Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded. Kate Hardy
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sighed. ‘Because … Look, there’s an easier way.’ He walked back over towards her, slid his arms round her and kissed her—sensual, demanding, and it actually made her knees weak. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this turned on by just a kiss.
‘Whatever’s put that look in your eyes, hold that thought,’ he said, his voice huskier and deeper than usual.
He left the room and she could hear him moving things in her living room. He returned a few moments later with the pillar candle she kept on her mantelpiece, placed it on the bedside table next to the lamp, lit the candle and then switched off the lamp.
‘Better,’ he said in approval.
Then he sat on the bed and patted the space next to him. ‘Come here,’ he said, his voice soft.
‘Alex, I …’ How could she tell him she was scared she’d disappoint him? That she was out of practice? That no way would she match up to the leggy stick insects he normally dated?
In the end, she didn’t have to, because he took her hand and tugged her towards him, then scooped her onto his lap. ‘It’s going to be OK, Bel. And you don’t have to be shy with me. I’ve seen you naked before.’
She stared at him in surprise. ‘Since when?’
‘When you were about … oh, I dunno. Two? It was a really hot summer that year and we almost always had the paddling pool out. You and Saskia used to splash about all afternoon.’ He laughed. ‘Mum’s probably got a photo somewhere.’
When she was two? She rolled her eyes. ‘That doesn’t count.’ But she found herself laughing, relaxing.
‘That’s better,’ he said softly. ‘Stop worrying. This is going to be fine.’
And if she were honest with herself, it was something that had been simmering between them for years. Unfinished business. An attraction she’d never admitted to because she’d been so sure Alex didn’t think of her in that way … but he’d brought it up himself a few days ago. Told her that he saw her as a woman.
Maybe—just maybe—this was what they both needed.
To get it out of the way and go back to being sensible.
Though there was still a problem. She took a deep breath. ‘Alex, I haven’t done this for a while.’
‘Good.’
‘Good?’ Now that was a reaction she hadn’t expected.
He smiled, and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip. ‘Very good, in fact. Because it means I get to remind you what pleasure’s all about.’
When her lips parted involuntarily, he dipped his head again to kiss her; by the time he broke the kiss, her head was spinning. He slid his hands under her T-shirt, stroking her abdomen with the tips of his fingers. ‘Your skin’s so soft.’ He nuzzled the curve of her neck. ‘You smell of orange blossom. I want to touch you, Bel. I want to look at you.’ Gently, he tugged at the hem of her T-shirt and she let him pull the material over her head.
He sucked in a breath. ‘You’re beautiful. How come it’s taken me all these years to notice?’
‘Because you’ve dated a string of women who were practically models?’ she suggested.
He gave her a mock-affronted look. ‘Isobel Martin, are you calling me shallow?’
‘Yup.’
He grinned. ‘Better hope I have hidden depths, then.’
He traced the lacy edge of her bra with the tip of one finger. The light touch made her quiver, and her nipples were tightening again.
Although he didn’t make a comment, he’d clearly noticed, and rubbed the pad of his thumb across them; the friction of her lacy bra against her sensitive skin sent a thrill through her.
‘You’re still fully clothed,’ she said.
‘Do something about it, then,’ he invited.
She undid the buttons of his shirt to reveal a broad, muscular chest, olive skin and dark hair. Such perfect musculature. She ran her fingertips over his hard pectoral muscles, his ribcage. And when she looked him straight in the eye, she could barely see his irises, his pupils were so huge. Meaning that he was as turned on by this mutual exploration as she was.
He slid the straps of her bra down, then kissed her bare shoulders; Isobel felt a sharp kick of excitement in her stomach. His mouth drifted along to the curve of her neck; when she closed her eyes and tipped her head to one side, he began a trail of tiny, nibbling kisses all the way along the sensitive cord at the side of her neck. His lips were warm and sure and incredibly sexy, and he was finding erogenous zones she hadn’t even known existed. Isobel shivered when he lingered in the sensitive spot behind her ear and her mouth parted involuntarily.
Then she became aware of the lacy fabric of her bra falling away from her skin; he’d unfastened it with one hand, so deftly she hadn’t even realised what he was doing. And now her breasts were spilling into his hands; he cupped them, lifting them slightly, teasing her nipples with his thumb and forefinger and making her quiver with arousal. From the hard pressure through his jeans against her thigh, she knew that he was just as turned on.
‘I love having you sitting on my lap,’ he whispered, ‘but it isn’t enough for me, Bel. I need more. Now. I need to touch you. Taste you.’
She needed it, too. ‘Yes.’
Gently, he shifted her off his lap and lay her back against the pillows. Kneeling between her parted thighs, he dipped his head, took one nipple into his mouth and sucked.
Oh, Lord.
So many sensations at once.
The soft silkiness of his hair against her skin, contrasting with the beginnings of spiky stubble on his face. The movement of his tongue and lips. The warmth of his mouth. The pressure of the suction. The tingling that started in her nipples and seemed to flood through every nerve-end.
‘Oh, yes, Alex,’ she whispered, arching her back against the softness of the duvet. She slid her hands into his hair, wanting more.
He lifted his head a fraction and looked up at her, his eyes dark in the candlelight. ‘Do you like that?’
‘Yes.’ The word came out slurred with pleasure.
‘Good. So do I.’ He paid attention to her other nipple, teasing it with his teeth and his tongue until she was wriggling, then slowly kissed his way down her abdomen. ‘I wish you were wearing a skirt.’
‘Why?’
‘Because these are in the way.’ He stroked his hands down the denim of her jeans, then slid one hand between her thighs, cupping her sex through her jeans. ‘If you were wearing a skirt I’d be closer than this.’ He rubbed one finger along the seam of her jeans, pressing against her clitoris. ‘Much closer.’
And right now she needed him much closer. She shivered. ‘Alex. You’re driving me crazy.’
‘That’s the idea.’ He shifted back onto his haunches, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on hers as he undid the top button of her jeans.
They were getting nearer and nearer the point of no return.
Slowly, slowly, he lowered the zip. The air felt cool against her heated skin, and she shivered.
‘Cold?’
‘And hot,’ she admitted.
‘Good.’ He leaned forward and kissed the skin he’d just uncovered. ‘And you’re going to get hotter still by the time I’ve finished with you.’
And wet.
God, she was wet. So ready for him.
Gently, he encouraged her to lift her buttocks, and pulled her jeans down over