Socialite's Gamble(50)

Knowing she was probably going to get hurt, knowing that there was only one way this could end, Cara felt helpless in the face of his raw masculinity and her own deep yearning and backed into the shower stall.

Breathless, she watched Aidan shuck out of his shorts and pick up the soap. He rubbed it between his big hands until they were thick with bubbles.

‘Here.’ He offered it to her. ‘Hold this.’

She took it and he cupped soapy hands around her shoulders, slowly making small circles south. Her nipples stiffened and Cara squeezed the soap as he eventually reached them and tugged. She moaned and bit her lower lip as he continued soaping her torso and between her thighs.

Then he took down the nozzle from the shower and sprayed her aching body. Cara collapsed back against the wet tiles as he cupped her and rinsed the soap away. Then he fell to his knees and took her with his mouth and she nearly lost it, gripping his head with her hands to try and keep herself upright.

The sound of the soap hitting the tiles brought a husky laugh from him and she dragged him upwards and slid her soapy hand around his impressive erection.

Aidan growled and pressed the nozzle more firmly against her core. When Cara started undulating against it he let it swing against the wall and lifted her and thrust himself inside her with one smooth motion.

Cara felt her womb contract as she gripped him. This was pleasure at its most elemental and fulfilling and she arched her back and started to ride him.

‘Christ, Cara.’ Aidan released her breast and braced a hand behind her on the tiles as if he couldn’t hold them up. ‘You feel …’ He pulled back and surged forward. ‘Fantastic.’

Cara gasped, her body convulsing, her mind spinning into another vortex as Aidan joined her in the most exquisite release.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


CARA STARED AT her reflection in the bathroom mirror and wondered if she’d done the right thing in colouring her hair. Or having the five-star spa colour it for her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision after Aidan had booked her in for an afternoon of relaxation. ‘We’re going somewhere special tonight,’ he’d said. ‘Dress up.’

She’d been excited all day wondering how he was going to top the past three blissful days where daylight had slipped into night and then night had miraculously slipped back into day.

When the sun came up they ate a quick breakfast—usually in bed—and walked around the island, sometimes stopping to kayak in the bay or snorkel around the shallows. By afternoon they had usually collapsed into a hammock, or their king-size bed where Aidan had threatened more than once that he was going to tie her up the next time he wasn’t so exhausted from their lovemaking.

On this particular day Aidan had hired a yacht. They’d sailed it to a nearby island that was deserted and had a picnic on the beach. Made love. Then Aidan had produced scuba-diving gear and taken her down into the clear depths of the ocean where twelve feet looked like three.

It was another world. A secret world. At once quiet and enclosed and yet alive with activity. Brightly coloured fish ducked in and around coral that looked like it belonged in fairyland.

Aidan had picked up various animals from the seabed. A starfish that was stiff as rubber but somehow still malleable and an oblong brown shape—he’d later informed her was a sea cucumber—that looked like a brick and was as soft as a sponge to the touch. Then he’d put her hand out to a school of curious clownfish and she’d squealed and jerked back into his arms when they had come close enough to nip her.

She grinned at the memory.

She’d lost her mouthpiece that time and her mask had filled with water. She should have panicked but Aidan’s arms had come around her and he had showed her how to clear her mask underwater and then leaned in and kissed her, breathing oxygen into her mouth before refitting her mouthpiece.

Then he grabbed her hand and they’d swam lazily back to the boat where they’d stretched out on the sun-warmed deck and finished off the chocolate and champagne.

It had been straight out of a fantasy and only the looming sense that, actually, this wasn’t real life for either of them and that in two days’ time they would have to leave kept her grounded in reality.

Or so she tried to tell herself. It was hard not to get swept away by the romance of the island. And probably the only thing that had marred the day was when the conversation had drifted around to family.

She’d just finished telling him about the time her twin brothers had chased her and threatened to throw her in the lake—after she’d caught them drinking alcohol when they were thirteen—when she asked Aidan about his family life.