Harlequin Presents January 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Sheikh's Desert Duty\Nine Months to Redeem Him\Fonseca's Fury\The Russian's Ultimatum (27 page)

“It's wrong,” he agreed.

My eyes flew open.

He was looking down at me with a glint in his eye. “You're sacked, Miss Maywood. Effective immediately.”

I gave an indignant squeak. “You're
firing
me?”

“You said it yourself.” He quirked a dark eyebrow. “I don't need a physio anymore. What I need...” Reaching out, he slowly stroked down the valley of my breasts, “is a lover.”

Lover
. I shivered at the word. So erotic. So suggestive. Not just of sensual delights, but emotional ones.

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” I breathed.

“No.” He gave a low laugh. “Not a
girlfriend.
Just my friend. And my lover. For as long as we enjoy it.” Lowering his head, he kissed my naked belly, making me shiver at the sensation of his lips and rough chin and tiny flick of his tongue against my belly button. He looked up. “This isn't a
commitment.
I won't be asking you to the movies with a box of chocolates, asking to meet your family.” His eyes narrowed. “I am not
nice,
Diana. I look out for myself. I expect you to do the same.” His lips lifted at the edges. “For all I know, you'll soon go back to Jason Black.”

“I—”

“It doesn't matter,” he cut me off. “I don't expect you to stay with me forever. It's fine,” he said lightly, searching my face. “I wouldn't want to get too accustomed to you.”

I am not
nice
, Diana. I look out for myself. I expect you to do the same.
When a man tells you something bad about himself, that is the time to listen. I stared up at him in the shadows of the bed, hearing only my own ragged breath, my own heartbeat, as I tried to focus on his words. But I was distracted, burning hot with his naked body over mine.

Don't lie to yourself about what the end will be,
Mrs. Warreldy-Gribbley had warned.
If you forget yourself and let him lure you into his sensual designs—

But I didn't want to think about her anymore. The woman had written the book in 1910, I thought irritably. What did she know? I shut the book in my mind, locking it away forever.

And I smiled up at Edward. “Good to know,” I said, matching his light tone. “I wouldn't want to get too accustomed to you either. I have things to do in life.”

“Do you?” he said, sounding amused. Then, moving closer, he looked at me. My heart pounded as his breathtakingly beautiful face, just inches from mine, was illuminated in moonlight, making him look like a dark angel. “Yes,” he murmured. “I think you do. You're meant for great things in life, Diana.”

My lips parted, and I felt suddenly tearful for no good reason, other than that no one had ever said such a thing to me. No one, not since my mother had died—

“Great things,” Edward whispered again, lowering his head to mine. His lips curved wickedly. “Starting with tonight...”

He kissed me, his hands stroking down the length of my body, slowly removing the last of my clothes, my skirt, my cotton stockings. He ran his hand appreciatively along my hips, my thighs. My breasts. He unclasped my bra so easily, he practically just looked at it to make it spring open. Dropping the flimsy blue silk off my body, he cupped one of my breasts with both hands. I sucked in my breath, my whole body taut.

He pulled away with a low curse.

“I forgot you're a virgin.” He shook his head with an irritated growl. “So let me make this really clear for you. One more time. For the sake of my own conscience.”

“I thought you didn't have one,” I said weakly.

“This is all I can give you.” His eyes met mine. “No marriage. No children. All I can offer is—this.” He kissed me, feather-light, running down my bare, trembling throat, to my clavicle. I felt his hands cup my naked breasts, felt his fingers lightly squeeze the full, heavy flesh. He lowered his mouth with agonizing slowness to an aching nipple, then stopped at the last moment. He looked up at me. “Do you agree?”

As he spoke, his lips and breath brushed my taut nipple, and I shook beneath him, lost in desire, lost in pleasure,
lost.

He was offering cheap, no-strings sex. No marriage. No children. Not even love.

So? I thought suddenly. What had love ever done for me? Only broken my heart.

This was better than love.

“Yes.” I whispered, reaching for him. “Yes...”

Then his lips came down on my skin, his tongue swirling my nipple as he suckled me, and I gasped, gripping the sheets.

CHAPTER FOUR

H
IS
TONGUE
SWIRLED
hot and tight against my nipple, and I shivered beneath him. He nibbled with his teeth, drawing me more deeply into his mouth. My breast felt full and heavy and taut beneath his hands. I felt his hips grind against me.

Moving to my other breast, he squeezed the aching nipple, tasting the exquisitely sensitive nub with a flick of his tongue. He took it fully into his mouth, suckling me. And all the while, I felt the hard ridge of him between my legs.

Drawing back, he ran his hands down the sides of my body. I felt his heat and weight pressing me into the comforter and soft white pillows of the king-size bed. Unlike the soft stroke of his hands, his lips were hard, searing mine as he gave me a kiss that had no tenderness, only fierce demand.

His fingers tangled and twisted in my hair, tilting my head so he could plunder my mouth more deeply. All my memories, all my regrets, faded into the past as I dissolved into lust—so purely alive, so purely desired. I kissed him back with all the trembling pent-up desire of my whole life.

The bristles of dark hair that covered his chest and forearms and his legs—and everywhere between—brushed roughly against my naked skin. He held me with ruthless, raw masculine power.

I felt his enormous hardness between my legs, brushing against my lower belly as he moved against me. His tongue twirled around mine as he kissed me, flicking the edges of my bruised mouth before he moved lower, kissing along my throat, working his way downward. Pressing my breasts together with his hands, he thrust his tongue into the crevasse between them, and I gasped. His breath was hot against my skin as he continued to kiss downward...down my belly and then...

Abruptly, he moved up to suckle an earlobe. My nipples felt taut almost to the point of pain as I felt the brush of his muscled chest. He moved to the other earlobe, still moving his hips sensuously against mine.

“You're—teasing me,” I panted accusingly. I felt his smile against my neck.

“Yes,” he murmured against my skin. “I intend to make you weep.”

Slowly, delicately, he lifted my palm. He kissed the hollow, then moved his head to suck each fingertip, one by one.

I'd never thought of fingers as erogenous zones but feeling the warmth of his mouth on each fingertip, the hot wet swirl of his tongue, the hard pull of his teeth, I shook beneath him. He repeated it on my other hand, delicately sucking on each finger until I was dizzy and gasping for breath.

Slowly, he moved down my body. I felt his hot lips and wet tongue against each taut, aching nipple. His tongue swirled, his hands cupping each full, heavy breast. With a gasp, I closed my eyes, gripping the comforter.

With deliberate, agonizing slowness, he again began to move down my naked body in a trail of hot kisses. My eyes flew open in the semidarkness of the bedroom when I felt his hands move low, over my hips, running lightly over my thighs. When he brushed feather-light over the hair between my legs, I audibly choked out a gasp.

He lifted his head up lazily. “Just wait.”

Lowering his head to my belly button, he flicked it with his tongue, inside it, inside me. But even as I shivered, his mouth moved down farther.

And farther.

Running his hands over the swell of my hips, he lowered his head between my legs. I felt the warmth of his breath
right there
and gave a sharp gasp, gripping his shoulders as my head tossed back.

But he made me wait. Made me
want
. He just kept moving down my legs, all the way, down to my feet. Parting my knees, he stroked the hollow of each foot, gently massaging it, causing a different kind of pleasure to spiral up my body. He pushed my legs farther apart. Stroking up my calves, he kissed the hollow beneath my knee. I gripped his shoulders, my eyes squeezed shut.

Using his shoulders, he roughly spread my thighs all the way apart.

My breathing was ragged as I gripped the comforter, trembling beneath him. I felt the heat of his breath on the tender skin of my inner thighs. Shivering, I tried to scoot away, though I wanted it so badly. He held me down firmly. His hands pressed my legs wide. He lowered his head with agonizing slowness, making me hold my breath until I thought I might faint—

I felt the hot, wet stroke of his tongue against my slick core, and gave a muffled cry. He paused, then licked me again, this time lapping me with the full width of his tongue. As my hips twisted helplessly beneath him, he held me down, forcing me to accept the pleasure as I nearly writhed with agonized need.

“Please,” I whimpered, hardly knowing what I was saying. Barely realizing that I was speaking at all. “
Please
.”

He gave a low laugh.

Pushing me wider, he worked me with his tongue, lapping me with the full width one moment, then using the tip to swirl tighter, ever tighter, against the hard aching center.

He slowly pushed a fingertip inside me. Then two. As I held my breath with pleasure, he stretched me wide with his thick fingers, while licking and suckling me with his tongue.

My body was on fire, my back arching from the bed. I'd lost the ability to take a full breath. I twisted beneath him, no longer trying to get away, merely to end the sweet torment. I'd never imagined it could be like this—pleasure to the point of pain— Higher—tighter—

I heard a building scream from a voice I'd never heard before, a voice I would only later realize was mine. My eyelids half closed as I left the earth and exploded past the sun.

As I gasped for breath, Edward moved quickly, bracing himself with his hands on either side of my hips. Positioning himself between my legs, he thrust himself inside me. His full length. All at once, thick and hard, ripping through me with jarring pain.

With a choked gasp, I pushed on his hips, wanting the pain to stop. He held still inside me. Then, as my grip on his hips loosened, he slowly began to move again. He pulled back, then slowly filled me again, giving me time to grow accustomed to the size of him. He filled me, stretching me inch by inch, slowly, sensuously; and the red haze of pain turned orange, then pink, then began to bubble and fizz like champagne. My body, which had been briefly limp on the bed, began to quicken again, to grow taut and tense with new desire.

Gripping my hips with his large hands tight enough to bruise, he thrust harder, until he was riding me rough and fast. My back again began to arch off the bed as he filled me deep and hard, stretching me to my limit, and beyond....

With a curse, he abruptly pulled out. I opened my eyes, nearly hyperventilating with need.

Looking at him in the slanted moonlight on his enormous bed, I saw he'd opened a condom and was peeling it over his huge length.

“I forgot,” he said grimly. “I never forget.”

My mouth suddenly went dry. “Then is it possible—”

“It's fine,” he growled. Leaning forward, he kissed me passionately, until I forgot to worry about anything, until I forgot my own name. “Look at me.”

I did. Our eyes met as he pushed back inside me, inch by throbbing inch. I gasped. As the pleasure built, I started to close my eyes, to turn away.

“Look at me,” he repeated harshly.

Against my will, I obeyed. Our eyes locked as he thrust inside me. I felt every inch of him as he filled me, then increased the rhythm, shoving harder and faster as he gripped my hips. Tension coiled low and deep inside me, building tighter and tighter.

It was shockingly intimate to watch his face. Almost more intimate, even, than having him inside me. I felt the muscles of his backside grow tense beneath my hands, tense with the strain of holding himself back so tightly. Why did he hold back? Why?

Then I knew.

For me.

He thrust roughly into me, swaying my breasts as our sweaty naked bodies slid and clung together. He thrust again, so deep he impaled me. And something inside me suddenly spiraled out of control, rising from ash like a burst of fire. I was consumed by it, then exploded like a phoenix. I screamed, and heard his answering growl, as he clutched my hips tight enough to bruise. With a hoarse cry, he filled me with one last brutal, savage thrust, then collapsed over me with a groan.

I held him in the moonlight on the bed, this powerful giant of a man who'd overwhelmed me with the sweet torment of pleasure, now weak as a kitten. Closing my eyes, I cuddled him to my body, my heart in my throat.

I'd never imagined sex was like this, never.

“See?” Still panting, Edward nuzzled my neck. His voice was filled with masculine self-satisfaction as he traced his fingertips down my cheek. “I told you.”

“What?” I choked out, holding him closer, never wanting to let him go.

His dark blue eyes smiled sleepily into mine. “That I would make you weep.”

Astonished, I touched my face and found he was right. He'd made me weep. It was the first time.

It wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Sunlight poured golden through the windows as Edward woke me with a kiss. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I said a little shyly, yawning. Our bodies were still naked, our limbs intertwined. I felt amazingly, blissfully sore in all the right places.

We'd made love three times last night. After the explosive first time, we'd slept in each other's arms until at midnight we'd decided we were hungry. Putting on robes, we'd gone down to the dark, empty kitchen to hunt for a snack, giggling like naughty teenagers.

Naughty indeed. One minute Edward's hand was reaching for the bread box, the next it was beneath my silk robe, and the minute after that he pushed me against the kitchen wall. The fact that we could have been discovered at any moment by Mrs. MacWhirter or the other servants just made it more dangerous. Ripping my belt loose, he'd taken me against the wall, wrapping my legs around his hips as he thrust hard and deep, until I gripped his shoulders in a silent cry. It was fast. It was rough.

It was delicious.

After a quick meal of sandwiches and cake in the dark kitchen, giggling and whispering, we'd gone back upstairs. We were both so sweaty, we decided to take a shower. I don't know how this happened, either. One minute he was shampooing my hair, and I was standing on my tiptoes, reaching up to shampoo his. He playfully flicked some lather on my nose, and in retaliation, I smacked his butt really hard. He grabbed me, and two seconds later, he was shoving me against the shower's steamy glass, murmuring words of desire against my hot, rosy skin as he made love to me beneath the scorching stream of shooting water.

I shivered, remembering. Even now, as he held me in the morning light, Edward was looking at me hungrily, and I felt my body respond.

Had he been watching me sleep, waiting for me to wake? I hoped not. I'd been dreaming about him. We'd been having a summer picnic in the garden. The sky was blue, the sun warm, and flowers were in bloom around us. He'd held me close on the blanket, and when I whispered that I loved him, his dark blue eyes had lit up.
I love you, Diana,
he'd said.

What if I'd been talking in my sleep? He would freak out if he knew. “I hope I didn't wake you up by snoring or, er...” I blushed. “...talking in my sleep.”

“No,” Edward growled, rolling me beneath him. It seemed he hadn't woken me to talk. “You slept like the dead. Another two seconds and you would have woken up with me inside you.”

“It doesn't sound like the worst way to—” He covered my mouth with his own, thrusting smoothly inside me. He was as hard as if we hadn't made love three times already; I was as wet as if he hadn't brought me to aching, explosive climax again and again.

If the other times had been passionate or rough, now, as he took me in the golden light of morning, he was tender, even gentle. How could we still be so unsatiated, so hungry for more? I grasped his shoulders tight, digging into his skin with my fingertips, holding my breath as he pushed deeper into me, until six thrusts later we were both sweaty and crying out and clutching each other.

He pulled me close, kissing my temple.

“What you do to me...” he whispered against my sweaty skin, and my soul expanded into every inch of my body. I sighed, closing my eyes and pressing my cheek against his warm, hard-muscled chest. It felt so right to be in his arms. For the first time in my life, I wasn't thinking about the past or the future. I was exactly where I wanted to be.

It was after noon by the time we woke again. “Good afternoon,” he whispered now, smiling as he kissed me.

“Good afternoon.” I sighed, then stretched across the bed. “I hate to get up.”

“So don't.”

“I'm hungry.” I smiled, then my smile faltered. “And I have a lot to pack.”

“Pack?” He frowned. “For what?”

“For home.”

“You're leaving?”

He sounded indignant. An unwilling laugh lifted to my lips. “You fired me.”

“Ah.” Relaxing, Edward looked thoughtful. “
Fired
is such a strong word.
Made redundant
is more accurate. By your own hard work, I might add.” He tilted his head. “Now, you're probably asking yourself, what kind of heartless bastard would cut someone out of a job right before Christmas?”

“Um, you?”

He laughed. “You've been paid in full. While you were on your walk yesterday, I had my secretary deposit your entire promised salary—the whole year's worth.”

I stared at him. “What?”

He looked amused. “You really should pay more attention to your bank account.”

“You're right,” I said. Tell me something I didn't know. “Well. Um. Thanks. I guess I'll go pack...”

“Don't go.” He grabbed my wrist. His voice was low. “I want you to stay with me. Through the New Year, at the very least. Not as my employee, but as my—”

“Yes,” I blurted out.

Snorting, he lifted a dark eyebrow. “I could have said
slave.
”