A Sudden Engagement. PENNY JORDAN

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СКАЧАТЬ that she marvelled that she could ever have imagined she could withstand it. The touch of his hands on her bare arms and midriff triggered off tiny pinpricks of pleasure, each one shivering through her, shocking her afresh. He seemed to know exactly where to kiss and touch. Violence she could have withstood, but not this subtle, sensual attack on her senses, this slowly seductive destruction of all her barriers until her breasts ached to know the possession of those skilled male hands, her lips parting involuntarily, as his tongue teased their trembling shape, the skilled stroking of his hands along her body, making her forget what had originally brought her to his suite, her body in the grip of a feverishly mounting desire that both shocked and fascinated the tiny corner of her

      mind which had managed to stand aloof from his expert assault on her senses.

      ‘That’s better,’ she heard him mutter approvingly, raw sexuality underlining the words as he deftly unfastened her bra, and added throatily, ‘much, much better,’ his eyes feasting on the swelling curves he had just exposed.

      She should feel shame, but she didn’t, Kirsty marvelled. Some wild, wanton part of her she had never dreamed existed positively revelled in the hungry intensity of his gaze, but even so, she wasn’t prepared for his husky groan or the sight of the dark head buried against her breasts, his breath ragged and warm against the tender flesh as lean fingers cupped her rounded softness.

      ‘God, but you’re beautiful! But you already know that, don’t you?’

      Kirsty trembled as the coaxing fingers stroked tormentingly over the hard arousal of her nipple, her breathing ragged and shallow at the sensation the sensual caress aroused. Deep down inside her something seemed to be flowering into life, a weak, yielding sensation, curling through her stomach, the hands she had lifted to push Drew away in protest, hesitating until the rough texture of his skin against the acutely sensitised tip of her breast made her fingers curl in mute protest into the softness of his hair, a small cry smothered deep in her throat.

      ‘God, I want you! Want you, Kirsty Stannard,’ Drew muttered hoarsely as his tongue touched the flesh his thumb had so recently been tormenting. Kirsty’s eyes widened in shock at the exquisite flowering of pleasure his touch evoked, and as though he sensed her feelings, Drew muttered something under his breath, his hand cupping the swollen softness of her before his lips closed gently over the throbbing nipple.

      Kirsty closed her eyes, shuddering with the waves of pleasure sweeping her, her whole being given up to concentration on the fierce tide of feeling enveloping her. Small moans of delight trembled past her lips, her whole body shaken with the torrent of sensation. Above her she heard Drew groan savagely, ‘Kirsty—my God, what are you trying to do to me? Touch me, for God’s sake, and stop driving me mad! Can’t you tell how much I want to feel all of you against me?’

      Kirsty was beyond thought, beyond reason, swept along on a tide of sensual pleasure; a voyage of discovery which was taking her to a world she had never dreamed existed.

      Drew’s lips left her breasts to trail burning kisses over her collarbone and against her throat. He had pulled of his shirt and the rough tangle of body hair on his chest scraped arousingly against the tenderness of her skin. In a daze Kirsty was aware of his removing his pants; of the powerful masculinity of his thighs, the taut muscles, beneath skin darkened with the same crisp hairs that covered his chest. She made no demur when he removed the last of her own clothes, trembling slightly beneath the burning intensity of his gaze, experiencing for the first time the piercing tension of desire.

      ‘You’re a witch, do you know that?’ she heard Drew demand thickly as his hand rested possessively on the narrow bones of her hips. ‘A witch, and God help me, I want you!’

      Kirsty had forgotten that he had promised to make her want him; that the only reason she was here was punishment, and instead, her body gloried in the heady knowledge that she had aroused him; that he wanted her. Innocent though she was, she knew that much; felt it in the taut control of his muscles, saw it in the dark intensity of his eyes as they studied the pale curves of her body; heard it in the husky imprecations he was muttering under his breath, as his hands swept up and moulded her to him, his mouth buried hotly in hers as her arms tightened instinctively around him, her body on fire with a need to melt against him.

      When he lifted his mouth it was merely to mutter hoarsely, ‘Kirsty, don’t make me wait any longer—I can’t, God help me. I don’t know what it is about you,’ he added ruefully, ‘but you seem to have turned me into a raw, uncontrolled boy again.’ His hands cupped her face as he turned it up to her own. ‘Forget what I said earlier,’ he told her roughly ‘This isn’t for revenge, or punishment, or anything else. It’s for me,’ he added huskily, ‘for the sheer pleasure of feeling you melt against me, for knowing the delight of your body. Love me, Kirsty,’ he begged throatily, parting her thighs urgently to slide between them, the heated pressure of his mouth silencing every emotion but the need to respond to the demands of his body.

      And yet.… The taut masculinity of him was faintly alarming. Her muscles tensed automatically, and Kirsty was aware of him hesitating, checking suddenly, a frown touching his eyes.

      He moved against her, almost experimentally, Kirsty thought on a sudden burning wave of embarrassment, and yet it was impossible for her to unlock her inexperienced muscles. Half of her still cried out for fulfilment, but the other half protested that things were moving too far too fast. She felt Drew move away from her, and turned her head, unable to meet his eyes.

      ‘Well now.’ She was amazed at how calm and controlled he sounded. ‘There are only two reasons for a reaction like that. Either you’re frigid—which we both know isn’t so—or you’re still a virgin. Are you, Kirsty?’ he demanded, suddenly grasping her shoulders and turning her round to face him. ‘And don’t lie to me. Are you?’

      ‘Does it make any difference?’ Instead of sounding defiant she sounded merely pathetic. Drew swore and she felt tears sting her eyes. An hour ago she would have welcomed this confrontation, welcomed the opportunity to throw her innocence down between them like a gauntlet, but now she felt curiously bereft of the warmth of his body, there was an ache in the pit of her stomach that left her restless and unappeased, and humiliation lay across her mind like a brand because she had betrayed her inexperience so easily, after succumbing so completely to his touch.

      ‘I suppose I should have known,’ he continued in evident disgust. ‘Only a fool or a complete innocent would have pulled a stunt like that in the first place.’ He pushed impatient fingers through his hair and reached for her clothes.

      ‘Here, put these on,’ he commanded curtly, cursing softly when her fingers trembled over the slips of silk, turning her round while he fastened the clip of her bra, dressing her with the ruthless efficiency he might have applied to a child, his mouth a thin line as he demanded,

      ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you what might happen? No, don’t bother answering that,’ he continued in a harsh voice. ‘It’s plain your experience of frustrated males is nil.’

      He made her sound like a child, Kirsty thought tiredly, and yet only such a short time before he had been all too prepared to consider her a woman.…

      ‘Well, perhaps next time you’ll think before you act,’ he was saying, much like a schoolteacher to a backward pupil, and fresh humiliation seared her. What must he think of her?

      ‘Here!’

      He passed her the old dressing gown she had discarded earlier, and while she struggled into it with trembling fingers, Kirsty was aware of him moving about, dressing swiftly.

      ‘Are you staying at the hotel?’

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