Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon(11)

He shuddered inwardly as he imagined burying himself between her golden thighs. He desired her intensely, and he could tell already that he would enjoy himself. She would too. He’d make sure of that.

When was the last time he’d bedded a woman? Andros searched his memory, frowning slightly as he did so. It had been a while, mainly because of how busy he had been. Then too was the fact that so few women let him chase. They offered, he took, before long he was bored.

Lyra was not going to be that way. He knew that already. She was going to make him work, and with that thought, he felt excitement tingle all over his body, coupled with anticipation deep in his gut.

“I come here quite often,” he said, decision made.

“Because it is in central London?”

“Because the food is amazing.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Then we shall eat.”

The service at Junction Twenty was exceptional and it did not take long before the waiter brought their starters. Andros barely noticed what he was eating. He couldn’t take his eyes off Lyra. She ate with gusto, using her fingers often, something that many of the other diners would frown upon, he suspected, and yet Andros did not. Her actions reminded him—oddly—of family dinners from when he was very little.

He watched her lips working, her fingers tracing over those lips, into her mouth, and worried that his erection was going to become a permanent painful state.

When they paused between their starters and main, she looked over at one of the other tables, and nodded. “I was reading about his exploits last week.”

Andros followed her gaze to a well-known Member of Parliament. “You and the rest of the world.”

“His poor wife,” Lyra said, but she was grinning.

“Her situation amuses you?”

Her grin widened. “I don’t know what she’d expect being married to him. Just take a close look and it would have been so obvious exactly what sort of things he likes to get up to.”

Despite himself, Andros was intrigued. “You can tell just by looking at a man that he likes to be spanked by a woman dressed as his mother?”

She laughed. It was a delightful sound. Andros found himself smiling right along with her. “I can tell that he likes it kinky. He’s too uptight, and he’s blue blood, right?”

“And?”

“They’re all weird. I mean they can’t help it. I think it might be due to the boarding schools. Just weird situations all round.”

“Indeed.”

A few moments later and Andros was not surprised when Lyra dug into the course placed in front of her. He watched her some more, intrigued and aroused, and just all round perplexed by the situation. Every so often, she paused and looked up at him, her very long lashes fanning her face, her eyes twinkling. He itched to run his fingers along her skin, to watch those eyes flutter closed as she sighed her pleasure…

Dinner was followed quickly by dessert. Lyra pointed out a few other patrons, giving him the rundown on exactly what she suspected they did in their private lives. He had to agree with more than a few of her assessments.

It was, Andros thought as he poured them another glass of wine, one of the strangest seductions he’d ever undertaken, and yet already it felt like it had to be, that nothing else but this would work between them.

“Would you like coffee?” he asked as the last of their meal was taken away.

Lyra took a sip of her wine, then shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“You’re done?”

She nodded. “That was lovely but coffee would tip me over the edge and…” She paused and shot him a look over the top of her glass, “…we don’t want that, do we?”

The atmosphere between them shifted in an instant. From strained and perplexing to thick and pulsing. It was like being back at the bar, the moment he’d grabbed her wrists and felt the heat shoot between them. It had simmered whilst they ate, whilst she talked and laughed, but now it was back, and Andros almost groaned.

“Then let’s get down to the reason we’re here,” he said, unable to wait any longer.

“Okay.”

“We’ve eaten, we’ve drunk and we’ve talked. We’ve…how shall we say? We’ve danced around all the little rituals.”

“Rituals?”

He nodded. “Yes, the things women and men do before they do what they want to do.”

“And what is it you want to do, Andros?”

Bend you over and fuck you senseless, he thought, but didn’t say. It would be far more satisfying to just do it. “You know the answer to that. You knew it in Club Belmont.”