“But surely I am a hostile myself in your eyes.”
“Your charade when we met was cruel,” she told him, forcing the words to be a reproachful whisper and nothing more.
“But it wasn’t really a charade. You quickly saw all that I am.”
“Perhaps that’s true,” she murmured. She lifted a hand in a helpless gesture. “I just…I was surprised that you would leave without saying a word. I didn’t want you to leave with—with so much hostility between us.”
“Ah!” he murmured. He was behind her again, his fingers on her shoulders moving lightly beneath the straps of her silk gown. His husky whisper was warm against her ear. “Then could it be that you missed me last night?”
One of the straps fell from her shoulder. He pressed his lips against her bare flesh. She closed her eyes, stunned by the sensations that such a simple touch could create within her. Something hot and powerful seemed to race through her body. She gritted her teeth together very hard. In all the times that she had fought the arousal his touch created, she had never felt quite so swiftly inundated with desire.
Tonight, when it mattered most that she take the greatest care…
“I…” It was difficult to speak. She had come here to seduce him. To tantalize him, elicit promises from him. But his arms had slipped around her from behind. The searing brush of his mouth moved against her shoulder. His right hand stroked down her side, over her ribs, cupped her breast through the silk, his thumb and forefinger rubbing her nipple erotically through the thin fabric. She began to ache, burn, long…
For more.
“Did you…miss me?” he whispered against her flesh.
“I…”
She had to remember why she had come. “Yes, I did. I will miss you. Must you…go?”
For a moment, he stopped caressing her.
“Yes, I must,” he told her.
“If you must leave me…”
“Yes?”
“Would you please make arrangements so that I can be more independent from the household?”
There was silence, just his touch, then a murmur.
“Ummm…”
He agreed, did he?
He shifted the other strap of the gown from her shoulder, pressing his lips once more where his fingers had been. She was vaguely aware of the sultry feel of the silk as it slid down over herbreasts and her hips to the floor. Both of his hands were upon her breasts, encircling them, palming them, the touch almost unbearably erotic.
“Of course, my dear, for a woman of such inestimable value!” he whispered very huskily. His hands moved over her, skimming her ribs. Her waist, her hips. His lips continued to move over her bare shoulders. His hands moved lower, his palms pressing upon her mound, his fingers stroking lower against her thighs. She felt his mouth, moving downward, stroke by stroke, his tongue touching upon the vertebrae in her back. Unwittingly she leaned against him, arching like a cat to capture the exquisite feel of him. She’d promised never to give herself to him, and she’d kept that promise. Yet tonight she had a mission, and she was suddenly achingly glad of that mission because she so desperately longed to allow herself to feel, perhaps, to give… Suddenly he turned her within his arms, cupping her chin, raising her face to his. His kiss was fierce, his tongue forcing her lips apart, stroking and ravaging her mouth. He moved back slightly, ripping open his white shirt, then drawing her against him. Fire snaked through her. She rose up on her toes, hesitant, then daring, kissing his throat, tasting the bronze flesh with the tip of her tongue, instinctively discovering the right movements, savoring the heat of his bronzed chest. He wrenched the shirt from his body. She continued to move against his chest, her hair brushing his flesh, her lips, tongue, and teeth teasing it. He threaded his fingers into her hair, lifting her face to his once again, finding her lips, kissing her with hot, open-mouthed passion as he kicked off his boots, then unbuckled his belt urgently with his free hand, dropping his pants. Still holding her to his kiss, he stepped from them. She drew from the heady force of his kiss, gasping and trembling, yet craving more. She touched him, moved against him, exploring each ripple and crease of his muscles, finding an erotic new power in the shudders she sentrippling forcefully through his body. There was a curious sweet pleasure in knowing him, in glorying in him, in realizing how finely honed he was, how perfect in his masculinity. There was that…and then a reckless, spiraling fever, a need that surged in her blood. She wasn’t aware of anything but the heat emanating from him, the power of him, her need for him. Everything within her cried out to respond to the least suggestion from him. Instinct alone made her crush herself fully against him, rubbing her breasts and body down the length of his as she slipped to her knees. Her hands cradled the hardness of his buttocks. She nuzzled his thighs, the silk of her hair teasing him with her every movement. His fingers curled into the tendrils. A shudder ripped and tore violently through the length of her as she first tentatively curled her fingers around his sex. Nothing had ever seemed so hot, so vivid, so filled with violent pulsing. His fingers dug with greater pressure into her hair. Crushed her against him. Again, instinct told her what to do. And the sensual fever that ran hotly through her body caused her to do it well.
She was suddenly all but dragged to her feet and thrown upon the bed. He caught her knees and forced them apart. She braced, her eyes closed, expecting the savage thrust of his body. Instead she felt his touch, parting her, opening her. Felt his hair brush her thighs, his fingers probe, caress, discover…
She gasped, tossing and struggling to be freed from his weight. She’d never imagined there could be such a tiny part of her body that created such agonizingly sweet sensations. Yet it was not over. The sensations built slowly, deliberately, until the whole of her body was racked with them, the climax burning throughout her, so sweetly intense that the world seemed to blacken and pale.
And only then did she feel the force of him invade her. The fullness of his body penetrating her. She lay still, stunned at first, unable to move, aware only of the size and force and fullnessof him. Then suddenly, it began again. Friction that seduced. That created new fire, ignited her hunger again, the need again, the yearning. The desperate desire to reach that pinnacle again when the light of the fire seemed to burst, and to saturate her body with the deliciousness of it…
His climax was the catalyst to hers. The staggering force of him against her as he rained his seed into her brought the searing sensations within her to a peak. Her nails clawed heedlessly into his shoulders and back. Gasps and sobs were wrenched from her. She was drenched with perspiration, keenly aware of the wetness and sleekness of his body as well, yet once again the sheer intensity of the sensation seemed to create blinding light…and then a fall of gray shadows upon her…
Later, she was aware. Aware that she lay at his side, aware that the bed remained covered, that they both lay naked. The candles had burned down to nothing. They were in his room. She had come here. To do this.
Yet it didn’t matter. She was still steeped in the extraordinary sensations she’d experienced. She’d tasted before the possibilities of pleasure she could have at his hands, but she’d never imagined how amazingly exquisite it would be. She wanted to close her eyes and savor the feelings forever, be cocooned within them.
At her side, he shifted. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her.
“Just how much money is it that you want?”
