One Passionate Night: His Bride for One Night / One Night at Parenga / His One-Night Mistress. Robyn Donald
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any of tonight. Not if she could help it.
‘In that case, I think we should adjourn to the bed.’
She swung round to face him. ‘But I don’t want to go to bed.’ As much as the bed out there looked incredibly romantic and erotic, bed had never been a place where sex for her had been all that successful. She liked being in this shower with him. It excited her. ‘I’d much prefer to stay here for a while.’
‘Actual sex in the shower is not always a good idea, Charlotte,’ he said. ‘Not unless…’ His black eyes glittered momentarily. But then he shook his head. ‘No. No, I don’t think so.’
‘But I want to,’ she insisted, her hands lifting to rest on his chest. ‘Tell me what to do. Show me.’
Show her.
Daniel groaned. Didn’t she know he was already close to the point of no return?
His male ego had been pleased with having made her come. But it demanded more. He wanted her to climax whilst he was making love to her. But that was unlikely if he proceeded at this stage. He’d come himself in no time and she’d be left in no man’s land.
But he was tempted. Cruelly tempted.
‘It’s too soon,’ he told her. ‘For you.’
‘But not for you,’ she returned, her eyes dropping to where he was still erect.
‘No,’ he said ruefully. ‘Not for me.’
He almost jumped out of his skin when she reached down and curled both her hands around him.
‘No, don’t,’ he warned her. But she was already caressing him, moving her soft hands up and down his aching shaft. When she moved a thumbpad over the velvety tip, he groaned.
‘Good?’ she whispered, an echo of what he’d asked her earlier.
‘Yes,’ he bit out.
He grimaced when she reached for the shower gel and poured some over him. Hell on earth!
Now her hands slid so easily up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
‘Charlotte,’ he choked out.
She looked up into his eyes. Hers were big and gleaming with a wild excitement. She was genuinely enjoying what she was doing, this realisation shattering what little was left of his control.
He still tried to stop himself. This was not what he intended. He’d been going to be the master here, and she the pupil. It was clear, however, that she was not as inexperienced as Brad had intimated, for she sure as hell had done this before.
‘Yes,’ she ground out with elation in her eyes when he started to tremble. ‘Yes…’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘HOW do you take your coffee?’ Charlotte asked, glancing over at Daniel.
He was sprawled out on one of the sofas, eating grapes, his upper torso bare, a bath sheet slung low around his hips.
Charlotte was wearing one of the hotel’s white towelling bathrobes. She’d spotted her overnight bag in the dressing room when she’d stripped off earlier, but hadn’t bothered to open it yet.
‘Black. One sugar,’ he replied.
‘I wish I had a rubber band,’ she muttered as she made them both coffee. ‘I’d like to get this hair out of my face.’ Still damp, her hair was a heavy mass of wayward waves that fell across one eye all the time. She pushed it back and tried to anchor it behind her ear, not altogether successfully.
‘Don’t be silly. Your hair looks great like that. Very sexy. Like you.’
Charlotte flushed. ‘You honestly think I’m sexy?’
‘Do you doubt me?’
‘I’m different from usual with you,’ she confessed as she carried over the two mugs and placed them down on the black-lacquered coffee-table. ‘I don’t make a habit of doing what I did in the shower. In fact, I’ve never done anything like that before.’
But she’d wanted to. That was the most shocking thing of all. She didn’t just feel sexier with him, she felt wicked. Lust had turned her from her usual reserved self into a vamp.
‘You are constantly surprising me, Charlotte,’ he said as he picked up his coffee mug, his eyes meeting hers over the rim.
Lord, but he had incredible eyes. His body wasn’t too bad, either.
Not too hard. Not too soft. Just right.
Like baby bear’s bed.
Charlotte smiled at this unlikely simile. There was nothing babyish about Daniel.
‘What’s so amusing?’ he asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t go all mysterious on me. I like it that you’re so honest and open.’
‘I was thinking what a great body you have,’ she confessed.
He actually looked surprised by her compliment.
‘It’s adequate enough. The person in this room with the really great body is you.’
She flushed. ‘Flatterer.’
‘Don’t be coy. You must know you look great in the buff.’
‘My bottom’s too big,’ she protested.
He laughed. ‘I don’t think too many men would agree. I certainly don’t. You have a delicious bottom. And beautiful breasts. And fabulous legs. Or so I recall,’ he added, a devilish smile playing around his mouth. ‘Why don’t you take off that robe so that I can see it all again, make sure I wasn’t mistaken?’
She froze, the mug at her lips. ‘Out here?’ she choked out, her heart stopping in its tracks.
OK, so the lighting was soft and romantic, but the curtains were wide open, and whilst it didn’t look as if anyone could see in, how could she be sure? There were lots of high-rise buildings down this end of town, and lots had lights on in the windows.
‘Why not out here?’
‘M…maybe when I finish this coffee,’ she stammered.
‘Now would be better. Then I could look at you whilst we drink.’
Her hands shook as she lowered the mug to the coffee-table. Did she dare? Had she become that wicked?
It seemed she had.
Her thighs trembled as she stood up, but a second glance over at the tinted window reassured her that no one could see anything at that distance.
The looped sash of her robe undid with the slightest of pulls, the sides falling apart. His eyes narrowed but he didn’t stop sipping his coffee. In fact, he leant right back against the sofa in an attitude of total relaxation.
Charlotte was far from relaxed. This was what it must feel like, she imagined, just before diving off one of those high boards.
She sucked in a deep breath, then shrugged the robe off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving her feeling more naked than she ever had in her life.
Not just her body but her very soul. Both were naked before him, this man who could make her do things and feel things that no man had before.
He put his mug down and just drank her in. Slowly.
‘Beautiful,’ was all he said, but it left her shaken.
Because she knew in that telling moment that she would do anything he asked her to do.
‘Why don’t you sit down and finish your coffee?’
His suggestion—delivered oh, so coolly—confirmed what Charlotte already suspected, which was that Daniel was far more sophisticated