The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит
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Nikolai acknowledged thickly.
Her fingers slid over a bare tanned shoulder. His skin felt like satin and the physical heat he put out attracted her as potently as the sun on a cold day. She quivered, awesomely aware of the swelling fullness of her breasts and the prickling tightening of her nipples. She was in control, in full control of herself, yet when she looked at Nikolai it was hard to breathe or swallow because she was remembering what his mouth felt like on hers. And unlike Paul, Nikolai wanted her, she reminded herself with satisfaction. Beneath her thigh she could feel him primed and ready, something she had never felt with Paul. Paul hadn’t wanted her the way she’d wanted him but Nikolai did and couldn’t hide it. That knowledge clenched something deep down inside her and made her feel oddly giddy.
Her hand came up of its own volition and skated along the tempting fullness of his sensual lower lip. His eyes lit up like firecrackers when she met them boldly, wanting, craving, needing and for the very first time unashamed of her natural instincts.
‘Was that an invitation?’ Nikolai husked, a faint shudder racking his big, powerful frame because every atom of pent-up energy imprisoned inside him longed for release.
‘You need it gilt-edged and engraved?’ Ella teased, alight with her own daring, her own decision. He wanted her, she wanted him and it was normal and natural, she told herself firmly, even though somewhere deep down inside herself she was secretly shocked that she was the one taking the initiative.
‘Oh, no... I’m a much quicker study,’ Nikolai told her, sliding her down against the pillows and leaning down to trace her lush smiling mouth with his. In truth he wanted to flatten her to the bed and claim her body and soul like a Neanderthal. It took immense control to remember that she was innocent and deserving of the very best he could deliver.
The aggressive stroke of his tongue between her lips extracted a whimper of sound from the back of Ella’s throat. Her whole body pulsed with expectation. She wondered dimly when it had happened, when she had travelled from simply wanting him to the edge of an unbearable craving that she could no longer fight. And she didn’t care because there was no later or tomorrow or any kind of future in her thoughts, there was only this one special moment when she was finally making her choice and stepping out beyond the grief that had weighed her down for so long. His mouth crashed down on hers and she welcomed it, tipping her head back, parting her lips, all woman, all welcome. His passion enthralled her as much as the emotion he concealed as though it was something to be ashamed of.
‘I swear I could devour you,’ Nikolai swore against her swollen mouth.
He gazed down as her dreamy green eyes darkened to emerald, her bronze hair fanning round her head in a halo of vibrant colour. Cyrus had hurt and frightened her yet she still wanted Nikolai. It was a strangely humbling acknowledgement because he knew it meant that she trusted him. And yet he knew that he wasn’t worthy of her trust because he hadn’t told her what he had done. He crushed that train of thought to attend to the fact that she was still wearing far too many clothes.
Ella watched Nikolai yank off her jeans from the ankles and colour ran up over her chest as her serviceable black knickers were revealed. Nikolai tossed the jeans down and peeled her top off over her head, tumbling tresses falling back on her white shoulders above sweet little breasts cradled in lace cups. He could see her uncertainty, the nervous tension building as if she had no idea that his hands were shaking and that he was burning up for her, no idea at all that she was a rare and perfect beauty. He couldn’t take his eyes from her as he unclipped the bra and lifted his hands to explore the delicate little mounds he had bared.
‘Gorgeous...’ he said gruffly, the word torn from him because she looked as though one wrong word from him would send her into flight.
‘Seriously?’ she pressed, face hot with a heady combination of surprise, embarrassment and doubt.
‘Serious as a heart attack.’ A long tanned finger stroked a dainty swell crowned by a straining pink nipple and he bent his head to capture it with his mouth. ‘I like your breasts. I could even go as far as saying that I love your breasts,’ he framed, his warm breath fanning her skin as he blew on a straining pink bud.
‘But there’s nothing much there,’ she mumbled almost argumentatively because she had always felt that her lack of endowment in the bosom department was her biggest physical flaw. She was tiny and she was skinny and she didn’t have the curves so many men were said to prefer.
‘More than enough to satisfy me,’ Nikolai growled, long fingers curving to a ripe little mound, gently stroking the responsive flesh, smiling as her back arched, driving her breast into his palm. ‘You’re delicious.’
Some of her tension ebbed. He wanted her, she reminded herself with growing assurance, and being wanted like that, complimented like that, suddenly seemed like the most wonderful thing in the world. He was accepting her, flaws and all, and in the same way she would accept him, she promised herself. She wasn’t going in expecting perfection and eternal love.
The brush of his fingers against a prominent nipple made her hiss and her hips performed a little shimmy all on their own. Her body was warming up at its own pace, warmth gathering in her pelvis, tingles of reaction ensuring that she was fiercely aware of that part of her. He yanked off her knickers with scant ceremony, taking her by surprise. Her eyes flew wide, startled, apprehensive.
Nikolai smiled down at her. ‘It’s all right. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do...’
‘I want to do everything,’ she admitted shakily as he freed her from his weight and slid off the bed. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Condoms,’ he explained, striding into the bathroom. ‘There may not be any because I’ve never used the house...no, there’s nothing here.’
‘You don’t need to,’ Ella muttered, shaking her head. ‘I have a contraceptive implant in my arm.’
He frowned. ‘But why do you have that?’
‘When Paul and I were together, I thought...well, that I’d need contraception.’ Ella struggled to think back to that period when everything had been shiny and new and untested between her and Paul. As far as she recalled the implant would keep her safe from pregnancy for four years, but try as she did she could not remember exactly when she had had the implant put in.
‘I’ve never had sex without a condom and I’ve been tested... I’m clean,’ Nikolai assured her.
Ella was already thinking about something else. ‘A moment ago you said you’d never used this house. Never?’
‘Never,’ he repeated. ‘It didn’t feel like mine. The day I got the keys I walked over every inch of it and thought what a waste it was that I was never allowed to meet the old guy. There are all these ancient photos of people and I don’t know who they are and I never will know now because there’s nobody left to identify them. Yet some of them must be relatives.’
‘That’s sad,’ she agreed.
He didn’t know why he was talking to her like that because he had been on his own a long time and he liked it that way...didn’t he? Once his sister was gone, he had not had a single living relative that he knew of. Of course, he hadn’t looked, he acknowledged for the first time, and he was well aware that his grandfather had had sisters because they had contacted him. He had simply decided that it would be pointless at this stage in his life to take the connection any further. And why the hell was he even thinking about such a thing? What did Ella do to his wits? Why was he confiding in her when she lay naked and beautiful on a bed in front of him? What kind of black magic was that? He was talking about private things that he never ever shared. Thee mou, it had to be those soft, sympathetic eyes of hers working a dangerous spell.
‘I’ve never needed family,’ he told her flatly.
Ella was wondering if it would be pathetic to slide below the duvet to hide her naked body and she was stiff as a post while she lay there wondering, colour creeping up across her nudity in a mottled flush of awful self-consciousness. It was daylight and the drapes weren’t fully