Rumours: The Dishonoured Copelands: The Fallen Greek Bride (The Disgraced Copelands) / His Defiant Desert Queen (The Disgraced Copelands) / Her Sinful Secret (The Disgraced Copelands). Jane Porter
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critically, examining her as if he owned her, and he did … at least for a few more weeks.
“Undress,” he said roughly, feeling raw and so very carnal, and liking it. Enjoying it. “I want to see my wife. It doesn’t seem like too much to ask for, not after giving you seven million dollars.”
One of her eyebrows lifted. “At least you didn’t mention the four hundred million.”
“That was to your father, not to you.”
“I wonder what he had to do for four hundred million.”
“You think I should have asked for some sexual favors, do you?”
“You like sex a lot.”
“I liked it with you a lot.” He suddenly reached down, palmed his erection through his trousers, and he saw her gaze settle on his shaft, measuring the length and size.
Dark pink color stormed her cheeks and she licked her lower lip, once and again, before finding her voice. “That’s obscene,” she whispered.
“You did it a moment ago.”
“You made me.”
“You liked it. But you’ll tell me you didn’t. You’ll tell me sex is disgusting. You’ll tell me I’m disgusting, but if I touched you now, my woman, you’d be dripping wet—”
“Disgusting.”
“And I’d open you and lick you and taste you and make you come.” His head cocked and he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “When is the last time you came? How long has it been since you had an orgasm? A day? A week? A month?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I did it in the shower yesterday, before you arrived. Stroked myself as I thought about you, picturing your breasts and your pale thighs and how much I enjoy being between them.”
“Is there any point to this, Drakon? Or do you just wish to humiliate me?”
“Humiliate you, how? By telling you how much I want you, even now, even after you walked out on me?”
“But you don’t want me, you just want to have sex with me.”
“That’s right. You don’t believe you’re attached to your body, or that your body is part of you. Instead it’s a separate entity, which makes me think of a headless chicken—”
“Don’t be rude.”
“Then stop jumping to conclusions. Just because I like your body, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the rest of you.”
“Humph!”
His eyebrows shot up, his expression mocking. “Is that the best you can do?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her chin jerking up. “I get nowhere arguing with you.”
“Very wise. Much better to just dispense with the clothing and let me have what I want.” He paused, and his gaze moved slowly, suggestively over her. “And what I know you want, too. Not that you’ll admit it.”
Her chin lifted another notch. “And what do I want?”
“Satisfying sex without pushing the limits too far.”
Dark pink color stormed her cheeks. “Without pushing the limits at all.”
The corners of his mouth curled. So she did want sex. Just nice-girl sex … sweet, safe missionary-position sex. His cock throbbed at the thought. He’d like some sweet, safe-missionary sex as well. “I’ll see what I can do. But first, I’d like to see you. But I’m getting bored by all the discussion. Either we’re going to do this, or we’re not—”
“Your shirt first.”
“Excuse me?”
“You want to do this? Then we’ll do this. But you’re not the boss and I’m not taking orders.” Her tone was defiant and her eyes flashed and she’d never been angry before when they’d played these games. She’d been shy and nervous, but also eager to please. She wasn’t eager to please now. “You don’t get to have all the power anymore.”
“No?”
“No. I’m not your servant or slave—”
“Which is good, since I don’t make love with my servants, and I don’t have slaves.”
“The point is, you might be able to bark orders at Bronwyn, but not at me.”
“I had no idea you were so hung up on Bronwyn,” he drawled, liking this new feisty Morgan. She was a very different woman from the one he’d married and that intrigued him.
“I wasn’t hung up on her. You were.”
“Is that how it was?”
“Yes.”
“So are we going to talk about Bronwyn, or are we going to have sweet, safe missionary-position sex?”
Her lips compressed primly. “You’re horrible. You know that, don’t you?”
“Horribly good, and horribly hard, and horribly impatient. Now, are we, or aren’t we?” he asked, sauntering toward her, relaxed, easy, his arms loose at his sides. But it was a deceptive ease, and they both knew it as the temperature in the luxurious bedroom seemed to soar and the air sparked with heat and need, the tension between them thick and hot and electric.
Closing the gap between them, Drakon could feel Morgan tense, her hands squeezing in convulsive fists, even as her eyes widened and her lips parted with each quick shallow breath.
“You’re trembling,” he said, “but there’s no need for that. I won’t eat you. Not unless you want me to.”
“Drakon.” Her voice sounded strangled and her cheeks were crimson, making her blue eyes darken and shimmer like the sapphire sea beyond the window.
“I hope you’ll want me to. I love how you taste, and how soft you are in my mouth … so sweet. But is that too risky for you? Pushing the limits too much?”
“You love to torment me.”
“Yes, I do,” he agreed, circling her slowly, enjoying just looking at her, and watching the color come and go in her exquisite porcelain complexion, and listening to her soft desperate gasps of air. “But this is nothing, Morgan. I haven’t even gotten started.” He stopped in front of her, gazed down at her, thinking she looked very young and very uncertain and very shy, much like his virgin bride. “Now tell me, what should I do to you first?”
Morgan’s heart was pounding so fast she couldn’t catch her breath, and she opened her mouth, lips parting, to gulp in shallow gasps of air. She felt as if she were balancing on the edge of a volcano while little voices inside her head demanded she throw herself in.
She needed to leave, to escape the villa, to summon the helicopter and fly far, far away. Remaining here with Drakon was stupid and destructive. She might as well fling herself into that volcano … the outcome would be the same.
And yet, wasn’t she already there, in the fiery pit? Because molten lava seemed to be seeping through her veins, melting her bones and muscles into mindless puddles of want and need.
She actually felt sick with need right now. But could she do this … go through with this … knowing it would be just sex, not love? Knowing Drakon wanted her body but not her heart?
“Are you crying?” he asked, his voice dropping, deepening with concern, as his hands wrapped around her arms, holding her up.
She shook her head, unable to look him in the eye.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She swallowed hard, tried to speak, but no sound would come out. Not when her throat ached and her heart was still thundering in her chest.
He