His Love-Child: The Greek Tycoon's Love-Child / The Spaniard's Love-Child / The Millionaire's Love-Child. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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her mouth with his own.
For Willow it was like being struck by lightning. A fierce wave of heat flared from her breasts to her thighs, and she quaked with need. Her tongue duelled with his in a greedy passion she could not control. Did not want to.
She felt his hands running up and down the soft underside of her arms, his great body pressing into her. She was amazed that she had never known an arm could be an erotic zone, but she did now. Every inch of her body became an erotic zone where this man was concerned, she thought wonderingly as his tongue plunged inside her mouth again in intimation of the sexual act.
This was what her body had been craving for years, and all her doubts and guilty feelings were swept aside. She was lost in her own feverish response to the awesome sensations he evoked in her body, which had been for far too long sexually deprived. She strained up against him, and tried to pull her hands free; she desperately wanted to touch him, to explore him.
Theo reared up and looked down at her with hot, dark eyes. ‘Now it is my turn to look at you.’ He freed her hand, but only for an instant as he again enclosed both of hers in one of his. ‘I have dreamt of doing this for years,’ he grated and his hand slid around her throat. ‘Having you naked and hot beneath me, your glorious hair spread over the pillow.’ And slowly his hand traced down over her breast, rolling the rigid tip between his finger and thumb.
Arrows of delight shot through her, every cell in her body attuned to his touch. When his mouth replaced his fingers by suckling on each rigid nipple in turn she gasped in delirious pleasure.
‘You like that,’ he husked, his dark eyes molten pools of desire capturing hers.
‘Yes, oh, yes,’ she said on a moaning sigh of pure delight. ‘But, please…’ she tried to pull her hands free ‘… I want to touch you.’
He shook his dark head. ‘No, Willow. If you touch me it will be over in a flash,’ he declared throatily. He carefully inserted one long leg between her thighs and, leaning over her, he stroked slowly over the aching mound of one breast. Then slowly his hand moved down to the indentation of her waist and across her flat stomach, and inched lower to cup her sex and he stopped. His head lowered to once more claim her mouth, his tongue invading the moist interior with a passionate, possessive intensity that had her writhing hotly beneath him and instinctively parting her legs wider, burning for his intimate touch.
‘I want to watch you,’ Theo rasped. His lips trailed down her throat to her achingly aroused nipples, and he teased them with his teeth and tongue. He lifted his head. ‘I want to see the passion in your incredible eyes.’ His black glance seared into hers as he slipped a long finger between her trembling thighs and found the velvet fold of flesh and the centre of her pleasure, hot and wet and waiting for him.
Willow closed her eyes, a low moan escaping her as he caressed her with delicate strokes, slowly driving her wild. She shuddered with the force of her need, a want so achingly exquisite it was almost pain, and she cried out his name.
‘Yes,’ Theo grated. ‘Say my name, Willow,’ and he touchèd the tip of his tongue to each pert breast. ‘I’m going to give you more pleasure than your wildest fantasies, until you can think of no other man but me, and I am going to enjoy every second.’
Willow might have been threatened by his words but she had given her body over to this powerful man. Her back arched off the bed. ‘Please, Theo.’ She pressed up into his hand, and felt his great body shake. He was as aroused as she was, his bronzed skin damp with sweat and his breathing ragged. Suddenly her hands were free, and wildly she reached for him, her fingers raking down his broad back as he moved between her thighs. Her head fell back and she stared up into his hard face with dazzling, hungry eyes.
A spasm of raw emotion flashed across his taut, dark features. ‘God… I have to have you,’ he growled. ‘I can’t wait.’
Willow didn’t want him to, and with a wantonness she had never known she bit down on his chest, her teeth grazing a hard, masculine nipple, her tongue licking the salt from his skin, and her hand reaching down to touch him—take him. She was oblivious to everything but the scent, the taste and the tremendous burning, quivering hunger she felt for him. Theo knocked her hand away and, gripping her hips, he lifted her, and with the first fierce thrust of his manhood deep into her hot, tight body Willow cried out, her long legs wrapping around his waist.
He stilled for a moment and she looked at him with fevered pleading blue eyes, her inner muscles clenching around him poised on the agonising brink of orgasm. His face was a rigid mask of pure tension.
‘Are you burning now, Willow?’
She didn’t answer him, didn’t need to as, with a primitive instinct as old as time, she dug her nails into his satin-smooth skin and gave a wickedly wanton upward thrust of her hips. His control snapped, and he plunged hard and deep with a driving intensity that tipped Willow over the edge in a tumultuous release. She clung to him as wave after wave of incredible sensations hit her and she cried out his name. Then the world fell away as his great body also shuddered violently in the awesome pleasure of his own climax.
For a long moment they lay joined together, Theo with his face buried in the curve of her throat and shoulder, and the only sound in the room their ragged breathing. Willow, still trembling in the aftermath, realised she was clinging to him. What had she done? a tiny voice of conscience queried in her bemused brain. But she had no time to ponder this question as incredibly she felt Theo growing again inside her and they did it all over again…
This time more slowly, silently. A mutual exploration of the senses, where time had no meaning. All that mattered was the two sweat-slicked bodies gliding together, moving over and under with exploring hands and mouths, and ever-increasing passion until they blended again into one mutual, heart-stopping climax.
A long time later Theo lifted up on his elbow, and stared down at her. Damn it! How did this dark-haired witch do it to him? She infuriated and inflamed him into the rashest of actions. He had not meant to lose control, but he had… so much so that no thought of protection had entered his head.
His jet-black eyes roamed over her flushed face, and he reached out a hand and brushed some stray tendrils of her raven hair back from her cheek. Her love-swollen lips parted in a beautiful smile and she looked almost innocent as his gaze moved down the long, slender length of her body.
He must be going weak in the head… There was nothing innocent about her. He could still feel the effect of her incredible long legs wrapped around him. He had thought she was sex on legs the very first time he had seen her, and she had been everything he remembered and much more. She was a perfect fit for him, she was fire and light in his arms, and he grimaced. Willow was an incredibly sensuous woman, she couldn’t help herself, and he suddenly wondered how many other men there had been in the past nine years.
He jerked up into a sitting position, not liking where his thoughts were taking him. It was enough for him that he had her now. ‘We will marry before the end of the week,’ he grated, and leapt off the bed to stand frowning down at her. ‘We will tell everyone in the morning, a small civil ceremony—’
‘Wait a minute,’ Willow cut in, shock cutting through the euphoria of the past hour. She sat up and hastily pulled the cotton sheet over her breasts, suddenly embarrassingly aware of her nakedness. Not that Theo seemed to be bothered, she thought as he stood towering over her apparently totally at ease with his nudity. ‘I never agreed to marry you, Theo.’
Theo did not even attempt to argue the point. He did not need to. He never missed a chance to turn a mistake into a success in the business world, and he instantly grasped the opportunity to do the same now in his private life.
‘You don’t have a choice any more, Willow.’ His black eyes, a gleam of mocking triumph visible in their inky depths, clashed with her stunned blue. ‘One illegitimate child is enough for any family, and as you may have been aware we did not use any protection,’ he emphasised in a deep cynical drawl. ‘You have no chance of getting the morning-after pill here so, unless you are already on the pill…?’ He let the words hang in the air, not needing to say any