Blackmailed Into His Arms. Margaret Mayo
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breathing increased, her lungs contracting to absorb less and less oxygen with each breath. She raised her legs higher, gripping him about the waist, doing everything she could to pull him deeper.
It wasn’t enough. He was pounding into her now, his fingers digging into the flesh of her buttocks, but still she wanted more. She wanted harder, faster, stronger … More, more, more.
Even as she thought it, the words tumbled from her lips. Broken and disjointed, but directly into Chase’s ear.
He heard, agreed, obeyed, taking her higher and faster until she was gasping. Her body strained for him, strained for release.
And then it hit with the impact of a bullet, making her cry out and claw at his back with her nails. Her inner muscles spasmed around him, and she moaned in wonder as he took her climbing again.
The second climax was as strong as the first, rocking her to her very core. And this time, he came with her, grinding his mouth to hers as he pumped one last time, then went rigid above her.
For several long minutes, they lay there, tangled and still, their ragged breathing the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Elena couldn’t move, her bones weak, her will nonexistent.
She hadn’t ever experienced an orgasm even close to that in her adult life, not to mention the level of sensuality, passion, eroticism and intensity he’d shown her.
If she’d ever suspected sex with Chase Ramsey would be half as satisfying as what they’d just done, she’d have been tempted to look him up long ago … or seduce him back in high school.
She might even have to thank him for blackmailing her into this situation, because so far, being his mistress was turning out to have some incredible perks.
With a reluctant groan, he rolled aside. The air in the room washed over her naked, damp body, making her shiver. But a second later, he’d pulled back the bedspread and was dragging her toward the headboard. He tucked her under the covers, propped a pillow beneath her head and then slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
As pillow talk went, it was somewhat lacking, but she was too tired and too satisfied to care. Curling into him, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off, only vaguely aware of the smile stretched across her face.
Four
Elena awoke the next morning to a gentle clinking and the heavenly smell of scrambled eggs and fresh-brewed coffee. She rolled to her back, inhaling deeply and stretching her arms high above her head before forcing her eyes open.
The room was still dark, the bed so soft and warm and comfortable, she never wanted to leave it. But the scent of breakfast and sounds of someone moving around in the other room drove her to throw back the covers and sit up.
It took her a moment to realize she was stark naked, the cream-colored satin sheets soft against her bare skin. And then she remembered the events of last evening, a bright flush heating her from her toes to her hairline. She couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed or sorry Chase wasn’t still in bed beside her so they could once again do everything they’d done last night—and more.
Padding across the soft plush carpet, she found a robe and nightie set in one of the dresser drawers and put them on, then took a few minutes to brush her teeth and wash her face before moving to the open doorway between the bedroom and sitting room.
Chase was already dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, white shirt, and seafoam tie, his black hair neatly combed and styled. He sat at the round mahogany table arranged in front of the wide open windows, sipping hot coffee and reading the morning paper.
Running her fingers through her still sleep-tousled hair, she cleared her throat and started forward.
He lifted his head when he noticed her approach and gave her a small smile. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”
She nodded, taking the seat across from him and reaching for the coffee carafe to pour herself a cup.
“I didn’t know what you’d like for breakfast, so I ordered a little of everything,” he told her, reaching for the room service cart a few inches away and removing the silver lids from several platters.
There were pancakes, scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and sausage links and a wide array of fresh, seasonal fruit. It looked delicious, and she wasted no time filling her plate. She added cream and sugar to her coffee and poured a bit of syrup over her pancakes before digging in.
A second later, she lifted her head and glanced at Chase. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked.
He shook his head and lifted his cup to his lips. “Coffee’s all I need in the morning.”
Having him watch her eat what amounted to a truckload of food while he merely sipped his black coffee made her feel like a glutton. Not that it would stop her, she thought, popping a bite of honeydew melon in her mouth.
After she swallowed, she waved her fork at him, distracting him once again from the business section of the Las Vegas Review-Journal.
“It’s not healthy to skip breakfast, you know,” she told him, breaking a slice of bacon into smaller pieces and nibbling them one at a time. “It’s the most important meal of the day.”
One side of his mouth lifted indulgently before he returned his attention to the paper without a word.
She ate in silence awhile longer, enjoying the sunny view out the bank of tall windows, but not her current company. Finally, she put down her fork and grabbed a second plate, filling it with small portions of the same items on her own.
“Here,” she said, pushing the paper aside with a rattle and placing the plate in front of him. “You’re driving me crazy. You have to eat something.”
He stared at her for a long minute, brows knit in a frown. “I don’t need anything to eat.”
He started to open his paper again and straighten the page she’d wrinkled. With a sigh, she half-stood and took the paper from his hands. Before he could grab it back, she returned to her seat and leaned far enough away that he couldn’t reach her unless he got up and came around the table.
“How about if I read the paper to you while you eat?” she offered brightly.
His frown turned into a full-blown scowl. “Elena,” he murmured, lacing her name with dire warning. “I didn’t bring you along to mother me or tell me what to do. I’m thirty-five years old and already set in my ways. I have a routine and I like to stick to it. Now give me back my paper.”
She tipped her head. “Indulge me. Please? You’ve got a busy day ahead of you, and we expended quite a bit of energy last night. You need to keep your strength up or you’ll be of absolutely no use to me in bed tonight.”
She felt her cheeks heat at her own audacity, but forced herself not to squirm under his intense regard. He studied her for several long seconds while her insides turned to jelly.
And then he let out a bark of laughter and picked up his fork.
“Fine,” he said. “You read, I’ll eat. And don’t worry,” he added with a pointed, just-shy-of-boiling glance, “I’ll have plenty of energy for anything you might have in mind tonight.”
Opening the paper to hide any more bright color that might suffuse her face, she swallowed hard and began reading where she thought he’d left off. The information was boring enough to counteract the caffeine already coursing through her bloodstream, but she didn’t stop until she’d reached the last page. She even recapped the comics for him one by one.
When she was finished, she folded the paper and set it aside, delighted to see that he’d cleaned his plate and even poured himself a small glass of orange juice.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “From now on, I’m going to have a huge, four-course