Loves Choices. PENNY JORDAN
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dispensed with the fine silk, the moonlight revealing the hard contours of Alexei’s body to her as he thrust back the covers, propping himself up on one elbow to study her silvered curves in silence.
As he watched her Hope felt something happening inside her. It was the same sensation she had experienced during her dream, only this time the heat seemed to come from within herself, spreading languorously through her body, the alcohol relaxing her mind and undermining her defences, so that although she could register the slow movement of Alexei’s hand as it drifted over her body, it was with curiosity rather than tense panic. Her skin relayed the fact that the hardness of his palm and fingertips against her was pleasurable rather than painful, and her mind noted hazily that he was touching her rather as one might stroke a cat, and she felt the same urge to stretch and luxuriate beneath the slow caress.
If she closed her eyes the urge became even stronger, her senses oddly sharpened so that she was acutely aware of the differing textures of their skins. Her breath suddenly caught as Alexei’s hand reached her breasts, his palm cupping one gently until she felt weak with the surging sensation of her own flesh, the need to press herself into his hand, a tugging, aching sensation beginning somewhere deep inside her so intense that in ordinary circumstances it would have sent alarm signals racing to her brain. But now it only made her open her eyes in hazy surprise—not even the suddenly brilliant green of Alexei’s gaze alerting her to impending danger.
It was only when Alexei removed his hand and she glanced down and saw the unfamiliar burgeoning of her breasts, her nipples swollen and aching, that awareness finally pierced through her sleep and alcohol-induced haze, her mind shrinking in panic from the knowledge that she was exposing herself to Alexei like a … like a slave girl bent on teasing and arousing her master.
Instinctively, she knew that the languorous curves of her body were provocative, deliberately enticing the smooth brush of his hand against her, and the knowledge shocked her into panic, her body tensing, the fierce intensity of Alexei’s gaze shifting from her body to her face, his hands clamping on her shoulders forcing her back against the bed, stroking and soothing until panic gave way to a return of her earlier languor. This time it was very much against her will, her mind revolting against the weakness of her body, even while she admitted her inability to do anything about it.
By the time Alexei’s mouth touched the pulsing nerve at the base of her throat, her body was already a quivering mass of responsiveness. She should never have drunk all that wine, she thought weakly, subduing a small moan of pleasure as Alexei’s lips teased the smooth skin of her throat, tracing a line of tiny kisses from her ear to her lips. His breath was warm against her face as his tongue drew the shape of her mouth, his voice husky as he instructed her to part the lips she had tightened against him, teasing her with light kisses until she did so, her body’s involuntary response to the warm possession of his mouth making her tremble convulsively as he held her against him, deepening and intensifying the kiss until nothing else existed.
Vaguely, Hope was aware of Alexei’s hand resting at the top of her thigh, her lungs drawing in deep breaths of air, her body still trembling from the impact of his kiss. His teeth nibbled gently on her ear-lobe, waves of sensation exploding inside her as he explored the shape and curves of her ear, one hand holding her securely against him, the other …
She gasped and tensed, trying to pull away, trying to stop his hand from parting her legs, her small fists making no impression against the breadth of his shoulders, shock and outrage rapidly overtaken by sensations she tried to deny. Her eyes widened in stunned reaction, and she looked straight into Alexei’s face, hard-boned and watchful, something fierce and elemental glittering behind the impassive shadows in his eyes. The touch of his fingers made her writhe and gasp, hating him for touching her so intimately—what he was doing to her was worse, far worse than what he had done last night—and yet unable to prevent her body from responding almost deliriously to him.
‘Stop it. Stop it,’ she panted unsteadily, fingers curling into her palms as she tried to move away, but his free hand merely curled round her throat, tilting her head back until the pale skin was fully exposed. His lips moving lingeringly along it, his kisses punctuated with softly murmured sounds of pleasure, and a furious desperation was building up inside her. Barely aware of what she was doing, Hope uncurled her fingers from her palms, transferring them to Alexei’s shoulders, small whimpers of pleasure forced past her tightly-closed lips, her body abandoning her, seduced by Alexei’s touch, the aching urgency below her stomach increasing in time with the waves of sensation burning through her, her body trembling violently.
Gradually, the touch of Alexei’s hand became soothing rather than arousing, comforting her for the vague sensation of disappointment that somehow lingered, her mind too confused and bewildered by the reactions of her body to martial what was left of its defences. When Alexei’s mouth left her throat to explore the slope of her shoulder she was too exhausted to protest, too drained to even move when his hands cupped her breasts, his lips exploring their curves.
It wasn’t until she felt the rasp of his tongue against her nipple that Hope felt a resurgence of that earlier sensation, a tensing in the pit of her stomach, and then the slow uncoiling of tense muscles, the heady, liquid warmth that spread right through her urging her shamelessly to abandon herself both to the feeling and to the man arousing it.
She heard Alexei’s hoarse murmur of satisfaction as she stretched against him, but it was lost in her own sharp cry of pleasure as his mouth closed once again over her tautly erect nipple, his eyes closing and the moonlight revealing the dark surge of colour to his face as his body responded to the taste and feel of her, the ache inside her still unappeased when he eventually released her swollen flesh.
Hope shivered in rejection as she felt him move away, her mind telling her that what he was doing was wrong, but her body wantonly aching for closer contact with his maleness.
‘Hope, open your eyes.’
Unwilling, she did as she was bid, conscious of Alexei’s hands on her shoulders, his chest hard against the softness of hers.
‘I had no idea our wine would have such an effect on you, little one, or else I might have thought to give you some last night.’ There was humour in his eyes and something else too, that brought her to shivering awareness of where she was and what she was doing.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she stammered bitterly. ‘I hate you …I hate what you’ve done to me … I …’
‘You hate yourself for responding to me?’ he suggested dryly, shaking her gently. ‘Ma belle, that was almost inevitable. Your body is ready for maturity even if your mind is not. Beneath the conventions taught to you by the Sisters, you have a very sensual nature.’ He saw her colour, anger darkening her eyes, and laughed softly, ‘You don’t want to believe me, but I assure you it is true. Tonight, when I came home, you curled into my arms as naturally as though you had always slept there. It was all I could do not to wake you up there and then … Even now, while you are glowering at me, your body craves physical satisfaction, as does mine,’ he added softly, his eyes on her breasts as he held her a little away from him, Hope’s own eyes widening and hurriedly averting from the evidence of his physical arousal.
She tried to tense her body against him, and for a moment her muscles did lock in fear at the remembered pain of his possession, but other alien sensations spread through her as Alexei looked down at her, and when his body moved over hers, he parted her thighs easily, the weight of his body strangely pleasurable, reminding her of the sensation his fingers had induced earlier—an aching, wanting sensation building up inside her, her breathing ragged and unsteady as she felt him move against her and tensed herself for the expected pain.
‘Relax … there’s nothing to be frightened of.’ He seemed to be breathing the words into her, parting her closed lips with the tip of his tongue, coaxing her to relax and share the pleasure of his mouth against hers, his hand touching her as it had done before, bringing back the same sensation of pleasure, only this time increased to such a pitch that she ached for something more, for … As though she had spoken her need out loud, she felt the pulsating hardness of his body against her, within her, but this time without pain, this time bringing only wave after wave