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‘Hands on is good.’ She tilted her head back to look right into his face—to invite, to dare. ‘But I don’t believe you’ll be in control.’
‘Who’ll be in control, then?’ His head lowered, his gleaming eyes mesmerising her as he whispered the question.
‘Neither of us,’ she whispered back.
Amusement. Appreciation. Anticipation.
From his expression, he felt it too.
‘I guess that way we’ll be even.’ His fingers traced over her collarbones. ‘There’s still one outstanding problem, though.’
‘What’s that?’ She didn’t want any more delays. She didn’t want any more discussion.
Action was all she wanted now.
His smile widened and was as wicked as it could get. ‘We still haven’t worked out who’s going to be on top.’
Her smile matched his in both intensity and naughtiness. ‘The princess is always on top.’
‘That right?’ He was so close she could see the myriad golden brown flecks in his eyes and the way his pupils were swelling. ‘We can start that way if you like, then see what happens.’
In the second she saw herself straddling his naked body, sanity stared her in the face. Sleeping with James would probably end in disaster. But her job was pretty much a disaster anyway. She might as well have the one experience she’d been wanting more than anything for the last three weeks. It would probably only be a one-off. She was, after all, just a party plaything. She already knew he didn’t want anything more.
So why not be selfish, as everyone expected her to be, and do what she wanted? And she wanted him. Really badly, right now.
He knew. The confident strokes across her skin reflected his understanding. He wasn’t asking. He didn’t need to. He’d already started. His lips brushed her cheekbone and he muttered, ‘It’s time we dealt with it.’
Her eyelids fluttered at his caress. He kissed down her cheekbone and her eyes closed completely. She swayed forward, held her head up to his and parted her lips.
He kissed her then. And how he could kiss. Her glass slipped from her fingers and she collapsed into him, his arms tightened and she kissed him back, wanting to inflame him further. Wanting him to want her the way she did him—out of control, out of this world.
She thought of nothing, only let herself feel the sensations of his mouth on hers, his tongue searching, seeking the response she was only too happy to give.
His hands were blessedly firm on her body and she reached up, to run her hands down his back, measure his breadth and strength with the tips of her fingers, with the heel of her palm as she pressed him closer, circling her hips to press against his in the rhythm that came so naturally and that she knew would stir him into action.
He thrust one hand into her hair, holding the back of her head to his; the other hand pushed the small of her back, driving her belly into his hips, stopping her wriggles but making her more than aware of his hard erection. Without lifting his head he walked her backwards. She kept her eyes closed and let him, knowing he was getting them to his bedroom—to comfort and space. She was so hot she’d have taken him then and there—on the floor, the chair—she didn’t care, she just wanted…
His hand lifted from her waist and she heard a click. Opening her eyes at last, she saw they’d made it to his room and he’d flicked on one of the bedside lights, giving a soft glow to the room. The thick curtains were drawn and the bed was big and some kind soul had already turned back the covering. The sheets were pale in the dim light and she looked forward to feeling their cool comfort on her burning skin…
She lifted her face for another kiss but he dropped to his knees, sliding his hands from her thighs to her feet.
She looked down as he circled his fingers and thumb around the bottom of each leg, amazed and enthralled at the sight of him, in a tux, on his knees at her feet. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Worshipping your ankles. You have the most shapely ankles and calves I’ve ever seen.’
‘It’s the high heels,’ she explained, but feeling stupidly pleased by the compliment all the same.
‘No. I’ve seen you walking barefoot in my office. Your legs are incredible.’
Sitting back on his heels, he toyed with her skirt, flaring out the material and creating a cool breeze on her thighs. She felt the need to rock against him again. Felt the need to make him move faster.
‘Are you going to have a look under my dress?’
‘I’m going to have more than a look.’ His mouth was hot and open and wet as he began to press it on the start of her thigh, slowly moving across skin, and up. She stretched a hand down, reaching his hair, twisting her fingers through it, restlessly beginning to move against him. His jaw was warm and slightly rough and she wanted him to go even higher.
Suddenly he stood, with pleasure she saw the hint of breathlessness, the heightened colour in both his cheeks and eyes. Her hands lifted and she took the advantage, pressing her lower body to his and quickly unfastening the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to touch him, to taste him, to make him take her fast and furious. She kissed the expanse of golden skin, quick and hot kisses with her tongue flickering and her teeth nipping; she rocked faster against him, wanting to make him explode.
For moments he let her do it and she felt his tension building as he stood still under her ministrations. Then with a growl his hands came back to her hips, holding them while thrusting his forward to dig into her and she lifted her face to let his mouth plunder hers. She wanted to shriek yes as his kiss deepened, feeding and fuelling the hunger that had her so desperate.
He lifted his head away with a jerk, his breathing ragged, and he inhaled deeply through his nose. Damn. She knew he was going to make her slow down.
Grinning at her, he loosened his hard grip on her hips and slid fingers around her back, finding the zip secreted to the side. He tugged it down; she lowered her arms to let the straps fall.
Quickly, with a soft slither, the fabric slipped to the floor. His gaze followed the dress down. He was silent for a moment, his grin deepening. Then he stretched out a long, lone finger and ran it along the fine band of her black panties.
‘Underwear.’
‘Very thin, very sheer.’ She held her tummy firm, trying to stop the shiver as his finger slid slowly from one side to the other.
‘But still there.’
She nodded. ‘Always.’
His grunt of laughter held a touch of mockery. ‘Not so wild, princess?’
How little he knew. ‘Too wild for you.’ She pushed, taking him by surprise, and he stepped back, the bed butting behind his knees. She pushed again. He was ready that time but let her get away with it anyway, falling backwards and, with a bounce and a laugh, landed on his back.
‘Well, then, climb on top, beautiful.’
Liss was used to being told she was beautiful, but he did more than just tell her. He made her believe it, simply by the look in his eyes—the almost painful passion in them.
She slipped her fingers beneath the thin panties and pulled them down with a shimmy and a wiggle. Stepping out of them, she twirled them on her finger before flinging them away. Propped up on his elbows, he watched her little stripper moment with humour that was underpinned by tense hunger.
She intended for him to become even more tense.
She got onto the bed on her knees and crawled her way up his body, keeping her torso lifted away from his. He could look but they weren’t touching—not yet, not until she was positioned above the prize. Halfway up his body she settled on it. That magnificent, straining, hard ridge of him felt incredibly good through the slightly rough fabric of his trousers. When he was naked, it would feel even better, but right now it was fun just playing. Rubbing her hands over his golden, hair-sprinkled chest, she watched his want grow. This was what she wanted, to be straddling him, ready to take him. Her fingers worked the button on his trousers, wanting to feel him bare.
Instead of thrusting up to meet her as she expected, he suddenly scooted down the bed so it wasn’t his pelvis beneath her but his chest. Their eyes met and his were dancing with desire and delight. She figured hers reflected a little shock.
He wriggled, sliding an arm under her leg, and with a twist got a shoulder under too and then he slid further beneath her. So it wasn’t his chest she was astride, but his face.
Oh. My.
She froze, unable to decide what to do—move, not move.
His hands held her waist in place, taking the dilemma from her.
‘James!’ Heat scalded her as he turned his head and kissed the uppermost skin on her inner thigh, kissed again… and then…
She hadn’t expected anything quite so intimate, quite so soon. Stupid perhaps, considering what they were doing, but this was… this was…
‘What?’ he asked lazily, fingers taking up where his tongue had left off. ‘I thought you said you wanted to be on top.’ His words were muffled and as he spoke the warm air against her sensitive skin sent delicious chills everywhere.
‘I do, but this is…’ She paused for breath as his tongue started another exploration. ‘This is…’ Her eyes closed as his mouth closed over her most sensitive point and he sucked. ‘This is… just… really good.’
Incredibly intimate. Incredibly erotic.
Once more she twisted her fingers into his hair, literally hanging on to reality as he twisted fingers and tongue and lips into and around her.
Her whole body was hot and damp and breathing was difficult because even the air seemed fiery and it burnt her lungs. She screwed her eyes shut tighter as intense sensations closed in on her.
‘James,’ she muttered. Wanting the magic of release now, but wanting the moment to last for ever. Too good to last, too good to finish.
In answer he slid a hand up her stomach and beyond to find her breast, gently rubbing her nipple between forefinger and thumb. The burning breath shuddered out of her.
She stretched her arms forward, found the bed rails and clung on with bone-crushing strength. She wanted to scream. She was going to scream. But she couldn’t get it out for the difficult breaths and the half-sobs that she couldn’t stop as he teased in a tormenting rhythm.
He slid both hands over her now, with firm strokes and then fluttering ones while he feasted on her. Tremors convulsed through her body and she repeated his name, almost broken.
‘You still sure about being on top?’ His sexy humour only served to heighten her almost painful pleasure.
She couldn’t support herself any longer. The excitement was too intense and frankly all she wanted to do was lie back and enjoy it.
Toppling over to the side, she apologised. ‘I’m sorry, James. When you do that I can’t…’
‘What, move?’ He rolled, moving up the bed on all fours like a lion. She stretched out, happy to be his prey.
‘Or think…’ she murmured heavy-lidded as he paused at her breasts. ‘Or speak…’
Indeed she could only moan then as he took her hardened nipple into his mouth and his fingers resumed their rhythmic rubbing.
He moved slowly over her—all the way down, then over again until every inch of her skin had been both burned and dampened with kisses and caresses. Until she lay without control over her own body, arching up in invitation, pleading with him—to have him inside and for the unbearable tension to be snapped by the ultimate sensation.
‘James.’ She shook her head wildly as he kissed the hollow at the base of her neck. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. She had to have it all, now.
He left her body, left the bed, kicked off shoes, yanked down trousers and grabbed a condom from the complimentary pack in the drawer of the bedside table. All the while she lay supine, still arching her hips to his in time to that ancient rhythm, still whispering his name, because each time she did his eyes glowed and his hands shook.
His body was burnished with sweat. But still he could smile that slightly sarcastic smile and prove his point. ‘If it’s all right with you, princess, this time I’m on top.’
He was already back and settling his glorious weight on her when she abandoned all pretence and answered with ecstatic softness, ‘Oh, yes.’
With a satisfied grin and a long, deliberate stroke he pushed hard inside. Her breath hissed out and she started shaking—the delight too pleasurable to bear.
He paused, the ‘princess’ he muttered half strangled. Then he moved.
She clung to his slick, broad shoulders, crying out as his body buffeted against hers again and again. He totally filled her—thrusting, making her take everything he had. And she fought to match him, curling her legs around his, pushing up to meet him, to drive him as much as he was driving her. Her gaze met and held by his. And the exquisite torture continued and sharpened, heightened and strengthened until she could no longer cope, could no longer control her ferocious response.
She arched high one final time and locked into a moment where she had never, ever felt so good. Her body clamped onto it—onto him, gripping him tight and hard until finally she convulsed, lost under waves of intense pleasure, hardly aware of her own scream.
CHAPTER TEN (#ulink_73d8bc07-3172-5864-829e-503f175f8d8f)
SHE was awake but kept her eyes closed. Her highly accurate body clock told her it was still early. Very early. But she couldn’t sleep a moment more. There was too much to stew over. Cataclysmic sex for one thing—she would never be the same.
So that was ‘dealing with it’, huh? She flexed her thigh muscles experimentally—just a touch. Yep, she definitely felt dealt with. James was incredible—as intense and in charge in the bedroom as he was in the boardroom. And already the runny-honey feeling inside was spreading, together with the lick of desire. She wanted to deal with him some too. So much for ensuring he was as much a slave to it as she was—she hadn’t really got the chance last night.
She closed her eyes tighter. Last night. The party. Her screw-up. His challenge for another party.
Ugh.
When she finally opened her eyes she saw he was propped up on his elbow, studying her—alert, despite the unshaven look, the rumpled hair.
‘Regrets?’ he asked straight out.
‘No.’ Not sleeping with him. She could never regret that. Other elements? Maybe.
His mouth twisted into that cynical smile she didn’t like so much. ‘Of course. You’re not the kind of person to have regrets.’
Did he still think she didn’t feel things deeply? That she was completely shallow—just the party princess? She burrowed further under the sheet. Well, she wasn’t going to admit to how deeply she’d felt a connection with him last night. How wonderful he’d made her feel.
‘You think?’ She tightened up. It wasn’t from anticipation. ‘Why, do you?’
‘No. Not about that.’
OK. What, then? Something was clearly on his mind. But he wasn’t about to share either. Not thoughts, not emotion. But maybe his body. The gold flecks had lit in his eyes.
‘You know it was too good an experience not to be repeated,’ he said softly.
Oh, she knew. She also knew he was ready for a repeat right now. And despite his blinkered vision of her, she couldn’t refuse. Her body softened, her muscles ached to move. She quelled the delicious urge to stretch out every limb and curl her toes, savouring the tension as it knotted inside. And frankly she’d be more than happy to forget the party mess for a few more moments.
His fingers traced over her shoulders. ‘You don’t do serious.’
He wasn’t asking. Apparently it was a given. Who said she didn’t do serious? Admittedly up till now she hadn’t. But things could change. Someone could make her feel differently about that. Lots of things felt unstable right now.
His gaze lifted from where he’d been watching his hand slide beneath the sheet along her breastbone, and he seemed to ensure he had her attention. ‘I don’t do serious either.’
‘No.’ But she didn’t quite believe him. While he could flirt and be fun James was intense and focused and diligent and he’d do serious—with the right woman. It was just that she wasn’t the right woman and he was making sure she knew that.
Fine. She wouldn’t want serious with him anyway. He was too much the boss, too much in charge—mostly of himself. She itched to address that one.
‘So, later today we work.’ Both his gaze and hand dipped again. ‘Right now, we play.’
What else was there to say? ‘OK.’
He rolled onto her, claiming the dominant position, and she lay back and let him—for now, she reckoned. Just once more.
She’d always known James worked hard. Now she knew he played hard too. After another hour in bed—not sleeping—and half an hour in the shower—with barely time to soap—she was ready for a nap, but he was at the desk, hard at work.
Given what he’d asked her to do, she knew she had to knuckle under too. But she wondered if she was ever going to be able to keep up with him—in any arena. She wandered out of the bedroom to get set and discovered James had had her bags moved up from her room downstairs.
