Seduced into the Greek's World. Dani Collins
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don’t know what I’m doing. She tried to find the words, tried to make her throat work, but he touched a fingertip under her chin.
The brush was feathery and gentle. She hadn’t expected finesse, but honestly, a man didn’t rack up a conquest list like his by being a brute. He was showing her all his best moves, she reminded herself, but she still felt deliciously branded by his fingerprint. Lifting her gaze, she wound up fascinated by his mouth again, and it was coming closer...
Oh.
When had she even been kissed since having Zoey? Really kissed?
And so well?
He really knew what he was doing, persuading her with varying pressures and parted lips to follow him. Open. Let it deepen. Rock and soothe and moan involuntarily because it felt so good.
Seductive.
His arm hooked behind her and drew her into the hard wall of his chest. So good. And why? Why did the sheer hardness of him, the tension of strong muscles and flat breastbone and firm flesh, make her soften and weaken and melt into surrender?
So much strength harnessed and held in check for her.
He stroked his hands up and down her spine and she kept leaning closer and more fully, giving up more of herself until she was plastered to him, completely undone. Then he slid one hand down to clasp over her buttock and a heated zing of pleasure pierced deep in her belly, sending a flood of sexual awakening into her erogenous zones.
This was what she’d wanted. Sexual feelings. Womanly feelings. To be seduced so she wouldn’t have to think about right and wrong. Grateful to him for making this easy, she wound her arms around his neck and licked into his mouth, letting him know she was utterly receptive.
He grunted, hips jerking into her in a way that spoke of his excitement, which excited her in turn. With a bolder touch, he cupped her backside and found her breast, possessed it, stimulated her through the fabric of her dress so she wriggled against him with impatient desire.
They were breathing heavily, barely breaking to gasp before diving into another long kiss. She ran her hands over him, greedily taking her fill of his physique, not letting herself think about how to make this count. Rather, she steeped herself in the moment and savored every sensation, drinking in his heady scent, peppery and spicy, but musky and exciting at the same time. She bumped her thighs into his iron-hard ones, liking the sense he was undentable. Impervious.
Their tongues tangled and she groaned in sheer luxury, letting herself burn alive in the bonfire of desire building between them. His implacable strength seemed to overwhelm her for a moment, making her stumble, then she felt something against her bottom.
He lifted her, dress riding up at the same time, and sat her on the cold marble of the table by the door.
Before she could decide what she thought of that, he pushed her legs apart and stepped between them so they were eye to eye, mouth to mouth...
Kissing again. Deeply. Unreservedly.
The fine lace of her new Parisian panties snapped.
She gasped and closed her teeth on his bottom lip, waiting... There. He touched her, stroking lightly, just a tantalizing caress that made her flesh pulse for more. After a long, breathless moment he easily deepened his caress into her slippery folds.
Encouraging him with moans of pleasure, she inched forward and layered on openmouthed kisses, letting him know how good he was making her feel as he caressed her. Velvety waves of pleasure rolled outward from his touch, making her limbs weak and tingly, her core tight and eager.
With clumsy fingers, she undid his shirt buttons, wanting to taste his skin.
He took his hands off her long enough to yank his shirt open, revealing his muscled chest. Natalie couldn’t help but gasp and hook her heels against the backs of his thighs, urging him back into her space so she could splay her hands on him and take in all that burnished skin.
He resisted long enough to take something from his pocket, then he opened his pants. Despite how aroused and excited she was, a tiny niggle of nerves hit her as he revealed himself. They were doing this. Now. Here.
Jerking her gaze up from the condom he was applying to his very admirable erection, she looked into his face and saw a kind of blind passion that made her heart skip, as if a bucket of water had hit her, but it was hot enough to scald. He was as hungry as she was. Barely holding on to control. It was heady and exciting.
“Demitri,” she managed weakly.
“You’re incredible,” he muttered, hooking one arm behind her to draw her to the edge of the table. Then his gaze caught hers and something like panic edged into his. “You’re not with me?”
“No, I am. I want you. This. Now. Please.”
His breath flowed over her lips as he released it in an expulsion of jagged humor and relief. Firm pressure nudged at her opening and she closed her eyes, not wanting him to see how desperate she was right now. Aching with need.
He pushed with inexorable power into her. A smarting sting took her by surprise, making her catch her breath and set a hand on his shoulder.
Rearing back slightly, he said, “You’re not a virgin.”
“No!” Her gasping laugh came out as a papery husk. “It’s just been a long time. Please don’t stop. I really want this.”
He made a noise between frustration and despair as he covered her mouth, kissing her with hungry desire, trying to persuade her body into softness.
She enfolded him with her limbs, drawing him in, making the penetration happen despite the discomfort so they were locked tight, both pulsing in expectation. Yes. She’d needed so badly to be held tight against a warm body, a man’s hands caressing her as though she was treasure, his hardness filling her where she’d felt empty forever.
His head tipped back and he groaned at the ceiling. “You’re killing me.”
She smiled, easing her tight grip on him, but squeezing internally, signaling that she was ready. Needy. Scraping her nails against his sides, she bit his pecs, inciting him.
He drew in his breath as a fierce hiss, slitted eyes staring deeply into hers as he practically pulled her off the table and onto his firmly planted, hard body. Then he caged her with hard arms, one hand low enough on her tailbone to brace her on the edge of the table, the other hooked behind her knee, holding her open. From there it was primal, but so good. Basic he might be, but selfish he was not. Each thrust was possessive, controlled and deliberate. And he watched her the entire time, as though he was willing her to lose herself in their lovemaking.
She couldn’t hang on to control, not when the crashes of their hips sent detonations of joy splashing through her. Feverish and acutely sensitive, she felt everything from the friction of her silk slip to the damp sheen on his hot skin. He ducked his head to set his teeth against her neck. She knew a love bite would be bad, but she arched to make it easier for him to mark her. She’d never felt so glorious, so sexy or desired or alive.
They made love with lusty groans and fevered gasps as she greedily fought orgasm, loving the way he made her feel, filling her up and stroking his hand restlessly up her inner thigh, under her dress. Swearing gruffly against her cheek, he found her mouth with his own and her breast with his hand, pushing her bra cup up so he could pinch her nipple, seeming to shake with need as he quickened his pace and claimed her mouth as though she was his last meal.
“Now, Natalie,” he broke away to demand. “Now.”
His voice sent prickling sensations down her spine. The coiled sensation where he moved inside her deepened to a kind of tension she couldn’t resist. This was good, but the other side would be better. When he thrust deep and held himself there, held her tight to him, nudging her through the door of ecstasy right along with him, she gave herself up to it, clinging as though they were falling from an airplane into the sky.
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