The Wrong Sister(56)

His hips brushed against hers. The plush texture of the towel whispered over her skin. Then he leaned into her harder, and the long ridge of his sex pressed against her, laid claim to her, promised untold pleasure.

“Take him until Tuesday,” a little devil suggested.

Fiona tried to banish that from her super-heated brain, but it was a battle she was never going to win.

“Turn around.”

Christian pulled her to face him. Even in the darkness she could see his eyes were huge, his generous mouth unsmiling. He looked like a man at the very edge of his restraint. Did she look this desperate in return?

He tugged the T-shirt over her head and tossed it onto one of the outdoor chairs, then with fierce deliberation pulled her naked body against him and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss started softly, seductively...and grew in depth and savagery until they were glued together, breathless, panting, clawing at each other’s skin. Fiona had never felt so possessed—or so mad to possess in return.

She protested her loss as Christian ripped her hands away from him and forced them backwards to grip the railing.

“Stay like that—just like that.” His chest rose and fell with every deep straining breath. He reached out to cradle her breasts in his hands.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, bending to kiss and suckle until she whimpered with pleasure.

“No more waiting.” He dropped to his knees and brushed his mouth down her belly. “Open for me,” he murmured against her. His hands settled on her thighs and nudged them apart until she gave in with a moan of submission.

His soft laugh of triumph whispered over her skin as he claimed her in an outrageously greedy juicy kiss, and his tongue started to probe and slide and circle and flick.

She clung as though the railing was the last support on earth. And slowly the ecstasy gathered and built, rolling like thunder, stabbing dark and intense, until the exquisite contractions of her shattering climax sent her arching backwards, gasping his name over and over. One hand left the railing and fisted in his hair to pull him up into her arms.

She knew, even in her barely conscious state, there was no way to pretend this was casual.

This was deep.

She drowned in him, yearned to be inside his skin, inside his life.

Christian followed her impatient hand up and made to wrap his arms around her.

“No. Please.” She pulled his towel undone and held it wide. The light of the full moon light washed down into the small space between them, glistening on the moist tip of his long up-rearing cock.

Slowly, dragging in a deep breath of anticipation, she rose on tiptoe and drew him into position by tugging the ends of the towel. He nudged against her, teasing, sliding inside just a fraction, retreating again.

Fiona growled as he drew back.

Then Christian pushed his hard silky length all the way home with one long, slow, deep, potent thrust—murmuring her name, wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling blindly for her mouth again. Fiona felt the peace wash over her as they stood locked together, blissful. She was still gently pulsing deep inside.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





“Need a condom,” he groaned moments later, not daring to move. Her heat and wetness had him close to meltdown. “I’ve got some upstairs. From the machine in the Gents’ washroom at the Lodge.”

“I’ve got some downstairs. There’s a machine in the Ladies’ as well.”

He let out a sharp puff of laughter.

“And a bed would be nice,” she added, nipping his neck, sniffing at his skin as though he was edible.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Blondie?”

“I just thought...if I couldn’t resist you any longer...” She licked his shoulder between every few words “...that I should be prepared...in case. Downstairs is closer,” she encouraged. “Come to bed, Christian.”

Slowly, all of her fantasies were made real. Christian gave and took in equal measure, expecting her to do the same. He was gentle and demanding by turns, playful and generous, sensual to a degree she’d never imagined possible.

After a night of knife-edged passion, and sensations that made her thrash and moan and stifle her screams again and again, she found him resting on one elbow, looking down at her as she drowsed and finally slid awake to a golden morning.

He kissed the scar near her hairline, and drew back far enough to focus on her face. His long forefinger stroked tenderly over her eyebrow.

“Whatever the future throws at us, Blondie, any of it will be worth last night.”

Fiona nodded, drowning in the intensity of his gaze.

“But we’re in another world here,” she eventually protested. “This is not the real world, where people live by strict conventions and society’s rules. It won’t be so nice out there.” She bit her lip. “No-one will think this is okay. You know that—you and me together, and Jan so recently dead. No-one at all, Christian.”