Chapter Nine #2
Lifting his other hand while keeping a firm grasp on her arm, he threaded his fingers through the loose waves of her hair, enjoying her vicious shudder of reaction.
Her eyes widened, arousal dilating her pupils to black.
He cradled her head, caressing her scalp as she leaned into his touch, her breathing becoming thready, her expression no longer wary but full of need.
‘It’s my bedroom, Freya, remember,’ he murmured, leaning closer. He inhaled her scent as she let out an unsteady breath. Roses infused with the delicate musk of her, the same scent that had driven him wild once before.
‘Now tell me to leave, if you don’t want me to kiss you…’ he demanded.
Freya had woken groggy and confused, the vague echoes of an old nightmare disappearing into the shadows of sleep. But as Theo’s face came into focus, his expression in the half-light—part concern, part need—yanked away the hazy dreams of her mother…
Had he said he wished to kiss her?
The prospect was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. He pressed his lips to the pounding pulse point on her neck, licked the sensitive skin. Another vicious shudder raked her overwrought body.
She wanted this, she wanted him. She was tired of waiting, tired of not knowing. And she knew, whatever else he was, he was an accomplished lover. He’d already proved as much three months ago.
‘Give me your answer, Freya.’ The edgy tone, so deep, so husky, lacked his usual control. Her confidence soared. She lifted heavy arms and pressed trembling hands to his cheeks. The rough stubble abraded her palms.
His gaze met hers, the need making the turquoise glitter like diamonds.
‘Yes, kiss me. I want you to kiss me,’ she whispered. ‘I want you to make love to me…’ she added, excited more by the demand in her own voice.
This was her choice, and she was owning it.
The words had barely left her lips before his mouth covered hers. Their tongues tangled, and danced, in a battle of submission and domination as he took control of the kiss.
Her excitement rose as she draped her arms around his neck. One large palm found her bared breast beneath the T-shirt she’d donned before climbing into the bed.
His lips devoured hers as he circled her nipple. His need was as furious and frantic as her own, increasing the sense of rightness, of wildness.
When they broke apart, their ragged breathing sounded deafening in the cabin over the hum of aircraft noise.
He cradled her cheek. ‘Are you sure, Freya? Because once we start this, it would kill me to stop again.’
She nodded, despite the panicked question that leapt into her head unbidden.
Should I tell him he’s my first?
But as soon as the thought had occurred to her—that there might be an etiquette to such information—her desire-addled mind worked overtime to dismiss the urge to overshare her sexual history or, rather, her total lack of one.
She didn’t want him to stop. And he might if he discovered she had no clue what she was doing.
And anyway, why was it even his business?
He’d probably slept with virgins before, given his well-documented track record with women.
No doubt he wouldn’t care. Perhaps he wouldn’t even know?
It wasn’t as if he had radar down there.
He pressed his forehead to hers, his thumb playing lazily with her nipple, making sensation dart into her already swollen sex.
‘Thank God,’ he murmured. ‘Tell me,’ he added, ‘how you like to be touched.’
I don’t know…
The answer echoed in her head, but she bit into her tongue to stop herself from blurting it out.
She scraped her fingernails across his nape, enjoying his delicious shudder of response.
Then whispered against his lips. ‘Are you telling me you need instructions on how to seduce a woman, Theo?’ she countered, determined to sound sophisticated. Jaded even. And not clueless.
His dark brows lowered a fraction—and she congratulated herself on managing to surprise him. Again. But then a slow, sensual smile curved those beautiful lips into a devastatingly sexy grin.
‘That’s a challenge I can’t resist,’ he said, making her laugh. But then she gasped as he edged the oversized T-shirt down to capture her throbbing nipple between his lips.
She clasped his head, bowing back, desperate to get more of the delicious suction.
The darts of sensation—from her breasts to her sex—became arrows, swift and strong and relentless.
He suckled on one nipple then the other, drawing the aching tip to the roof of his mouth, then eased back to blow on the damp skin.
‘Please don’t stop,’ she begged.
His fierce gaze returned to her face. The amusement was gone, his eyes blazing with an intensity that only excited her more.
He lifted the T-shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but her panties.
‘Lie back,’ he demanded, his gaze roaming over her and making every pulse point pound in unison.
She did as he asked, unable to stop herself from clasping an arm over her aching breasts, already so tender from his attention.
He took her arm to lift it clear. ‘Don’t cover yourself, Freya. I want to look my fill.’
She should have been embarrassed. No man had ever seen her naked before, but somehow she found the courage to let him look, his gaze raising goosebumps on her oversensitive skin.
‘Why am I the only one naked?’ she asked.
He glanced up, and laughed, the sound husky, but also tortured. She liked that, very much.
‘Fair point,’ he murmured, his voice as rusty as her own.
Pushing off the bed, he stood and unbuttoned a couple of shirt buttons, ripped it from the suit trousers, then seemed to lose patience, and grasped the back to tug the shirt over his head.
She bit into her cheek to stop the gasp of shocked arousal, to control the hum of need.
Her gaze coasted over him. His chest was quite simply magnificent.
Dark hair decorated bulging pecs, to trail into a thin line through the muscles of his six-pack.
His hip flexors stood out in a V, drawing her gaze down.
In the dawn light streaming through the windows, she noticed several tattoos, the nicks and cuts and marks of a man who had not always led a charmed life.
Her heart pulsed with sympathy, and compassion.
How had he got so many scars? How could they seem as much a part of him as the cynicism, the arrogance, the charm?
He shoved his trousers down, taking his underwear with them. And there was no holding back the sob of shock this time.
His penis was long and hard, and fully erect, and much larger than she had expected. Not that she knew much about erect penises. But was that going to fit? And why did the thought of having all that inside her only make the throbbing excitement at her core increase tenfold?
She wanted to try. The clench and release of her muscles already preparing to take all of him.
‘Hey…’ He knelt on the bed and tucked a knuckle under her chin. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘N-nothing…’ she lied, knowing admitting the truth would be bad, now he’d noticed her hesitation.
Embarrassing much, Freya?
‘You sure?’ he asked, the concern shadowing his eyes somehow making the hot throbbing in her sex swell into her throat. ‘Because women usually look happier when they see me naked.’
The mention of the other women he’d slept with sobered her up enough to rediscover her snark. Thank goodness.
Play it cool, Freya, don’t let him see too much.
She shook off his hand and forced what she hoped was a seductive smile to her lips.
‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you, Caras, size doesn’t matter? Even when it comes to your enormous…’ she coughed out a strained laugh and let her gaze stray to his length resting against her thigh ‘…ego.’
He chuckled, the sound almost as raw as she felt.
‘Touche, Your Highness.’ His thumb drifted down from her chin, to caress her collarbone. Before his gaze locked on hers, all teasing gone. ‘I may have to make you pay for that…’
‘Please do,’ she said, not sure where the courage to flirt with this dangerous man had come from, but revelling in her new emboldened self when his eyes darkened.
He spread his hand across her belly, then delved beneath her panties to find the slick folds of her sex. Her breath ramped up as his unerring touch found the perfect spot. Then retreated almost instantly.
She moaned and tried to grasp his wrist. ‘Don’t…’
He only laughed again, but the rough chuckle died as he began to work her needy flesh.
She knew he was toying with her, but she didn’t care, because each touch, each stroke, each tantalising caress drew her closer to the edge.
Until she was bucking against his hand, desperate to find more.
Then he dipped his head and captured her nipple between his teeth.
The sharp tug had the sensations in her sex converging, the waves of pleasure rolling through her and bursting free.
She moaned, sobbed, riding the endless unstoppable crest when he found the heart of her at last.
He exploited his hold on her pleasure, until the waves ebbed—dropping her back to earth in a shimmering haze of heady bliss.
She let out a shuddering breath.
‘Damn, but you’re beautiful when you come,’ he murmured, his voice thick with yearning.
She opened her eyes, let her gaze drift down to the strident erection. The urge to feel it stretching her, making her his, seemed to come from nowhere, but had her reaching down to clasp him in an eager hand.
He moaned, then captured her wrist.
‘Not so fast, Freya. I won’t last if you touch me now.’ His voice was strained, making her confidence build again, and the desire to take all of him became too much to bear.
‘I want you inside me,’ she whispered, settling her hand on the taut skin of his abdomen, aware of the muscles quivering beneath her palm, the soft brush of him under her fingertips.