Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire. Jennie Lucas
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the wedding reception down the hall!
“Let me go!” She struggled to be free of Roark’s grasp. “I don’t want you—”
He cut her off with a hungry kiss. His lips were hot and tight on hers, bruising her, searing her tongue with his own. The more she tried to resist his embrace, the more forcefully he convinced her. Mastering her. Enslaving her. Until her hatred changed to furious passion and the unyielding force of mutual need.
She wrapped her hands up around his back, kissing him with all the pent-up anger and longing of the past eighteen months.
“I hate you,” she whispered against his mouth. “I hate you so much.”
“I’m tired of wanting you. Tired of hungering for what I can’t have.” His voice was a deep whisper in the darkness. The stubble on his chin was rough against her skin. “I’ve spent the past year trying to forget how your body felt against mine. Hate me all you want. But I’m still going to have you.”
He slowly kissed down her throat, moving his hands over her breasts, over the silky smoothness of her shirtdress.
Then she felt him fall to his knees in front of her. For a moment he didn’t touch her, and she felt adrift in the darkness; then she felt his strong hands moving slowly past her knee-high black boots, up her bare thighs.
She trembled and shook. “Roark … what are you …?”
“Shhh.”
He stroked the outside of her legs to the curve of her hips. He ran his fingertips along the lace edge of her silken panties. He lifted her skirt. She felt his hot breath on the inside of her thighs.
“Roark,” she gasped.
He moved forward to kiss and lick her thighs. Then his kisses climbed higher. He moved his hand over her panties, cupping her, stroking the moistening spot between her legs. He kissed her through the sliver of fabric, pulling at the silk gently with his teeth.
She sucked in her breath. He yanked her underwear to the floor, rolling it like a whisper down her legs. He reached between her naked thighs, stroking her with his fingers until she was sopping wet.
Then he took his first taste of her.
She gasped, arching her back against the wall of the broom closet. She gripped his shoulders.
“You can’t … we mustn’t—”
But he didn’t listen. He didn’t stop.
Holding her firmly, he pressed her legs apart, lifting her knee over his shoulder. He tipped her body back against the wall. She felt his hot breath between her legs.
Her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she trembled.
“No,” she whimpered, even as she involuntarily arched to meet his mouth.
He leaned forward and took a long, deep taste between her legs, at the same moment thrusting a thick finger inside her. She writhed against the wall, flinging her head from side to side as he held her.
“You’re so sweet,” he whispered. “Like sugar.”
Spreading her wide with his fingers, he lapped her with a full stroke of his tongue. She cried and gasped, but he didn’t let her go.
Pleasure ripped through her body, making her nipples into hard, aching peaks. He reached one hand up to squeeze her breast; with his other, he thrust two fingers inside her, teasing her as he swirled her sensitive nub with his tongue, leaving her wet as she twisted beneath his mouth, sobbing for release.
“Please,” she cried. “No more …”
“Say you’re mine,” he whispered. She felt him push another finger inside her, swirling her harder and faster with his tongue until she twined her hands through his hair, pulling him closer still.
“I’m … yours,” she sobbed.
He nibbled and sucked and thrust inside. She threw her head back with one loud, final shriek as the darkness all around her burst into sudden vibrant color….
“Hello?” a man’s voice said tremulously. “Lia? Are you in there?”
As she still panted for breath, struggling to regain control of her wildly flailing senses, she watched with horror as the broom closet door started to open!
She stumbled down off Roark’s shoulders and he rose unsteadily to his feet. She pushed down her dress. And blinked in the bright light as she saw Andrew standing in the doorway.
“Lia?” He looked in shock at Roark. “What are you doing in here?”
“I took the dance from you,” he replied coolly.
With a sob, Lia stepped forward. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Andrew. I am so sorry. Forgive me.”
She saw him blink hard, take a deep breath. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, Lia.” He swallowed. “I see now that you will never be happy with me.”
“Andrew—”
“Good-bye, Lia. Good luck.” Turning away, he paused in the doorway. She heard him say quietly over his shoulder, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
And he left, closing the door behind him.
Lia stared after him in horror.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “What have I done?”
“It was inevitable.” Roark wrapped his arms around her waist, turning her to face him. “It’s best for him to know the truth.”
“The truth? You mean that I have no self-control?” She gave a harsh, bitter laugh, then shook her head. Her throat hurt. Her whole body hurt with the shame of what she’d done. What she’d let Roark do to her. “Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do I let you?”
“I’ll tell you why.” He stroked her cheek. His voice was dark and deep, mesmerizing in its power and intensity. “Because you want to belong to me.”
CHAPTER TEN
ROARK’S words still haunted her as she got dressed for work in her town house the next morning. Lia glanced at herself in the mirror of her elegant, solitary bedroom. Just remembering what he’d done to her last night caused her hands to shake as she buttoned her sleek Armani jacket. Her dark hair was swept up in a glossy chignon, and with her black suit, dark-patterned stockings and high-heeled boots, she looked like any capable businesswoman heading to work.
Only the dark hollows beneath Lia’s eyes gave away the truth.
She hadn’t slept at all last night. She’d fled that broom closet like the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels. She’d run from the wedding without even saying farewell to Emily or wishing her joy as a married woman. Instead Lia had scrambled headlong from the hotel, flagging down a taxi with the same panic she’d had at the Black and White Ball eighteen months earlier.
What was it about Roark Navarre that turned her into such a coward?
“Yes, a coward,” she said accusingly to the outwardly serene woman in the mirror. “A total fraud.”
She could still feel Roark’s hands on her body. Could still feel his hot breath, the sleek possessive force of his tongue. She looked again at her face. Her cheeks had turned red.
She hated him.
But that didn’t stop her from wanting him.
What was wrong with her? Knowing what he’d done to her family, knowing the kind of man he was, how could she possibly want him? And yet she did. She had absolutely no self-control where he was concerned.
Thank God she’d never see him again. Now that Emily and Nathan were on their way to their honeymoon the Caribbean, Roark would go back to Asia. Lia hoped he was already halfway over the Pacific on his private plane,