From New York With Love

‘Please, Lucien!’ Her fingers tightened in his hair and she pulled his head up, forced him to look at her with eyes that glittered pure silver. His lips were swollen and moist. ‘Please...!’ she groaned beseechingly. ‘Lucien...’

He moved so swiftly, so urgently, that Thia barely had time to realise he now lay between her parted thighs.

‘You are so beautiful here, Cyn,’ he murmured. His breath was a warm caress as the soft pads of his thumbs slicked her juices over those plump folds and the sensitive knot of flesh above. ‘Look at us, Cyn,’ he encouraged gruffly. ‘Move up onto your elbows and show me those pretty breasts.’

Thia would have done anything Lucien asked of her at that moment. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes fever-bright, as she looked down at him, at his hair midnight-black against the paleness of her skin, bronzed back long and muscled, buttocks taut.

His gaze held hers as he cupped his hands beneath her bottom and held her up and open to him. ‘I’m going to eat you up, Cyn,’ he promised, and his head lowered and his tongue swept, rasped against her slick folds.

Over and over again he lapped her gently, and then harder, until Thia was no longer able to hold herself up on her elbows as the pleasure grew and grew inside her. Lucien’s fingers were digging almost painfully into the globes of her bottom as he thrust a tongue deep inside her slick channel, sending her over that volcanic edge as the pleasure surged and swelled, surged and swelled again and again, taking Thia into the magic of her first ever climax.

It was the first of many. Lucien continued to pleasure her, taking her up to that plateau again and again, each time ensuring that he took her over the edge and into the maelstrom of pleasure on the other side, until Thia’s throat felt ragged and sore from the sobbing cries of each climax. Her body was becoming completely boneless as those releases came swifter and fiercer each time, and Lucien’s arms were looped beneath her thighs now, holding her wider to allow for the ministrations of his lips and tongue, increasing her pleasure each and every time she came.

‘No more, Lucien!’ Thia finally gasped, her fingers digging into his muscled shoulders. Blackness had begun to creep into the edges of her vision and she knew she couldn’t take any more. There was foreplay and then there was hurtling over the edge into unconsciousness. Which was exactly what was going to happen if her body was racked by one more incredible climax! ‘Please, Lucien. I just can’t...’ She looked at him pleadingly as he raised his head to look at her, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and moist.

‘I’m sorry—I got carried away. Are you okay?’ He gave a shake of his head.

‘Yes...’

‘You just taste so delicious...’ He groaned achingly as he moved up beside her, his hands shaking slightly as he cupped the heat of her cheek. ‘Like the finest, rarest brandy. I just couldn’t stop drinking your sweet essence. Taste yourself, Cyn,’ he encouraged huskily, and brushed his lips lightly against hers.

The taste was sweet and slightly salty, with an underlying musk. Thia’s cheeks blazed with colour at the knowledge that Lucien now knew her body inside and out, more intimately than she did. That he—

She tensed to stillness as the telephone began to ring on the bedside table. Lucien scowled his displeasure and didn’t even glance at the telephone. ‘Ignore it,’ he rasped.

‘But—’

‘Nothing and no one is going to intrude on the two of us being together tonight. I won’t allow it,’ he stated determinedly.

‘But it could be important—’

‘Obviously not,’ he murmured in satisfaction as the telephone fell quiet after the sixth ring, allowing him to reach out and remove the receiver to prevent it from ringing and disturbing them again.

He rolled onto his back, hands firm on Cyn’s hips, and lifted her up and over him. Her thighs now straddled his, and the dampness of her folds pressed against the hardness of his shaft as she sat upright, the swell of her breasts, tipped by strawberry-ripe nipples, peeping through the dark swathe of her hair.

‘Do you have birth control, Cyn?’

‘I didn’t think...’ she groaned. ‘I—no, I don’t.’ Her cheeks were fiery red. ‘Do you?’

Lucien would have preferred there to be nothing between him and Cyn the first time he entered her, but at the same time he liked that her lack of protection indicated she wasn’t involved sexually with any other man right now.

He reached out and opened a drawer on the side table before taking out a silver foil packet and opening it. ‘Would you...?’ he invited huskily.

‘Me?’ Her eyes were wide.

‘Perhaps not.’ Lucien chuckled softly before quickly dealing with it himself. ‘I want to be inside you now, Cyn...’ he said huskily. ‘In fact if I don’t get inside you soon I think I’m going to spontaneously combust.’ He settled her above him. ‘I promise I’ll go slower next time, but for the moment I just need—’

‘Next time...?’ Cyn squeaked.

‘You said earlier that you would stay with me until I had made love to you half a dozen times, remember?’ Lucien gave a hard, satisfied smile.

She gasped. ‘But I—I already—I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve already—’

‘Foreplay doesn’t count,’ he dismissed. ‘When I’m inside you and we climax together—something I’m greatly looking forward to, by the way—that’s when it counts. And I want you so badly this time I’m not going to last,’ he acknowledged.

He knew it was true. His liking for Cyn, his enjoyment of her company as well as her body, had enhanced their lovemaking to a pitch he had never known before...

Thia gasped. All those incredible, mind-blowing climaxes didn’t count? He couldn’t truly think that she was going to be able to repeat this past hour—or however long it had been since Lucien had started making love to her. She had completely lost track of time! If they did she wouldn’t just lose consciousness, she would surely die. And wouldn’t that look great on her headstone—Here lies Cynthia Hammond, dead from too much pleasure!

But what a wonderful way to go...

Emotion—love...?—swelled in Thia’s chest as she looked down at the man sprawled beneath her on the bed. Lucien really was the most gorgeous, sexy man she had ever met—breathtakingly handsome, elegantly muscled and loose-limbed. And he was all hers.

For the moment, that taunting little voice whispered again inside her head.

This moment was all that mattered. Because it was all there was for her and Lucien. They had no tomorrow. No future. Just here and now.

And she wanted it. Wanted Lucien.

She held that silver gaze with her own and eased up on her knees before reaching down between them, fingers light, as she guided his sheathed length to the slickness of her channel—only to freeze in place as she suddenly heard the unexpected sound of Mozart’s Requiem playing!

‘It’s my mobile,’ Lucien explained impatiently when he saw Cyn’s dazed expression. ‘Damn, it!’ His hands slapped down forcefully onto the mattress beside him. He should have turned the damn thing off before making love with Cyn. Should have—

‘You need to answer it, Lucien.’ A frown marred Cyn’s brow. ‘It must be something important for someone to call again so quickly—and on your mobile this time.’

Nothing was more important at this moment than his need to make love with Cyn. Nothing!

‘Lucien...?’ she prompted huskily as his damned mobile just kept on playing Mozart’s Requiem.

Which, in the circumstances, was very apt...

Talk about killing the moment! One interruption was bad enough. Lucien had managed to save the situation the first time, but he doubted he would be able to do so a second time.

A sentiment Cyn obviously echoed as she slid off and away from him, over to the side of the bed, before bending down to pick up the black silk robe from the floor. Her back was long and slender, ivory skin gleaming pale and oh-so-beautiful in the glow of the lamp, before she slipped her arms into the robe, pulling it about herself and then standing up to fasten the belt. She turned to face him.

‘You have to answer the call, Lucien.’ Her gaze remained firmly fixed on his face rather than lower, where he was still hard and wanting.

Oh, yes, there was no doubting he had to answer the call—and whoever was on the other end of it was going to feel the full force of his displeasure!

He slid to the side of the bed before reaching for his denims and taking his mobile out of the pocket to take the call. ‘Steele,’ he rasped harshly.

Thia winced at the coldness of Lucien’s voice, feeling sorry for whoever was on the other end of that line. At the same time she couldn’t help but admire the play of muscles across the broad width of Lucien’s shoulders and back beneath that bronzed skin as he sat on the other side of the bed, his black hair rakishly tousled from her fingers earlier.

Earlier...

Her cheeks warmed as she thought of those earlier intimacies. Lucien’s hands, lips and tongue caressing her, touching her everywhere. Giving pleasure wherever they touched. Taking her to climax again and again.

Her legs trembled just at remembering that pleasure—

‘I’ll be down in five minutes,’ Lucien grated harshly, before abruptly ending the call and standing up decisively to cross the room and collect up the clothes he had taken off earlier, his eyes cold, his expression grimly discouraging.

Thia looked at him dazedly. He seemed almost unaware of her presence. ‘Lucien...?’

He was scowling darkly as he turned to look at her. ‘That was Dex,’ he bit out economically. ‘It appears that your ex-boyfriend is downstairs in Reception and he’s been making a damned exhibition of himself!’

She gasped. ‘Jonathan?’

Lucien nodded sharply. ‘Unless you have any other ex-boyfriends in New York?’

She gave a pained wince at the harsh anger she heard in his tone. Misdirected anger, in her opinion. ‘I told you—Jonathan was never my boyfriend. And isn’t it more likely he’s making an exhibition of himself in your hotel because you fired him from Network this morning?’

* * *

It was a valid, reasoned argument, Lucien acknowledged impatiently—but at the same time he knew he was just too tense at the moment to be reasoned with. Even by Cyn.

He had enjoyed this evening with her more than he had enjoyed being with a woman for a very long time—if ever. Not just making love to her, but cooking dinner with her, talking freely about everything and nothing, when usually he was careful of how much he revealed about himself to the women he was involved with—a self-defence reflex that simply hadn’t existed with Cyn from the beginning.

And now this.

His mouth thinned with his displeasure. ‘I apologise for being grouchy. I just—’ He ran his hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘I’ll get dressed and go down and sort this situation out. I shouldn’t be long. What are you doing...?’ He frowned as Cyn turned towards the bathroom.

‘Getting dressed so that I can come with you.’

‘You aren’t coming downstairs with me.’

‘Oh, but I am,’ she assured him.

‘No—’

‘Yes,’ she bit out firmly, her hands resting on her hips as she raised challenging brows.

Lucien’s nostrils flared. ‘My hotel. My problem.’

‘Your hotel, certainly. But we don’t know yet whose problem it is,’ she insisted stubbornly.

His jaw clenched. ‘Look, Cyn, there are some things about Miller I don’t believe you’re aware of—’

‘What sort of things?’ She looked at him sharply.

‘Things,’ Lucien bit out tersely. This evening had already gone to hell in a handbasket. Cyn did not need to know about all of Jonathan Miller’s behaviour, or the reason the other man had been using her, which was sure to come out if Miller was as belligerent as Dex had said he was. ‘In the circumstances, the best thing you can do is—’

‘Please don’t tell me that the best thing I can do is to stay up here and make coffee, like a good little woman, and wait until the Mighty Hunter returns!’ Her eyes glowed deeply cobalt.

Apart from the good little woman and Mighty Hunter crack, that was exactly what Lucien had been about to say. ‘Well...maybe you could forget the coffee,’ he said dryly.

‘And maybe I can forget the whole scenario—because it isn’t going to happen!’ She thrust her hands into the pockets of his silk robe.

Lucien noted that it was far too big for her; it was wrapped about her almost twice, with the sleeves turned up to the slenderness of her wrists, and the length reached down to her calves—altogether making her look like a little girl trying to play grown-up.

‘Dex has managed to take Miller to a secure room for the moment, but it could get nasty, Cyn.’

‘I’ve been a waitress for six years; believe me, I know how to deal with nasty,’ she assured him dryly.

Lucien was starting to notice that Cyn seemed to use the waitress angle as a defence mechanism. As if in constant reminder to herself, and more probably Lucien, of who and what she was...

Who she was to Lucien was Cynthia Hammond—a beautiful and independent young woman whom he admired and desired.

What she was to Lucien was also Cynthia Hammond—a beautiful and independent young woman whom Lucien admired as well as desired.

The rest, he realised, had become totally unimportant to him—was just background noise and of no consequence.

Not true of Cyn, obviously...

He drew in a deep breath. ‘I would really rather you didn’t do this.’

‘Your opinion is noted.’ She nodded.

‘But ignored?’

‘But ignored.’

‘Fine,’ he bit out between clenched teeth, knowing he couldn’t like Cyn’s independence of spirit on the one hand and then expect her not to do exactly as she pleased on the other. ‘I’ll be leaving in about two minutes. If you aren’t ready—’

‘I’ll be ready.’

She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Lucien drew in several controlling breaths as he glared at that closed bathroom door, knowing that the next few minutes’ conversation with Miller would in all probability put an end to Lucien and Cyn spending the rest of the night together...

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