of her shirt, revealing her skin inch by inch. His hands traced her collarbone and slid the fabric from her arms, and she shivered as her lace bra came into view. He kissed the curve of her neck, cupped her breasts and kneaded them with reverence and complete focus. Her nipples pebbled under his touch, and her breath caught.
‘Look at yourself,’ he murmured, voice roughened by desire. ‘See how beautiful you are. You’re luscious, Millie. Bold and bright.’
‘No, I’m just—’
‘Just gorgeous, and so sexy you make me dizzy,’ he muttered, in his sex-and-sandpaper voice. He shook her lightly. ‘Look at yourself. See what I see.’
Her reflection in the mirror shocked her. A sexy woman, one she barely recognised, stared back at her with flushed cheeks and eyes dark with desire. She was luminous and vibrant. Someone who could, and should, be confident in her own skin, in what she could offer the world. In what she could offerhim. Maybe it was time to start seeing herself differently, to break the habit of putting herself down.
Taz’s hands left her breasts to unclasp her bra, the straps falling away like ribbons, baring her completely.
Her breath hitched as he slid a hand beneath the waistband of her shorts, the other hand caressing her spine. ‘God, Millie,’ he rasped, voice hoarse with need. ‘You’re stunning. I can’t wait to be inside you.’
Swept away with the raw intensity in his voice, her inhibitions dissolved. Millie hastily shed her clothes and stood between him and the mirror, clothed in nothing but heat and hunger. Taz moved to kneel, his shoulders pushing her thighs apart, and she gasped. Too much. Too intimate.
‘Trust me,’ he whispered.
She did. He kissed her there, where no one but him had kissed her, with such tenderness, such raw intensity. Sparkling sensations rolled over her, pulling her under, scattering her thoughts like wedding confetti. His mouth painted magic over her skin, his fingers teased, and when her climax hit, it was an obliteration, a release that left her trembling and weightless. Transformed.
Taz pulled back, his face flushed, his chest heaving as he gazed at her with reverent satisfaction, pleased by her response, utterly confident in his skill.
He stood, a towering figure of strength and passion, and she held out her hand, lacing her fingers with his. ‘Now, Taz,’ she whispered. ‘Make love to me.’
And when he kissed her again, slow and consuming, Millie wondered if this was love, if Taz was the man she’d hand her heart to. What would he do with it if she did?
Would he cherish it or crush it?
But as long as he kept kissing her like this, she didn’t really care.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE NEXT EVENING, Taz stood by the edge of the infinity pool, the cool night air brushing against his bare chest. With only a towel wrapped around his hips, he scowled at the Mediterranean Sea, its surface unnervingly still.
He should’ve been enjoying shower sex with Millie, and the taste of her mouth still lingered on his lips, the heat of her body pressed against his. Instead, his jaw was tight, and his hands flexed at his sides as he relived the moment that had shattered their intimacy.
The insistent, strident ringing of his phone.
He’d heard it even through the rush of water in the power shower, but he’d ignored it. Who cared about the rest of the world when Millie was naked in his arms? His soapy hands had been sliding over her curves, her skin slick and warm beneath his touch, when the braying ringing broke the moment.
Reluctantly, he’d stepped out of the shower, water dripping off him as he snatched up the towel and wrapped it around his waist. He’d reached for the phone, already annoyed, and that was when his afternoon rapidly slid downhill.
