Muttering something in Russian, Vadim lifted her up and strode into her dressing room. His sole intention when he had taken her in his arms had been to offer support and encouragement, and hopefully alleviate her stage fright, but Ella was a fever in his blood, and the moment he’d touched her he’d been consumed with the savage need to possess her.
She got to him in a way no other woman ever had, he acknowledged grimly. It was a state of affairs he could not allow to continue, but at this moment he could think of nothing but assuaging the fire that raged in both of them. With shaking fingers he drew the zip of her dress down her spine and slid the narrow straps from her shoulders so that her small, firm breasts spilled into his hands. Her skin felt like satin beneath his lips as he trailed urgent kisses down her throat. He lifted her and sat her on the edge of the dressing table, arching her backwards so that he could close his lips around one dusky nipple and then its twin, sucking each crest until it swelled against his tongue.
Her sharp little breaths matched his own laboured breathing, and their mutual desire blazed out of control, so that he jerked the long skirt of her dress up to her waist and slipped his hand beneath the lacy panel of her knickers to find her slick, wet heat.
At the first stroke of his wickedly inventive fingers Ella sobbed his name, her fears about the concert swept away in the wild torrent of passion. The sexual hunger in Vadim’s eyes warned her that he was dangerously out of control, but she loved the fact that his usual formidable restraint had crumbled and his need was a great as hers. With trembling fingers she unfastened his bow tie and wrenched the buttons of his white silk shirt apart. Her nerve faltered momentarily when she fumbled with the zip of his trousers, but when he deftly stepped out of them she dragged his boxers over his hips, and caught her breath when the throbbing length of his erection filled her hands.
‘Hold on to me,’ he commanded roughly, and she immediately clung to his broad, bronzed shoulders as he slipped his hands beneath her bottom, lifted her, and sank his swollen shaft into her with a hard thrust that drove the breath from her body.
She was dimly aware of a crash as the various jars of toiletries on the dressing table fell to the floor. Thank heaven he’d locked the door, was her last coherent thought, before she caught and matched his pagan rhythm and tilted her hips to meet each devastating thrust. Harder, faster-this was sex at its most primitive, and she gloried in the power of it, her whole being focused on reaching that magical place that was uniquely special to them. It couldn’t last. She felt him tense and knew he was fighting for control, but as her body arched with the drenching pleasure of her orgasm she heard the ragged groan that was torn from his throat and felt the judders that ripped through him as he exploded in a violent climax and spilled into her.#p#分页标题#e#
Ella slowly came back to earth to face the realisation that they had just had wild sex on her dressing table, and that she was due to perform in front of two thousand people in ten minutes’ time. Usually she would be sick with nerves by now, she thought ruefully. But Vadim had commanded her mind as well as her body, and she was still too dazed with pleasure to worry about the concert.
‘You’ll have to make love to me before every performance,’ she quipped huskily, blushing when she saw the marks on his chest where she had raked him with her nails.
The flare of colour on her cheeks evoked a curious ache in Vadim’s chest. Beneath her shy exterior she was a tigress, but he was the only man to have discovered her sensual nature and he was startled by the possessive feeling that surged through him. ‘I missed you,’ he admitted roughly, noting how her eyes had darkened with an emotion he did not want to define.
The moment was broken by the sound of Marcus Benning’s voice from the other side of the door.
‘Ella-time to go. Are you ready?’
‘Almost.’ A bubble of laughter rose in her throat as Vadim swiftly donned his trousers while she refastened his shirt buttons. He slid the straps of her dress back into place, set her on her feet and grimaced as he smoothed the creases out of her skirt.
‘At least you’ve got more colour in your cheeks,’ he murmured, running his finger lightly down her flushed face. ‘How are the nerves?’
‘What nerves?’ Her smile stole his breath. She picked up her violin and headed for the door. ‘Wish me luck?’
‘You don’t need it, angel face. You’ll wow the audience.’ His eyes held hers. ‘Play for me,’ he said softly.
‘I will.’ She took a deep breath before she unlocked the door, and smiled serenely at Marcus as she swept past him and along the corridor towards the stage.