Dressed to Thrill. Bella Frances

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СКАЧАТЬ licked and she fought to keep up. His hands were now on her waist, feeling and learning her shape. She knew he was going to cup her heavy breasts and she longed for it.

      ‘Touch me, please…’ she said, his mouth swallowing her plea.

      And he did. He filled his hands with the heavy weight of each breast and he gently massaged. His thumbs brushed over her nipples through the satin material of her dress, and then he rolled them into points of utter agony and pleasure.

      He didn’t ask her what she wanted. He just gave her what she needed.

      He scooped her up and strode with her into—it had to be his bedroom. Dropped her to her feet and spun her round.

      ‘Dress. Off.’

      He was worse than rude but she sucked it up like nectar and began to push silk-covered buttons through loops, to unzip and shimmy her dress over her hips. Nothing in the world would stop her getting her fill of him—of those warm strong hands smoothing their way over her skin. Even as she stepped out of it he was working magic with his touch—leaving hot trails in the wake of his fingers.

      ‘You are so damn hot.’

      All he said as he took his hands and mouth from her for a moment. She grabbed at his shirt, fingers useless on the buttons. But he stilled her. Stepped back from her. Looked at her standing in a pool of cream silk satin, her nipples straining hard through the gauze of her bra and her knickers shielding the last of her secrets. She felt as if his look was licking the flames of hell across her skin.

      It was a party she’d never been invited to before. And she wanted some.

      Her eyes drank him in now. Nothing but pure, firm, wide muscle across his chest. She ran her fingers; then her mouth across it, inhaling and tasting and licking. He pulled off his trousers and her mouth opened in wonder. His thick, long erection jutted out and she couldn’t stop herself from dropping to her knees, wrapping her hand and then her mouth around him.

      But he heaved her up by the arms and lifted her to the bed. Placed her down and pushed her back. Then his hands wrapped around her panties and he tugged them down and tossed them aside. She sat back on her elbows and watched his face. He took her ankles and opened her legs, then dipped his head and licked the hottest trail of fire up and over her.

      She jerked up and he put his arm across her chest. His head shook.

      ‘Not yet.’

      He dipped his head again and lapped and suckled her mercilessly until she began to feel the fire inside her building and spreading. Burning and blooming through her lower body. She looked down, loving the sight of his dark head nestled between her thighs. His mouth tortured and the spasms built until she lost her mind and her orgasm rolled and crashed. She screamed with the release and then lay still, aftershocks jerking suddenly, gently, quietly.

      But his mouth, laced with the taste of her, came down swiftly on her lips, kissing and tonguing and building the fire all over again. He grabbed at her wrists and tugged her up the bed. She followed, unhooked her bra and watched, fascinated, as he sheathed himself with a condom. She longed to feel him inside her—just longed for it.

      He wasn’t going fast enough and she moved to sit up.

      ‘Just lie back, Tara. On your back.’

      And she fell back to the bed to watch him. And his eyes held hers again as she felt him nudge her open and then slide deep, deep inside. She whimpered—like a puppy—and then moved with his rhythm. All the time his dark eyes sparked and held hers.

      What had she been doing those other times? With men who’d needed a road map?

      He loomed above her, wide strong shoulders and caramel skin melding with the warm waves of pleasure that were rolling with every hard thrust.

      ‘This feel good, Tara?’

      Those eyes drilled and held and the intensity built.

      ‘Hmm, honey? Do you feel it now—the attraction?’

      She didn’t give a damn that he was proving his point. He could prove it to hell and back if it made her feel like this.

      And she grabbed his head down to hers and kissed him quiet. He leaned forward and flipped her round so that she rode him. She tilted her hips and shifted her weight and still she stared into those eyes. Something else was building—something huge and powerful in her chest—and she felt a moment of fear or wonder.

      Then he reached up and touched her mouth. And rocked her even as she rode him. And she knew nothing could be this good ever again with anyone else. Her next orgasm surged and rolled through her as he jerked and exploded deep inside. And all the time his eyes held hers and she felt the burning squeeze in her chest return. Too intense. Too strong.

      She closed her eyes. Hung her head and calmed.

      A moment passed—two at most—then he threw his arms back and blew out a breath. That would be the sign to hop off, then. She braced her arms on the bed and slid slowly off. He still felt big and thick inside her, and it felt so damn good. But reality was beginning to dawn along with the early autumn sunrise. They had just had sex. He hadn’t looked at her, touched her or soothed her. He hadn’t said a single word. She was just a lay.

      Silence.

      The window she passed was undressed and looked out onto all her favourite London landmarks. She paused for a moment, imprinting the view on her mind—all the shapes and colours of skyscape and roofline—bridges, towers, clocks and wheels. All with the flush of dawn behind.

      He blew out another long breath. ‘You’d better get dressed.’

      ‘I am.’ She cast a look round to where he was still lying. Michael Cruz—beautiful, arrogant, not her type at all.

      ‘Don’t sound sore. I only mean that Angelica and her friends are bound to be here in minute, and it would best if we were ready to welcome her to a party rather than a love-in.’

      ‘I know what you meant. I said I’m going to get dressed. You don’t mind if I have a little clean-up first, though, do you?’

      She knew her tone was bitchy, but he was such a swine. That had to be the worst post-coital talk she’d ever experienced. And she’d walked right into it. What was she even doing here? A favour? To a girl she barely knew and her extremely cosmopolitan sister? And, OK, she felt a solidarity with them, was happy to help them get one over on yet another controlling man.

      A controlling man with a legendary sexual reputation that she couldn’t even begin to conjure up any immunity to.

      Why had she let herself in for this? What had made her think that she had the emotional wherewithal to pull it off? She needed rules and boundaries. She couldn’t dabble like this! She could flirt. She could most definitely tease. But she knew herself well enough to understand that she invested too much when she took it any further. She couldn’t help it that the heart she wore on her sleeve was just really well covered up. And the camouflage of her comments would be all that he would know.

      ‘Go right ahead. There’s a bathroom—there.’

      He flicked his hand and stood up and she tried hard not to be impressed by that body again, but the man was beyond fit. What a shame his personality was СКАЧАТЬ