Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire. Jennie Lucas
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panties and black stockings held up by a garter belt.
Stockings? A garter belt …?
Who was this woman? She was modern, young, a countess. And yet she was an old-fashioned fantasy, a 1940s bombshell. The more time he spent with Lia, the more he wanted her.
It was why he’d realized he wanted her for longer than just a night. He wanted her in his life until he’d had his fill.
For the first time, ever, he wanted to keep a woman with him on his travels.
Roark swallowed, and his hands stilled on the buttons of his shirt as he watched her. Lia was truly a woman who’d be feverishly desired by every man, no matter the age or time.
Kicking off her black high heels, she put one small foot on the bed and unclasped the first garter. Without looking at him, she rolled the black stocking slowly down her leg.
His breath came in hoarse little gasps.
Dropping the first stocking to the carpet, she repeated the process with the other leg. He licked his lips, unable to look away.
She finally turned to face him. She took a deep breath, and for the first time, he saw the blush on her cheeks, the tremble of her hands. She was nervous.
Somehow that was the sexiest thing of all.
Lia clasped her hands together, tucking them behind her back. Then she looked up at him with a sensual smile, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Roark’s heart pounded. How was it possible that he was the only man who’d ever touched her—this most desirable woman on earth? A woman so powerful and yet so vulnerable. So strong and proud and mysterious, yet utterly honest.
How was it possible that a woman like this existed anywhere beyond the realm of male fantasy?
She took a deep breath, suddenly shy. “What … what do I do now?”
It was all the invitation he needed.
Roark ripped off the last buttons of his shirt, pulled off all his clothes. With a growl, he lifted her up in his arms. “I’ll take it from here.”
He placed her tenderly on the soft bed. He moved down to kiss her lips, stroking her bare arms. He kissed down her throat, stroking every inch of her body with his sensitive fingers. She touched him back, timidly at first, then with greater confidence. He relished feeling her hands on his skin.
He relished it far too much.
But after eighteen months of frustrated desire, he wanted to take his time, to enjoy her. To take her slowly. Until he was utterly satiated with this complicated, sexy-as-hell, mysterious woman….
How long would that take?
She had to come with him to Hawaii and Tokyo. He would convince her. He had no choice. One day would not be enough. He’d kill any man who tried to take her from him now.
At this moment Roark never wanted to let her go.
He stroked and kissed her shoulders, her belly. Cupping her breasts together with his hands, he pressed his face between them. She moaned softly beneath him.
He pulled off the black lace bra.
He unhooked the garter belt.
Slowly he rolled her black panties down her thighs and dropped them to the floor. She closed her eyes. He could feel her tremble beneath his hands.
She was in his power. The thought intoxicated him.
He had taken her virginity so brutally and breathlessly in Italy. Now he had a second chance to be the lover she deserved. For the next few hours she was his prisoner in this hotel suite, and he was determined to make her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life.
He would show her what making love could really feel like.
Roark kissed her hard, and she matched him with passion of her own. When he drew away, he stared down at her. Licking his fingertips, he swirled them against her breasts, making smaller and smaller circles until he centered on the peak of her taut nipples making her gasp. He lowered his mouth to taste her, suckling each side. He kissed down her flat belly, stroking the inside of her thighs with his powerful hands, making her tremble beneath him.
“Oh, Roark,” she choked out.
He wrapped his hands beneath her backside, holding her close to him. Pushing her legs apart, he flicked his tongue inside her, making her twist and sway. He felt the hot sweat of her skin, heard the quick pant of her breath.
And he smiled. Sliding on a condom, he lifted his body above hers.
But he didn’t push inside her, not immediately. Instead he teased her. He felt her body arch to meet his as she instinctively tried to bring them closer, but he resisted. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead with the effort of not thrusting inside her. He moved slowly against her, tempting her until she gasped and pleaded wordlessly for release.
Finally, when she could take it no longer, he pressed inside her, inch by agonizing inch. But he didn’t close his eyes at his own wave of pleasure.
Instead he watched her.
Watched the way she sucked in her breath, biting her full bottom lip. Her mouth was smeared with red lipstick, bruised with hard kisses.
He watched the way her eyelids fluttered. Her beautiful face turned up blissfully as if she heard choirs of angels. He watched the fervent movement of her lips as she soundlessly gasped his name.
With each slow thrust, sliding his hips in rhythm to the center of her pleasure, he watched her. Until she started to tense and shake beneath him. Then he rode her. Deeper. Faster. He never closed his eyes. He never looked away from her. When she finally cried out her release, their eyes locked, and lightning went through Roark’s body, exploding him into a million chiming pieces.
His angel.
Being with her was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Afterward, he held her. He wanted to be close to her. He stroked her as she dozed in his arms.
He’d never wanted a woman to sleep in his bed.
He himself had never been unable to sleep because he wanted to just stare at the woman he’d bedded.
Lia’s beauty and power and goodness held him. He watched the slanting warmth of the afternoon sun leave a glow on her closed eyes, on her lips curved in a gentle smile.
She was perfect, he thought. The perfect woman. The perfect mistress. The perfect wife.
Wife?
He’d never thought he would marry, but looking at her now, he had the sudden desire to possess her forever. To keep her solely for his own use and pleasure. To make sure no man could ever, ever touch her. Permanently.
For the first time in his life, he could understand why a man would want to take a wife.
He’d never wanted any woman like this. Roark had always been determined to stay free.
Now, for the first time, ever, he suddenly had found a woman who wouldn’t commit to him. And all he wanted to do was pin her down.
He tried to push the thought away. He couldn’t get married. He wasn’t the marrying sort. And even if he was, Lia wouldn’t marry him.
She wanted a home. She wanted a child. She wanted love.
What could he possibly offer her to compensate for everything he wouldn’t—couldn’t—give her?
“Lia,” he whispered, stroking the inside of her bare arms. Her eyes fluttered open, and he saw her face light up with a smile on sight of him. And something inside his heart beat faster.
“Lia,” he repeated, then swallowed.
Marry me.
Give up your desire for home and a family and love. Be