The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит
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He still wasn’t touching her, still had his hands behind his head, as she had her fists clenched at her sides.
But the heat between them was indescribable all the more so because of the tantalising promise of fulfilment that lay ahead.
She let him taste her until she could stand it no longer, until her breathing was so fractured that she wanted to scream. She could move against his mouth but there was no way she was going to come again, not like this...
She worked her way down him until she was the one tasting him. The solid steel of his erection fascinated her. She took it into her mouth, sucked on the tip, played with it with her hands, tasted it and loved the way it tasted.
She explored his hard six-pack with the flat of her hand as she sucked, enjoying the hard, abrasive rub of muscle and sinew under her palm.
‘Okay.’ Javier rose onto his elbows to tangle his hand in her tumbling hair. ‘Enough. My blood pressure can’t take any more.’
Sophie glanced at him from under her lashes.
‘You’re a witch,’ he breathed huskily. ‘Come here and kiss me.’
Their kiss was a mingling of scents and Sophie lost herself in it. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. She wanted to be needy, clingy and demanding, and all those awful things that would have him running for the hills without a backwards glance.
She wanted to be open and honest, tell him how she felt and declare her love for him, and the fact that there was no way that she could do that felt like an impossible weight on her shoulders.
She sighed, rolling as he propelled her gently onto her back. Balancing over her, he looked at her seriously.
‘Still nervous?’
‘A little,’ she admitted. She could have admitted a lot more. She could have admitted that what really made her nervous was the prospect of what happened when this glorious night was over and they both returned to their own little worlds. There was no way she would duck away from this but the aftermath still made her nervous.
She didn’t think he would like to hear about that.
‘Don’t be,’ he murmured. ‘Trust me.’
He nudged her with the tip of his erection, felt her wetness and gently, slowly eased himself in.
She was beautifully tight. Would he have guessed that she had never made love before? Probably. She would have winced, given her inexperience away. That said, he was pleased that she had thought to confide in him and more than pleased that he was going to be her first lover.
Whatever feelings still lingered for the creep who had married her for all the wrong reasons, he would be the man who would be imprinted in her head for the rest of her life. Not her ex-husband. When she lay in bed, the loser she still refused to hold in contempt would no longer dominate her thoughts. No. Instead, he would be in her head now, and the memory of this first night spent together.
Sophie inhaled and tensed but she was already so turned on that the tension quickly evaporated. Nor did she want him treating her like a piece of china that could shatter into a thousand pieces if he happened to be just a little too rough.
She wanted him to thrust long and deep into her. She wanted his urgency.
‘Move faster...’ she moaned.
It was all the invitation Javier needed. He was unbelievably aroused. Holding on had required a superhuman feat of willpower because having her touch him had driven him wild.
He began moving with expert assurance, felt her wince as he drove deeper, then gradually relax as he picked up pace until their bodies were moving in harmony, as sweet as the coming together of the chords of a song.
Still, he refused to satisfy himself at her expense, waiting until her rhythm was inexorably building and he could feel her fingers dig into the small of his back and knew that she had raised her legs, wrapped them around his waist, all the better to receive him...
Sophie came, spinning off to a different world where nothing existed but her body and its powerful, shattering responses. She was distantly aware of Javier arching up, his whole body tensing as he reached orgasm.
Apart yet inextricably joined. She had never felt closer to anyone in her entire life. And it wasn’t just because of the sex. Somewhere in the core of her she knew that it was what it was because of what she felt. She couldn’t disentangle her emotions from her responses. The two were inextricably linked.
Not good. Yet so right. She couldn’t imagine feeling anything like this for anyone else, ever, and that scared her because when this was over she would have no choice but to pick up the pieces and move on. She would have to put him behind her and one day find herself a partner because she couldn’t envisage spending the rest of her life on her own.
She was lying in the crook of his arm, both of them staring upwards. His breathing was thick and uneven and with a little chuckle he swung her onto her side so that they were now facing one another, their bodies pressed together.
Somewhere along the line he had disposed of the condom. He was a very generously built man, however, and even with his erection temporarily subsided she was still aware of his thick length against her, stirring her, although she was aching a little and as tired as if she had run a marathon at full tilt.
She wondered what the protocol was for a one-night stand. She couldn’t leap out of bed, stroll to get her clothes and head for the door, having thanked him for a good time, because it was her house. Which meant that she would have to rely on him to make the first move, and that made her feel a little awkward, because she didn’t want him to imagine that she was hanging around, waiting for an encore.
She was afraid to carry on being intimate, in these most intimate of circumstances, because she didn’t want him to guess the depth of her feelings for him.
She wanted to maintain her dignity. It wasn’t just a case of self-preservation, but on a more realistic level: he now had a slice of the family company. He might decide to take a back seat now that they had made love and completion had been established, might disappear never to be seen again, but on the small chance that she bumped into him at some point in the future the last thing she needed was for him to know her feelings. If she bumped into him, she wanted him to think that she had been as detached from the whole experience, on an emotional level, as he had been. She wanted to be able to have a conversation with him, with her head held high, and preferably with a man on her arm.
‘So,’ Javier drawled, breaking the silence and stroking her hair away from her face.
‘So...’ Sophie cleared her throat and offered him a bright smile. ‘That was very nice.’
Javier burst out laughing. ‘That’s a first,’ he informed her wryly. ‘I’ve never had a woman tell me afterwards that the sex was “very nice”.’
Sophie didn’t want to think about the women he had bedded or what sexy little conversations they had had post–making love.
‘You don’t have to tell me that.’ She was going to keep it light, brace herself for when he levered himself out of bed and began getting dressed. She didn’t think he’d be spending the night.
‘No?’
‘I already have a picture in my head of the sort of women you, er, entertain and I guess they’d be busy telling you how great you were and offering to do whatever you wanted...’
‘Did you think I was great?’
Sophie blushed a vibrant red.
‘Is that a yes...?’ He nuzzled her neck and then absently rested his hand between her legs.
‘What happens about the shoot?’
‘I don’t want to talk about the shoot.