His Mistress with Two Secrets(11)

When she returned, Henri was inside the suite. The lighting fell in subdued angles off the wall sconces and from the patio lanterns below the balcony, setting an intimate tone while the music inside the club pulsed in muted rhythm through the walls.

Henri had raided his swag bag for a box of chocolate truffles with a Belgian label and was opening one wrapped in gold foil. A ball of discarded foil was already on the table next to the box.

“I have a sweet tooth,” he admitted ruefully, offering the truffle.

“No, thanks. I’ll, um, go. This was nice. Thank you.” She stuck out her hand, feeling like an idiot the moment she did it.

He set aside the chocolate and brought out his phone. “I’ll order the car and take you.”

“I can manage.”

He gave her a pithy look. “I meant it about not feeling obligated. I can drive you home without attacking you. I’ve made my appearance here. I don’t plan to stay.”

It wasn’t him she was worried about. She was half-tempted to ask him to find the nearest vacant hotel room. Vera’s voice was playing in her head, extolling the virtues of being a modern woman who owned her sexuality. You eat if you’re hungry, don’t you?

Cinnia was sexually hungry. She put it down to the excitement of dressing up for an extravagant evening, the soft breeze caressing her skin and champagne relaxing her. Henri was very attractive and she would bet any money he easily satisfied the most exotic of appetites.

“I think it’s best if we end it here.” She felt like a coward and couldn’t help looking at his mouth again. She wanted him to kiss her. She really did. Her blood thickened in her arteries, throbbing with anticipation.

He quirked his lips. “If you tell me you have an allergy to chocolate, I’m going to be disappointed.”

“I’ll survive,” she murmured, recognizing that she was consenting to a kiss. “My affairs are in order if I don’t. And what a story to tell my grandchildren if I do.” She said it to be cheeky, to keep this light and disguise that she was intrigued by him.

His breath rushed out in an incredulous ha, but he wasn’t deterred. He crowded close, hands opening on her waist and drawing her forward into him.

“I’d best make it memorable then.”

She wore low kitten heels and he was very tall, well over six feet and overwhelming as he bent his head to brush his mouth against hers.

She clutched his shoulders for balance, shivering lightly, head instantly swimming. Was that it? She swallowed and wet her lips then parted them, inviting a more thorough goodbye than that.

He started to smile and she knew his move had been a deliberate tease to make her want more. He moved in like a damned marauder then covered her mouth fully, angling to plunder. Claiming.

She curled her fingers against his shoulders, feeling them tense as he drew her closer. She moaned as she kissed him back, quickly over her head and suddenly drowning. He buffeted her senses, filling her brain with the faint scent of aftershave and masculinity, enfolding her as she melted under a flood of arousal. His tongue came into her mouth and she tasted dark chocolate and darker intention.

He wanted her. She could feel how hard he was against her stomach. Her own body grew hot and achy in seconds. Longing struck her loins and she looped her arms fully around his neck to mash her breasts against his chest.

Too much, she thought as she did it, knowing it was a signal of receptiveness, but it was pure instinct. Wanton need.

She drew back, gasped once for air, then found herself kissing him again. Just once more. Okay twice. The third time she might have found her willpower, but the solidness of a wall arrived at her back. He ran his lips down her throat and slid his hand to cradle her breast.

“Oh,” she breathed, loving the gentle way he massaged, then found her nipple through the fringe, circling and teasing. Her knee came up to his thigh of its own accord, making space for him to settle against her aching mons.

He growled his approval and ran his hand up her thigh, taking the hem of her dress up to her waist, hooking his forearm behind her knee and caressing her bottom as she picked her hips up off the wall and met his suggestive thrust.

He kissed her deeply, tongue delving into her mouth as he fondled her breast and the skin of her bottom exposed by her thong. They rocked in mock lovemaking, their sighs too low to be heard over the noise of the crowd and music drifting in from the open doors of the balcony.

This was so not her. She liked sex, but she had never behaved like this. It had never felt like this. She might actually climax fooling around fully clothed, grinding herself against him if he kept up that perfectly delicious rhythm. The hard length of him was right where it needed to be, rubbing against her most sensitized flesh. She was so turned on and really tempted to let it happen. It was like they were dancing. The song’s beat was picking up, growing more intense. Tension was gathering in her abdomen and lower, in the flesh he was stimulating so erotically.