New Year at the Boss's Bidding(19)

She bit down on her bottom lip, totally out of her depth. He was so  passionately in control and she was a virgin. Would he know? Her hungry  gaze roved all over his body, pushing away her doubts as her fingers  ached to touch him. She noticed the livid scarring that started at his  side and went down, hidden by the denim of his jeans.                       
       
           



       

Aware of him watching her, she looked back into his face. He looked at  her suspiciously, his jaw clenched hard, and she struggled to find  something to say to defuse the tension.

'I hope we'll be here all night like this,' she finally said softly,  picking up the conversation where it had stopped before he'd stripped  off to the waist.

He turned back to the fireplace and blew out the candles, leaving only  the fire to light the room. A prickle of fear chased over her as his  action unintentionally pushed her further out of her comfort zone.

'It's a bit dark.' Her heart was thudding in her chest and she couldn't  decide if it was because of seeing Xavier semi-naked or the darkness  he'd plunged them into.

'I only need firelight to see your beautiful body and it is so much  more...' he pondered for a moment and she waited, not daring to move  '...romantic?'

Did a man like Xavier do romantic? If her pulse wasn't racing so wildly  and he wasn't moving towards her, passionate intent sparking in his  eyes, she'd have said no. But right now nothing else mattered. She  didn't care about the past, which lurked in every shadowed corner of the  room, or the future, which she'd yet to discover. This was the romantic  fling she needed to move on in life.





CHAPTER SEVEN

THE SMELL OF freshly extinguished candles filled the room but all  Xavier could think of was taking Tilly in his arms, kissing her all  over, exploring every bit of her delicious body. He wanted her naked  beneath him as he made her his.

She seemed nervous and he resolved to be gentle, to coax out the desire  he knew burned within her and show her she was a beautiful and  passionate woman, sure that Jason's rejection would have filled her with  self-doubt, an emotion he knew well.

He knelt down next to her, a twinge of pain in his leg reminding him,  if he needed it, why he preferred she didn't see him undressed under  bright lights. He had no wish to frighten her further. He didn't want  her running from him, not tonight, not when he intended to take what  they'd started last night to its conclusion. 'What is wrong, mia cara?'

'Nothing,' she whispered huskily, as she knelt up and moved towards him. 'Not now.'

He took her in his arms, bringing her closer to him and in one swift  movement pulled her to sit astride his legs, her arms around his neck,  her breasts level with his face. He watched the soft swell of them  moving up and down with each breath, resisting the urge to discard her  bra and taste first one nipple then the other.

'There is no need to be afraid of anything, cara...' Instantly she  tensed in his arms, her legs no longer relaxed and heavy against him.  She was still resisting him, still reasoning over her actions when she  should just give in to him and enjoy the night for what it was.

'Being here like this, with just the fire, it's not something I've done  before.' She lowered her lashes, their long length sweeping down to  spread over her cheeks. She was still hiding from him.

Gently he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. 'Would you like  me to light the candles again?' He didn't want to do that. It would  expose his scars, his hang-ups and fears. He was damn sure she wouldn't  stay around once she saw the full horror of how badly scarred his legs  were. She would be gone. For the first time in three years he was  prepared to take the risk and make love to a woman, but that didn't mean  he wanted her to see his scars.

'No. There's no need.' She shook her head slowly and began to relax. He  felt her limbs soften and a burst of hot lust shot through him as she  leant towards him. His fingers still held her chin and he guided her  closer until their lips were almost touching-almost kissing.

'You look like a goddess in this light.' His husky whisper shuddered  from him as he fought to hold his control, wanting to savour this  moment. She was so different from all the women who virtually threw  themselves at his feet with alarming regularity.

Tilly needed to be handled with care. She needed him to be gentle and  considerate and the idea sent desire hurtling through him. She deserved  more than a frantic tumble to satisfy a lust-filled moment but he was  past rational thought now.

He felt her breath on his face, her body against his, and knew she  wanted to be loved. She deserved to be, but he couldn't love her, not in  that way. He shouldn't even be kissing her. But he wanted her, needed  her, as if only she could breathe life back into his battered body and  tortured soul.

'Right now, I feel like a goddess.' The gentle purr of her voice pushed  his control to the breaking point and he claimed her lips in a hard and  demanding kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it as he  focused on keeping her where he wanted her, allowing him to deepen the  kiss.                       
       
           



       

She lifted her head, a ragged gasp rushing from her, and he moved his  attentions to the hardened peaks of her nipples, clearly visible through  her bra.

'Dio mio, you are beautiful.' The throaty rasp of his voice almost  broke as she took a deep breath in, her breasts moving closer to him,  teasing him so much he began to question just who was in control. Her or  him?

Heady lust hurtled through him as he pressed his lips against the  creamy swell of one breast, feeling each deep breath she took and the  thumping of her heart. His hand cupped the other, his thumb rubbing over  her nipple as it strained against the lacy fabric covering it.

'Xavier.' The husky whisper of his name snapped that last thread of  control and he let go of her hair, reached to the fastening of her bra  and snapped it open, freeing each delectable breast for his attention.

Her fingers clutched at his hair as he kissed one nipple, teasing it  until she was shuddering with desire, each breath she took as deep and  ragged as his. His tongue swirled around it, tasting her.

'Too much,' she gasped between increasingly shallow breaths.

'Too much?' He pulled back from her and looked up at her flushed face. 'Should I stop, cara?'

'Yes. No. I don't know.' She sighed and looked down at him and he  realised he'd nearly pushed her over the edge. It was as if she was  discovering the joy of such pleasures for the first time, and had never  sampled the delights of passion. 'No, don't. This is on my list.'

He puzzled over the words whispered in a throaty way that left him in  no doubt she was losing the battle of resistance. 'This in on your  list?'

'Yes, but don't stop.'

Her fingers curled tighter in his hair, pushing him to a new limit, and  with gentleness he moved her from him, trying not to acknowledge the  pain of having knelt on the floor, and pushed her down against the throw  that was spread out over the rug.

She lay back, her gaze holding his all the time, a hint of a question lingering beneath the sparks of passion.

'We will take it slowly,' he said as he lowered his head and kissed the  flatness of her stomach, his hands holding her waist. He straddled her  as he moved upwards, tasting her with each kiss.

She clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh.  He moved higher still and once more kissed her breasts, nipping at the  hardened peaks, relishing the gasps of pleasure that escaped those full  lips.

He kissed a trail up her throat until he could once more claim her lips  in a hard and demanding kiss. She pulled him down on top of her and  wrapped her jeans-clad legs around his. The hardness of his erection  strained against the confines of his jeans but he enjoyed the wild and  erotic sensation of being partially clothed, of being able to feel her  beneath him.

It was explosive. New and exciting.

Her hands slid down his back, her fingertips finding the beginnings of  the scarring on his right side. He tensed as she paused briefly in her  trail of exploration across his back. She hadn't uttered a word, hadn't  asked the dreaded question. How did this happen? He pressed kisses over  her face, the side of her neck and against her ears, thankful she hadn't  broken the spell or killed the passion between them.

He wanted her naked, completely naked. He pushed back from her,  kneeling up to unfasten her jeans. Her hair splayed out around her as  she watched him, tempting and seducing him with her innocent eyes while  lifting her hips to help. He moved back on his knees, pulling the denim  and her slipper-like shoes away until she wore only a skimpy pair of  black panties.

He groaned at the need to set himself free of his ever-tightening  jeans. Her eyes, darker with each passing second, watched him intently,  as if aware of his torture. They goaded him, urged him to remove every  last barrier between them. But he couldn't. Not yet. He didn't want the  battered part of his body to ruin the moment.