Автор: Jennie Lucas
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408975268
isbn:
How many men would have been so bold? So ruthless, to want a woman and just kiss her?
She felt Roark’s dark hungry gaze watching her from the edge of the dance floor, and she knew he was remembering it, as well. Her cheeks went hot. She stopped on the dance floor even as other couples whirled around them.
“What’s wrong, Lia?” Andrew asked with concern. “You look ill.”
She backed away. Everything felt so confused. “I’m just feeling a little dizzy,” she whispered, her teeth chattering. “I need some air.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. I need a minute—alone.” She turned and ran, desperate to make it out of the ballroom and out of the hotel long enough for a few deep cold breaths. She needed to feel the wintry air to cool her hot cheeks and freeze her heart to the way it was before Roark had returned to New York.
But she was only halfway down the hallway before Roark was upon her. He pushed her into a broom closet. He shut the door with a bang, locking out the world behind them, cloaking the small room in darkness.
“Roark,” she gasped. “We can’t—”
“Have you slept with him?” he demanded tersely.
“Who?” she gasped.
“That old man,” he said harshly. “And all the others who lust after you. How many men have you taken to your bed since I left you?”
She stiffened. “It’s none of your damned business—”
“Answer me!” His hands gripped her shoulders painfully in the darkness. “Have you given yourself to any other man?”
“No!” she cried, twisting beneath his hands. “But I wish I had. I wish I’d slept with a dozen men, a hundred, to get the memory of your touch off my skin—”
He pulled her against him with a hard, unyielding kiss. His hands moved over her silk dress, caressing her backside as he crushed her breasts against the hard muscle of his chest.
Her skin sizzled where he touched. A soft whisper of a moan escaped Lia as she felt her bones melt and her body turn to butter in his arms.
CHAPTER NINE
HAD she ever wanted anyone like this?
Ever wanted anything like this?
As he kissed her, plundering her lips with insatiable hunger, Lia wanted more. She reached her arms over his shoulders and gripped him to her. She could hear the rush of blood in her ears as he flicked his tongue against hers, kissing her deeper still. She felt the strength of his body in the darkness and felt as if she was floating. Flying. Every inch of her body was tense with the agony of longing.
She wanted him so badly, she thought she’d die if he stopped kissing her now….
“I can’t take this, Lia.” She felt Roark’s ragged breath against her skin, the roughness of his cheek against her own. “I can’t take being without you.”
Her breasts were tight, her nipples taut against his chest. His every move caused a new explosion of her nerve endings in her breasts and between her thighs. She felt him hard and ready for her. She closed her eyes in the darkness, swaying against him with a quick, shallow intake of breath.
She felt as if she’d been sleeping her whole life. Waiting for this—only this. Her whole body was exploding like fire.
She’d been waiting for Roark since the day she was born.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he said hoarsely. “Just mine.”
Lia’s eyes flew open.
Oh, my God, what was she doing in Roark’s arms? Allowing him to touch her—allowing him to kiss her in a broom closet? Had she lost her mind? With Andrew still waiting for her in the wedding reception down the hall!
“Let me go!” She struggled to be free of Roark’s grasp. “I don’t want you—”
He cut her off with a hungry kiss. His lips were hot and tight on hers, bruising her, searing her tongue with his own. The more she tried to resist his embrace, the more forcefully he convinced her. Mastering her. Enslaving her. Until her hatred changed to furious passion and the unyielding force of mutual need.
She wrapped her hands up around his back, kissing him with all the pent-up anger and longing of the past eighteen months.
“I hate you,” she whispered against his mouth. “I hate you so much.”
“I’m tired of wanting you. Tired of hungering for what I can’t have.” His voice was a deep whisper in the darkness. The stubble on his chin was rough against her skin. “I’ve spent the past year trying to forget how your body felt against mine. Hate me all you want. But I’m still going to have you.”
He slowly kissed down her throat, moving his hands over her breasts, over the silky smoothness of her shirtdress.
Then she felt him fall to his knees in front of her. For a moment he didn’t touch her, and she felt adrift in the darkness; then she felt his strong hands moving slowly past her knee-high black boots, up her bare thighs.
She trembled and shook. “Roark … what are you …?”
“Shhh.”
He stroked the outside of her legs to the curve of her hips. He ran his fingertips along the lace edge of her silken panties. He lifted her skirt. She felt his hot breath on the inside of her thighs.
“Roark,” she gasped.
He moved forward to kiss and lick her thighs. Then his kisses climbed higher. He moved his hand over her panties, cupping her, stroking the moistening spot between her legs. He kissed her through the sliver of fabric, pulling at the silk gently with his teeth.
She sucked in her breath. He yanked her underwear to the floor, rolling it like a whisper down her legs. He reached between her naked thighs, stroking her with his fingers until she was sopping wet.
Then he took his first taste of her.
She gasped, arching her back against the wall of the broom closet. She gripped his shoulders.
“You can’t … we mustn’t—”
But he didn’t listen. He didn’t stop.
Holding her firmly, he pressed her legs apart, lifting her knee over his shoulder. He tipped her body back against the wall. She felt his hot breath between her legs.
Her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she trembled.
“No,” she whimpered, even as she involuntarily arched to meet his mouth.
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