Modern Romance November 2015 Books 1-4. Trish Morey
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“I wondered if you keep it so shiny so you can...see beneath dresses and things.”
Much to her surprise he laughed. “No, that isn’t why. Though I very much like the way your mind works. It seems a little bit twisted. Which I can appreciate.”
“It was nothing more than logic. You have made me aggressively aware of your reputation.”
“An interesting way of saying I have been honest with you.”
A shiver racked her frame and she wrapped her arms around herself. “If you say so.”
“I would never want to deceive you.” He closed the distance between them, tracing her cheekbone with the edge of his thumb. “You have been so protected.”
“You always say that. But you forget. I know I spent a long time separated from society. In borderline isolation. But it doesn’t erase the tragedy that I experienced. It doesn’t take away that pain. Once you understand the evil people are willing to commit, you’re never the same. I have no experience of men and relationships, but I have seen the worst of people. The very worst. Yet I’m still breathing. I’m still standing. I am not someone in need of protection. Though your valor is appreciated.”
“I do think you’re the first person to ever accuse me of possessing valor.”
“At least I can be a first for you in some way.” She closed the distance between them, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“You seem jealous.”
She frowned. “Maybe I am.”
“A bit possessive.”
“Probably that too. But I don’t think it’s incredibly unreasonable that I should dislike the idea of you being with other women.”
“Of course not. But what made you think of it?”
“Being in this place. It is so clearly designed for seduction.”
“It is. I won’t lie to you.” Her stomach fell further still. “It is, however, new and I have not yet had the chance to seduce anyone in it.”
She felt more boosted from that than she should. “Oh.”
“Does that please you?”
She curled her fingers around his tie, holding him close to her. “Yes, it really does.”
“You surprise me.”
“I surprise myself. But I have never wanted anything bad enough to try and lay exclusive claim to it. You are the exception.”
“I don’t usually like it when women get possessive of me. I feel, perhaps you are the exception for me, as well.”
“I like the idea of that.”
“You know what I like the idea of?” He released his hold on her and took one step back. “I like the idea of you taking that dress off.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a master of seduction. Why should I be put in the position of seducing you?”
He loosened his tie and she was mesmerized by the movement. By the slide of the silk through the knot, by the movement of his hand. He slipped it through his collar and let it fall to the floor before flicking two buttons on his shirt open. “Forgive me, Zara, but I had imagined I had already seduced you.”
She smiled, surprised at how easy she found it. Then she reached behind her back, grabbing hold of the zipper tab on her silk dress and sliding it down. “Is that meant to imply that you are not already seduced? You are the one who was so desperate for me we had to rush here. We had to come here instead of the palace because of your urgency.”
She looked down, at the clear outline of his arousal pushing against the front of his trousers.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “I think it’s quite clear that I’ve already seduced you. You have seduced a great many women. You’ve told me yourself. I feel that I deserve to be part of that seduction.”
“I washed your hair, woman. Was that not seductive?”
“I am, it turns out, a very jealous beast. No. Your hair washing was not sufficient. I demand more.” She shrugged her shoulders and let her dress fall down into a silken pool at her feet. She was wearing nothing more than her very flimsy bra, panties and a pair of very bright red high heels that accentuated the shape of her legs. She did not feel embarrassed, or exposed. She felt powerful. Because she could see the heat in his eyes, see the tension in his body. She knew that he wanted her. She was certain of this, certain of him. At least in this moment. It was enough. For now, it was enough.
He slipped his black jacket off, casting it onto the couch that was near him. He unbuttoned the cuffs on his sleeves, pushing both up over his forearms. “I see. And what will it take to seduce you?”
“Take your shirt off. Slowly.”
He said nothing, his hands going to the front of his shirt, slipping buttons through the holes just as she had instructed. With each movement he revealed more tan, toned skin, more rippling muscle. She bit her lip to keep a whimper from escaping. The truth was, she had been seduced ages ago, and there was no need to do it again. She just wanted it. Just because.
Another new decadence she was not accustomed to. Having something just because it felt good. Just because it made her happy.
When he was finished, he sent it the same way as his tie, his muscles bunching and shifting with the motion. Her mouth dried, her heart pounding hard against her breastbone, echoing in her head.
“Now your pants.”
He arched a dark brow, his hands going to his belt, working it through the buckle slowly. She stared, transfixed. Everything about him was impossibly sexy. His chest, his stomach, arms, hands. She bit her lip thinking about what he was about to reveal. She was very excited about that too.
“You can go a little faster than this.”
She was sure she wasn’t imagining that, as soon as she spoke the words, he slowed his movements. “Can I? Feeling impatient?”
Yes, yes, she was. “Not particularly.”
“Are you sure I haven’t already seduced you?”
“Keep trying, I say.”
He smiled again. A genuine smile. She was keeping count of how many she had earned.
He rolled his shoulders back, the motion creating movement throughout the rest of his body. Movement she could not ignore. He was beautiful. No wonder women lost their heads over him. In truth, she imagined all he had to do was smile and he could have any woman thoroughly seduced with the beauty of his physical form. She would be more surprised if anyone ever resisted.
She certainly did not plan to resist.
He undid the closure on his pants, pushing them down his muscular thighs before straightening, revealing the full scope of his arousal. Hard and thick, and just for her.
“Sit down,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she had a chance to process them.
He said nothing, but his expression asked a very clear question.
“Do not argue with me,” she said, affecting her most imperious tone.
He took a couple of steps backward before sinking down onto the couch, his posture easy. He looked very much like a Roman emperor awaiting tribute. Well, as it so happened, she had a fitting tribute in mind.
She started to walk toward him slowly, conscious of the way her high heels made her hips sway as she walked, conscious of the way his eyes followed the motion. She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to simply admire his beauty. His square jaw, sensual mouth. Broad, muscular chest, and the dark hair that lightly covered his skin.
Then she slowly sank down to her knees, placing her palms on his thighs, her lips