Never Gamble with a Caffarelli(46)
But it seemed she was the one who was the more desperate.
His mouth was hard against hers but she worked at softening it with little pull-backs and strokes of her tongue. Once he’d eased off a bit she nipped at his lower lip with her teeth, and then laved it with the glide of her tongue.
She felt him rummaging around for a condom, his hands leaving her in order to apply it, but his mouth didn’t budge from plundering hers.
He was at her entrance and nudging to possess her. She opened her legs and stood up on tiptoe to welcome him. He surged so thickly and so forcefully she felt her back bump the bench behind. He set a furious pace but her body was so wet, and aching so much, it was a blessed and welcome assault of her senses to feel him pumping so hard. She came almost immediately, not even needing the coaxing stroke of his fingers. All it took was a little roll and tilt of her pelvis and she was flying off into the stratosphere, screaming and sobbing all the way.
He didn’t waste time waiting for her to come back to earth. He rocketed after her with a deep, primal grunt as he unloaded. She felt the rise of goose bumps over his back as she held him against her, his hectic breathing a harsh sound in the silence.
Angelique wanted to hate him for turning the tables on her but somehow she couldn’t access that emotion right now. So instead she held him and stroked her hands over his back and shoulders, planting soft little teasing kisses to his neck and behind his earlobes.
He eased back from her but only so he could rest his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled intimately in the space between their mouths. ‘I wasn’t too rough, was I?’ His voice sounded gruff, almost apologetic.
Angelique trailed a fingertip over his bottom lip. ‘I wanted you any way I could have you.’
His dark gaze meshed with hers. ‘You really turn me on like no other woman I’ve ever been with, but I have a feeling but you already know that.’
She smiled a little smile and did another circuit with her finger, this time pushing it into his mouth so he could suck on it. It sent a shudder down her spine when he did. His mouth was hot and moist, and his tongue a sexy rasp against her soft skin. When she pulled it out she said in a voice that wasn’t quite even. ‘You do a pretty fine job of lighting my fire too.’
He held her gaze for an interminable moment. ‘We should do something about a meal. I don’t want you fading away on me. I have plans for you and, believe me, you’re going to need your stamina.’
She traced each of his eyebrows in turn, a playful smile pushing up the corners of her mouth. ‘When you look at me like that, I get a wobbly feeling in my girly bits.’
His eyes glinted dangerously as he tugged her back against him. ‘And so you damn well should,’ he said and brought his mouth down to hers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
REMY WATCHED AS Angelique slept in the tumble of sheets, pillows and bedcoverings that had become their love-making nest over the last three weeks. He had extended their stay because a sudden snowfall had made it impossible for Robert Mappleton to get to their meeting so Remy had to postpone it until the roads cleared.
And what a time it had been.
He and Angelique had made love not just in the bedroom but the bathroom and the sofa in the sitting room; the morning room; the linen room; the utilities room and the kitchen four or five times over. Angelique had delighted him, shocked him, teased and tantalised him until he only had to look at her and his body would swell with lust.
He had lit a fire in the master bedroom. The flickering flames were casting their usual golden glow over the room. There was another fluttering of snow outside; he could see it falling silently past the windows in ghostly handfuls. It had been snowing on and off for a couple of days now but the roads were open again. He felt a niggling sense of disappointment as he had secretly harboured a fantasy of being snowed in with her for weeks on end. Maybe right up to and including Christmas.
Every couple of days they had driven to the village to buy supplies at the local store. He liked the normality of it, the hunting and gathering that was an everyday occurrence for most people. Angelique knew a few of the locals and had stopped and chatted to them, introducing him as her husband with a naturalness that made him feel like a fraud. If she felt the same way, she showed no sign of it.
Robert Mappleton had left by helicopter that afternoon after an overnight stay. Angelique had shown the class and grace he had come to expect from her. It seemed she could be whatever he wanted or needed her to be: a playful, adventurous lover; an intrepid hiker across the moors or through the forest; a gourmet cook in the kitchen and an engaging, convivial hostess. She had made the old man feel at home, plying him with fabulous home-cooked food and old-fashioned highland hospitality. Mappleton had been charmed—besotted would have been closer to the mark. He had spent most of the time chatting to Angelique and had only given Remy his attention—and cursorily, at that—to sign the papers to hand over the Mappleton chain for a princely sum.