Irresistible Greeks: Unsuitable and Unforgettable: At His Majesty's Request / The Fallen Greek Bride / Forgiven but not Forgotten?. Jane Porter. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jane Porter
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474056021
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him. “Oh, no, you don’t disappoint at all.”

      Her heart beat hard, echoing in her temples, at the apex of her thighs. He was amazing. Everything she’d imagined and so much more. She leaned in and trailed her tongue over his stomach muscles, then flicked it over the head of his shaft. He jerked beneath her tongue, a rough groan escaping his lips as he tightened his hold on her hair.

      She felt like she’d been let loose in a candy store. Every delight she could imagine spread before her. And she wasn’t planning on employing restraint.

      She slipped her hand lower, took as much of him into her mouth as she could, reveling in the taste, the feel of him. She could feel the muscles in his thighs shaking, feel the tension in his body as he tried to maintain control.

      She didn’t want his control. She wanted him to lose it. She wanted him to lose it in a way that she couldn’t. She wanted him to do it for her. She more than wanted it, she needed it. Needed his strength to dissolve beneath her, needed to be a part of his undoing. She wanted to exercise the power she had over him. And she did have it. She could feel it. Could feel just how close he was to losing it completely.

      That was what she wanted. Needed. Craved. To have victory tonight, in his bed. To be perfection for him. For herself.

      “Jessica,” he said, and he tugged lightly, trying to move her away from him.

      She didn’t stop. She ran her tongue along his heavy length and she felt his ab muscles contract sharply beneath her hand.

      “Jess,” he said again. His tone a warning.

      She lifted her head, her eyes locking with his. His gaze was clouded, sweat beaded on his forehead. A surge of power rushed through her. “This is for me,” she said. “I want you like this. And I intend to have you.”

      She leaned in again and his fingers tightened, tangling deep in her hair, the slight sting of pain heightening the pleasure that created a hollow ache between her thighs.

      A shaky laugh escaped his lips. “Doesn’t it matter what I want?”

      “Not in the least. But you like this, don’t you?” She traced the head of his shaft with her tongue. “Don’t you?”

      “Theos, yes,” he breathed his consent.

      She continued to pleasure him with her lips and tongue. And she took everything. His ecstasy, every broken breath and trembling muscle, every curse, every word of praise.

      This was her moment. Her pleasure. Her power.

      Her taste of what she truly wanted. A hint of the feast she couldn’t have.

      She didn’t stop until he found his pleasure, his body shaking, his skin slicked with sweat, every vestige of control stripped of him as he found his release.

      He lay on his back after, stroking her cheek. She rested her head on his stomach and closed her eyes. Just for a moment.

      She felt him stir beneath her. He sat up and brought her with him, kissing her on the lips. The kiss intensified, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip, arousal pouring through her.

      When she felt like she was on the edge, she pulled away. Her body trembled, her breath shaky and uneven. She had meant to push him to the brink. She hadn’t realized that she would go with him. She needed sanctuary. Needed escape.

      “That was it,” she said, her voice choked. “I mean … I’m going back to bed now.”

      He frowned. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”

      “Just what I said. Most men would be pretty happy with that.”

      His face was hidden in shadow, his tone dark. “Then why did you come to me tonight?”

      “Because I wanted you. And I got to have you.”

      “You didn’t have an orgasm,” he said, his words blunt in the quiet of the room.

      “I know, but that wasn’t what I came for. I got to have a taste, no pun intended.” She slid off the bed and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “We can talk more tomorrow about how we’re going to handle all this.”

      “This?” he said, indicating the bed.

      She shook her head, heat prickling her cheeks. Not embarrassed heat, but anger. She was so mad at … everything. At her body, at Stavros, at herself. At the fear that lived inside of her. A tenant she couldn’t seem to evict. “No. About Victoria and where we intend to go from here with that part of our arrangement. You wanted a night. This was a good night. Let’s not ruin it now.”

      “I wanted more,” he said. “I still want more.”

      She nodded. “I know.” She wanted more, too. But any more would be far too much. She would have to be too vulnerable. She would have to give too much. Far more than she’d given tonight.

      “Stay with me. Just sleep,” he said.

      That was tempting. Beyond. To sleep in his arms with her head on his chest. To listen to his breathing all night … it surpassed almost every other desire that lived in her.

      Which meant she had to say no. “I need to go to bed.”

      His expression changed, hardened. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said.

      “Okay.”

      She had a feeling that he wasn’t going to stay on the topic she wanted to stay on. If there was one thing she’d learned about Stavros it was that beneath all that charm lay a stubbornness that rivaled her own.

      Stavros’s body still burned. It had been six hours since his late-night visit from Jessica and he couldn’t get it, or her, out of his mind. The way she’d taken him, so confident, so bold and sexy. And the way she’d retreated, arms wrapped around her middle, looking like she wanted to disappear.

      His feelings on the matter didn’t make sense. He’d wanted her to stay. Even if it just meant holding her all night. He’d wanted … he wasn’t sure what he’d wanted.

      Her actions didn’t make sense to him, either. Sex was all about pleasure and release, and she’d taken none for herself. She hadn’t removed any of her clothes, he’d barely touched her, and yet, she’d acted as though it was what she wanted.

      And then she’d acted like they weren’t going to talk about it. She was so very wrong on that count.

      His housekeeper refilled his mug of coffee and retreated from the terrace as he lifted the cup to his lips. There was another mug placed across from him and the contents were getting cold, but they were ready for Jessica, when she decided to show herself.

      “Morning.” He turned and saw Jessica, buttoned up into a yellow dress that covered her from knee to throat, a white belt spanning her tiny waist. She was clutching her little computer in her hands. Her tiny electronic shield.

      “Good morning,” he said, not bothering to be discreet in his appraisal of her. Her cheeks flushed as she sat down across from him.

      She took a sip of her coffee and frowned, not swallowing, not spitting it back out, either.

      “Cold?” he asked. She nodded, her frown intensifying. “Bitter?” She nodded again. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

      She swallowed slowly, her lip curling into a grimace. “I’ll need fresh coffee.”

      “Leda will be back soon,” he said.

      “So, things went well last night?”

      He said nothing, simply looked at her until the double meaning of her words hit her. He could tell when they did, because she blushed, her lips pulling into a pucker.

      “With Victoria,” she said sharply.

      “Very well.” He leaned back in his chair. His heart was beating faster than usual, and that surprised him. He was always in control of himself. Although,