Reading Online Novel

The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(47)



‘Christo,’ he uttered, as he reached for them with his hands, ‘but you are beautiful.’ His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples before he leaned over and took one pink peak into his mouth.

Pleasure speared downwards, like arrows fired and finding their mark, to that place he’d already filled and which ached to be filled again. He worked magic on one breast, and then the other, before lifting his head and swallowing her into the perfect kiss.

She felt his hand low behind her, wondered at his expert discovery of her invisible zip, and felt the cool sweep of air as he tugged down her gown over her hips.

She made a move to remove one satin glove, and he stilled her hands, running his hand along one long satin-cased arm, running another down one silk-clad leg. ‘No,’ he said, ‘leave these. You feel and look exquisite exactly how you are.’

She wanted to believe him, even though her make-up must be smudged beyond repair, her lips pink and swollen, and she could feel her hair coming loose, heavy coiled tendrils even now tumbling around her shoulders. But who was she to argue, when his touch made her feel the seductress she had set out to be?

‘You’re not angry with me,’ she asked on a gasp as he pushed her back into the pillows, his tongue lapping its way first around and then into her belly button, an erotic prequel of what was to follow, ‘for coming tonight?’

He lifted his head the merest fraction. ‘If I had my way, you would come every night.’

She laughed a husky laugh and shuddered against the bedclothes, her back arching as his tongue renewed its exploratory journey. ‘I meant about coming to the casino. You’re not angry?’

His fingers dug into her thighs; his face lay buried in her belly as he grazed her skin with his teeth. ‘You have a strange concept of foreplay. What does it take, I wonder, to shut you up.’ His teeth nipped at her skin, and she laughed and squirmed again, and he pushed himself higher so his mouth was once again within reach of her nipples. ‘But no. Do I look angry?’ He paused on the way up, laving at her skin. And he drew one perfect breast deep into his mouth, his tongue circling an even more perfect peak.

She arched into his mouth, her breath quickening. ‘It’s such a beautiful place.’

‘Still won’t shut up?’ He found her other breast, lavishing the same attention for detail on that one, his hot mouth, his lips and tongue working together like an orchestra.

Teeth grazed her nipple, and she flinched, a deliciously compelling combination of pleasure and pain, a symphony of sensation. ‘Sebastiano described it as the jewel in Montvelatte’s crown.’

He lifted himself higher, hovering over her as he kissed her eyes, her chin and nose. His lips found hers, teased them open with his tongue and pulled her into a kiss so deep she was lost in it. Then he drew back and she opened her eyes, waiting. Perplexed.

‘Sebastiano was wrong,’he said tightly, every angle and plane in his face suddenly accentuated, an exercise in barely restrained control. ‘Because you are the jewel in Montvelatte’s crown.’

And then he plunged into her in one fluid stroke that vanquished the air from her lungs and the conversation from her lips. In that hitched moment, they breathed the same air, shared the same oxygen and, as he filled her completely, shared the exact same space.

Satin-clad hands tangled in his hair, swept the powerful skinscape of his back, and held him to her. Silken-clad legs slid along his, tightening around him and urging him still deeper. And all the while his silken words tangled in her mind, part of the magic, no small part of the sensation.

It might have been a slower build up this time, less frenetic, and with more time to discover and rediscover each other’s bodies, but when she came apart, it was a different kind of power that took her shuddering to completion, a different kind of wholeness that brought her back, holding him close, her limbs entwined with his.

A different feeling that left her more confused than ever.

‘So that’s what it takes to make you shut up.’

Minutes had passed, minutes in which the gradual calming of her breathing belied the growing turmoil of her mind.

Getting him to care for her wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

She unburied her face from his shoulder, breathing in his warm male scent, relishing it, even though at the same time the amount she enjoyed it bothered her on another level. ‘Apparently.’

Rafe sat up, poured a glass of water from a covered decanter on the bedside table and turned, his eyes brushing along her body as she lay, eyes that took everything in. It was ridiculous to feel shy after what they’d done and what they’d shared, but she still did, still felt exposed. And a trifle ridiculous still wearing stockings and her satin gloves. Then he handed her the glass and she scooted up in the bed, accepting it gratefully, suddenly realising her thirst exceeded her embarrassment.