Modern Romance January Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Series Collections
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474095303
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A wildness that she had not known existed.

      Everything she had felt when on the dance floor with him, that sense of flying, freedom, was amplified now. And there was an edge to it. Something sharp, something sweet. A sense of desperation, but also something leisurely. As if she could hold on to this desperate, building feeling forever and ever. Hold off whatever storm was encroaching.

      Because those rough hands skating over every inch of her curves, that large palm coming down to cup her butt as he pulled her more firmly against his body, allowing her to feel his heart and arousal up against her stomach, was such a heady, magical thing that she never wanted it to end.

      Then he moved both hands to her hips, drawing them down to her thighs, and he lifted her up off the ground completely, wrapping her legs around his waist, bringing the vulnerable center of her up against all that hardened masculinity.

      She gasped, a burst of pleasure breaking inside her, a wave of sensation pulsing between her legs.

      And she wondered if that was it.

      “Not yet,” he said as if reading her mind. He dragged his lips down her throat, kissing the tender skin there, before licking the edge of her collarbone, and down farther to her breast, drawing one nipple into his mouth as he rocked his hips forward, sending another shock of sensation through her.

      He squeezed her bottom, pulling her forward as he arched his hips again, and she gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin as that small, pulsing sensation bloomed, expanded and became a never-ending storm inside her. That earlier feeling had only been a preview. A small taste of what was to come. This was endless. It was incredible. She never wanted it to stop, and yet she wasn’t afraid she could withstand much more. He wanted this to happen to her multiple times over the course of the evening? She would never survive. Ever. It would break her. Destroy her. She was certain.

      She gasped, and then went limp in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder, and he held her fast, moving through the open floor plan toward a door off to the left. He kicked it open, and then deposited her on a large bed at the center of the room.

      She was still feeling languid and boneless from the force of her release, far too aroused and satisfied to feel any nerves about what might come next.

      When he lowered himself down onto the bed, her heart leaped into her throat, her entire body on edge.

      But then he looked at her, and she remembered his promise. That he would not let her fall. That he wouldn’t let her steps falter.

      He hadn’t promised not to hurt her. She imagined that even with all of her years of riding horses it was going to hurt a bit, but he had promised that in the end it would be right. And she clung to that. She didn’t need for it to be painless. She just needed it to be.

      He moved his rough hand down her stomach, beneath the waistband of her panties and down between her thighs where he found her aroused and ready for his touch.

      She wasn’t embarrassed for him to know. How much she desired him. How ready her body was for his invasion.

      He pressed two fingers down tightly, bracketing that sensitive bundle of nerves there, making her shiver, making her shake. Making her long for another release, which she would have imagined impossible only a moment before.

      She shivered. “I want you,” she whispered.

      “Do you want me?” he asked, his dark eyes burning intensely into her own. “Do you, Camilla? Or do you simply want the pleasure that you know I can give you?”

      “I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling. “The kind of pleasure you can give me, I mean. I don’t know anything about it at all. But I knew the minute that I saw you that there was something about you. Something about you that called to something in me. I just knew that you changed something inside me. And I wanted so badly for that not to be true. I wanted so badly to want nothing more than to simply be there with the horses. To simply gain back what the family lost. It was all I was supposed to do. All I was supposed to care about. And then there was you. There was you and this need inside me. And it wasn’t there before. So yes, Matías, I want you.”

      She felt incredibly vulnerable, more naked than she had a moment ago. Even with his hand between her legs, she had not felt this vulnerable. But now she had admitted that. That her desire had appeared, manifested itself in her life at the same time that he had exposed a level she had not known possible. And yet, it also felt worth it. It also felt real.

      So much deeper, so much stronger, than any other relationship she’d had. Than that nonexistent one with her mother as long as she could be a cute accessory, and then thereafter had ceased to exist. And even to her father, who had loved her, but who had also molded her into the image of what he had wanted. A companion to stay with him on the rancho. A daughter who behaved more like a son. This thing with Matías was like none of that. It was stripped bare of any artifice. Of any kind of calculation or manipulation. It was simply about the two of them. And about desire.

      She ignored the tightening around her heart, focused on the need in her stomach. Because that was simpler. She could still make that about him. That heaviness gathering between her thighs. She could still make it about him and be safe. But anything in her chest. No. She couldn’t risk that.

      “Tell me you want me,” he said, moving his fingers up slightly, squeezing that sensitive bundle of nerves again, before sliding them back down, not allowing himself to delve into her crease, not allowing himself to touch where she ached for him the most.

      She bucked her hips, trying to force his touch to become yet more intimate.

      He chuckled, his hold remaining fast. “Be a good girl,” he said. “And tell me that you want me.” He leaned in, his lips nearly touching hers. “When you wish to break a horse, you must first show it who its master is. And I think you will find that I am the master of your body, mi amor.”

      She shivered, trying to muster up some kind of rage at that statement. Wanting to tell him that she was the master of her own body, of her own future. Wanting to tell him that he could not play such games with her.

      But instead, only a whimper came out of her lips, and she bucked her hips even more intently, desperate now. For more. For his touch. For his possession, whatever that might mean.

      “Patience,” he said. Then he nipped her bottom lip before kissing her deep, hard, and shifting his hand so that his thumb was pressed up against her, one finger plunging deep inside her.

      She gasped. The invasion was both welcome and unfamiliar, and it took a moment for her body to acclimate. But then...she wanted more. Oh, how she wanted more. She wanted all of him. Every last bit. Every hard, breathless inch.

      “Matías,” she said, the words coming out choked, desperate.

      But she had already purposed that there would be no place for pride here. Had already committed herself to honesty. And as he worked his finger in and out of her desperate body, as he slid his thumb over and over her body, she gave herself up to it. To him. Surrendered herself completely, pleasure finding her this time on a short, sharp scream. Her body pulsed around his finger, her release like a storm, no less powerful for the fact that she’d had her first one only moments before in his living room.

      She had surrendered her pride to him. And she did not regret it. But she did want something in return. On trembling limbs she rose up to her knees and pushed her panties down her thighs, stripping them off and throwing them off the edge of the bed, so that she was completely naked before him. There really was no point in being shy when she’d come apart in his arms twice, not when he had already had his fingers buried inside her.

      She pushed lightly at his shoulder, and he went down on his back, not resisting her touch. Then she bent down, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder, to his chest, to that place where his heart raged beneath that solid wall of muscle. Then she kissed his stomach, that hard, ridged abdomen that made her body weak with need. She paused, appraising the bulge in his pants. That was uncharted territory. But she would never be able to reclaim anything if she lost her boldness now.