Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2)

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Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2) Page 6

by L. M. Connolly


  Wet though she was, his entry made her gasp. He paused, gazing down at her. “You’ve done this before, right?”

  She laughed, but stopped quickly because the action made her inner passage tighten, and there wasn’t any room for that. “Yes. But not for a while.” Not for a long time.

  Before she could stop him, he pulled out of her, laughing as she wailed. “Just wait. Let’s do it this way.”

  He rolled over, taking her with him, holding her with effortless strength. He urged her to sit up and straddle his thighs, her knees pressing against the bed. Once she saw his erection properly, she sucked in an awed breath. No wonder she had problems. This prime specimen of manhood wasn’t suitable for beginners. Far too challenging.

  Scarlett crooned low in her throat, stroking a finger over the tip of his cock.

  “Oh no,” he said, catching her wrist and moving her hand away. “Later. But now—this way you can take me at your own pace. I don’t want to hurt you, Scarlett. I just want to bring you pleasure.”

  Oh, he would do that all right. Feverish desire surged through her. Her body felt empty in a way it never had before. But he just lay there, like a god waiting to be worshiped, watching her.

  Only his eyes revealed his need. “Come on, sweetheart. Get with it.”

  His taunting words were enough to get her to rise up on her knees, hovering over him.

  He grasped the base of his erection, and raised a brow. “I dare you.”

  She was laughing when she positioned over him, teasing herself with the tip. Groaning low in his throat, he rubbed himself against her clit. Arrows of instant sensation shot through her, and she lurched forward, temporarily losing all control.

  “Hey.” Evan wrapped one strong hand around her hip, and guided her over him. “Take me. Do it now before I explode.” He laughed, harshly, with a wild edge.

  If she wasn’t so desperate herself Scarlett might have teased him some more, just for the pleasure of seeing him go wild. But she was on the edge. She couldn’t wait any longer. When she settled her body over his, both let out long breaths. It felt like this had been coming for a long time. Impossible, but that didn’t stop the feeling. The way they gelled, the familiarity, the desire that had come out of nowhere and taken her by the throat.

  She pushed down.

  “Take it easy. We have all night.”

  But she wanted it now, and fast and overwhelming, so she didn’t have to talk about it, or think or anything. Do this fast. Her reasoning was catching up with her, far too fast for her to stop it. But she still desired him. She didn’t want to, didn’t want to think about the speed of this, or her foolishness in doing it.

  She just needed.

  Meeting his eyes, she spotted the beads of sweat dotting his brow. Not as cool as she’d thought, then. The sight gave her courage, enough to push down more, to take more of him into her inexperienced body. A low groan emerged from her throat.

  His large hand remained steady on her hip as she sank down. Never-ending, until the cheeks of her derriere met the thick columns of his thighs. Her knees were spread wide, necessary as she straddled his body, so much bigger than hers.

  So much stronger. And yet he was at her mercy now. He’d put himself there deliberately, given her control. This time she had all the moves, and she was going to make the most of it while she could. With him fully embedded in her, she gazed down at him, meeting his heavenly blue eyes, currently dark with passion.

  Then he drove up, and his presence in her body became desperately important, as sensations radiated through her from where their bodies met. He moved, urging her to go again. So she did. And then they were working together. She slammed down as he drove up, their bodies heading toward their mutual peak.

  The fever inside her rose, her breath shortened as she threw back her head and gasped for air, not stopping her frantic ride.

  “You look amazing,” he said. “A goddess. Go for the win, Scarlett!”

  She had no intention of doing anything else. As they neared the finish line, her back stiffened, thrills pushing her, making her mindless. Beneath her, Evan grunted with effort, and he gripped her hip hard enough to leave bruises. Not that she cared. Instead, she leaned into him, and the change of angle sparked her climax.

  Surges of pure fire soared through her, blossoming and energizing. Scarlett froze as the effects suffused her, tightening every muscle, working as she convulsed around him, her violent contractions exhausting and sublime.

  His shout heralded his own explosion, his cock throbbing deep inside her body as he joined her.

  *

  Ethan curled Scarlett into his arms, guiding her gently down to the bed next to him. She’d come hard and dropped on to him like a stone. But after he’d recovered from his own orgasm, which had taken a lot longer than was usual for him, he’d taken care of her.

  She was sleeping like a baby. Exhaustion and stress could have done that to her, although he preferred to think it was his lovemaking that had done it. A dramatic finish, though.

  Already he wanted more. Slipping out of bed, he headed for the bathroom where he disposed of the condom and gazed longingly at the inadequate shower. At least the water was still working, although the heat wouldn’t be. He made do with a wash.

  Reluctantly he left her in bed while he went downstairs to clear up their meal and collect more candles. He found matches in a kitchen drawer, and took it with him. Before he left the silent, dark kitchen, he gulped down a pint of water.

  He couldn’t be sorry for what they’d done, however hard he tried. Getting involved with Scarlett personally complicated the situation exponentially. But he still wanted the hotel, and he’d get it.

  On impulse, he went back to the dining room and felt in the pocket of his discarded jacket, finding his phone. After tapping a few texts into it, sending instructions to his London staff and his personal lawyer, he checked his messages. Nothing important. They could take it from there. When it came to his personal staff, he only employed the best. His father was to be blocked from contacting him, they’d have a plane ready for him on Sunday evening for the trip across the pond, and he set the process of buying the Woodward under way. If she objected, he’d come back and persuade her, because she was killing herself here, and all for nothing.

  He didn’t need any more. He shut down his phone. The last thing he needed was to have interruptions to his tryst with the gorgeous Scarlett.

  A pang of guilt suffused him as he walked through the hallway, but he dismissed it. She’d get over his annexation of the Woodward. She was running on empty, and if he didn’t take it from her, the bank would. The cost of rewiring, redecorating, and refurbishing this place was high enough to make even him think twice, but this place had good bones, and it was perfect for his needs. He’d take good care of it.

  What they’d done tonight had nothing to do with that deal.

  And once she woke up, they sure as hell would be doing it again. And again.

  *

  Scarlett woke to the scent of strawberries and Evan. He lay next to her, holding her, looking down at her face. “There you are,” he said, when her eyelids flickered open. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  The strawberries were from the desserts he’d brought up, the ones they had meant to eat downstairs. He lit more candles, and the night dissolved into playfulness and lovemaking. They ate strawberries and cream off each other’s bodies, the game turning into passion as desire rose between them once more. This time he rose up over her and drove in hard, taking her with a raw sensuality she couldn’t resist or deny, rousing previously unknown responses from her.

  No wonder she’d never taken sex seriously before. She’d never met a man like Evan who could drive the shadows away. Nobody came close to him. The phantom of her ex floated into her head, but she dismissed it firmly. Peter had no place here.

  Sleeping came as naturally as breathing, when she lay in his arms. The distance between waking and sleeping became immaterial. Once she awok
e to find him licking her breasts, dropping kisses on her skin. The next time she woke first, and took her pleasure from him, exploring his strong, tanned body. “How do you manage to tan all over?” she asked him, nuzzling the groove that led from one hip, the matching line framing his abdomen as if it was a piece of art.

  “On secluded beaches, roof gardens. Why?” He lifted his head to watch her, tangling his fingers in her hair.

  “Just wondering. You’re not a nudist, then?”

  “Only with you.” He traced a line around her shoulder blades, watching as he drew a sensual response from her and they fell into the world they were fast making their own.

  They could have been alone in the world. Nobody phoned, nobody called.

  And she slept.

  She woke to daylight, alone in the bed. Confused, she sat up, the sheets tangled around her body. Where was Evan? A cold hand clutched her throat. Had he gone?

  But as she looked around, she saw the partly-open wardrobe, and the clothes hung neatly inside.

  A sound from the bathroom door made her whirl around, tangling herself up even more. Grinning, Evan crossed the room to her, his naked body as mouthwatering in the daylight as it was in the glow of candlelight. “Come on, lazybones,” he said, scooping her up, sheets and all.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I ran us a bath.”

  “Oh.”

  “I used the last of the hot water. It’s not too hot, but I promise to keep you warm.”

  She had no doubt of that.

  He kept his promise, and they emerged from the lukewarm water reasonably clean. “I need more condoms,” he told her. “And we need hot food. Let’s go out for breakfast.”

  That sounded good to her, but then she stilled and turned to face him, tucking the towel primly over her breasts.

  He watched her steadily, his eyes faraway. He was thinking. “I know somewhere nearby. I don’t want to waste a minute of our time together.”

  “You’re so romantic.” She lifted her face for his kiss.

  “I’m the least romantic man in the world,” he protested, but he kissed her anyway. Scarlett knew better than that. This man had romance written all the way through him, like a stick of Blackpool rock.

  After dressing, they went out hand in hand, to a small café tucked away in a back street. Oxford Street was, as always, packed with tourists, none of whom ever stayed at the Woodward.

  “Do you know England well?” she asked as they entered the place, which smelled wonderfully of fried food and coffee.

  “Pretty well.”

  “Would you ever settle here?”

  He glanced at her, his eyes wide, before turning his attention back to the road. “Why?” Wariness entered his gaze, and two furrows appeared between his brows.

  Ah. So that answered the question she was tentatively forming in her mind. “That’s okay,” she said airily, although it wasn’t. “I know what this is. We’re ships passing in the night. No past, no future.”

  “No,” he replied slowly. “I didn’t mean that.”

  They paused while they found seats at a table against the far wall.

  Then he spoke again. “I guess I wasn’t thinking too far ahead. But my home is in America. I have business there I can’t ignore.”

  “Of course.” She tried for smooth acceptance.

  “I want to see you again, Scarlett. I do.”

  She left it there, changing the subject, making a show of ordering her breakfast. She didn’t want empty promises, or vague plans to keep in touch. Having this intense connection melt away bit by bit was too much. She wouldn’t think about that now, but try to concentrate on the present.

  As if he understood, he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it before the waitress arrived with their order. “We’ll see each other again. I promise.”

  They didn’t talk about it again.

  “You’re going to make some girl really lucky one day,” she told him when they were back in bed in his room, a fresh supply of condoms in hand.

  “I doubt that,” he answered. “I really do.”

  *

  “I have to go.” His face, smoothly neutral, told Scarlett all she needed to know about Evan Cooper and his intentions. He would go and she would never hear from him again. Better than keeping her hanging on, or dropping her when she didn’t turn out as perfect as he wanted.

  Not that he’d ever said anything else, and she had no right to expect anything. But that last time, as the gray fingers of twilight crept through the window of the featureless guest bedroom, they’d thrown themselves into a silent, fervent encounter that had encapsulated their passion-sodden weekend.

  “I know,” she said, pushing the words through numb lips. “Have a good trip.” Famous last words. How many women had said that?

  “I’m sorry.” He was naked except for his underwear, and as he spoke he moved away to pick up his shirt. Getting back into uniform, ready for his red-eye flight back to the States. “I’d stay if I could, but I really need to get back. There’s a meeting tomorrow, and I have to be there.”

  She’d known this moment would come, but she hadn’t realized how devastated his leaving would make her feel. It shouldn’t. She’d barely known Evan Cooper at all. He’d arrived on Friday night, and now, Sunday evening, he was leaving. For good.

  She broached the question she’d dreaded asking. But once it had occurred to her, she had to know the answer. “Are you married?”

  “God, no!” His face turned into a picture of revulsion. “Do you really think I’d do this if I were married?”

  At least she wasn’t making another woman’s life miserable. “Thanks for everything you’ve done. I could be standing in the middle of a charred ruin, if you hadn’t acted so fast.”

  He came back to the bed and leaned over her, the open sides of his white shirt gaping over his magnificent chest. “Don’t say that. Promise me, on whatever you hold most sacred that you won’t turn the electricity back on until you’ve had a qualified electrician in to assess the damage. Promise.”

  “Okay, I promise.” She meant to do that anyway, but his care for her touched her deeply. “I’ll call somebody first thing in the morning.” She’d charged her phone up at the café when they were eating breakfast, so at least she had that.

  “That’s my girl.” He touched her chin, urging her to meet his eyes. “We will see each other again, Scarlett. Once that meeting is done with, I’ll come back.”

  No, not that. False expectations, or a long-term affair that had little chance of surviving. She would rather remember his part in this weekend with no regrets. “I don’t expect anything, Evan. You gave me the time of my life, and I’ll never forget you. Maybe another time, another place…” She shrugged, although her shoulders felt stiff. “We might have had something. As it is, you’ve given me so much.”

  He met her gaze steadily. “You want a clean break?”

  She nodded. “I think it’s for the best.”

  Tears choked her throat, but she refused to let them fall until he’d left. She couldn’t show him how deeply he’d affected her. For all she knew he did this kind of thing on a regular basis, a series of casual encounters that was all he wanted. But the depth of what they had exchanged this weekend had affected her more than she could express, and she knew he had marked her for life.

  He nodded. “Things will work out for you. I just know it.”

  He finished dressing in record time, collected his case, and went to the door, exchanging one wordless look at her before he left.

  Only when she heard the front door slam did Scarlett allow herself the luxury of tears.

  Chapter Five

  For the third or fourth time Ethan repressed a bellow of rage. He’d learned the hard way that expressing his temper would do him no good whatsoever. They’d use his true emotions against him, that was all.

  The board sat around the large rectangular mahogany table in the head office of the Noir Group, New York. Most were hi
s relatives, and those that weren’t were in his father’s pocket. The others were his people, appointees who were helping him save the company. They weren’t making much headway.

  “The trouble is, you go whooping it up around the world, and the press follows you,” his father grumbled. “The photos in the papers are getting embarrassing. They’re impacting the bottom line.”

  Like hell, they were. The curse word that rose to his lips didn’t pass them. Instead, he sat bolt upright and faced his father, meeting his gaze directly. That always put off the old fraud. Nobody did that to him. When he’d been chairman, he had the arrogance to spread instructions that nobody was to meet his gaze. Ethan delighted in doing so and his father couldn’t do anything to stop him. “Nonsense. I’ve done more for the company than the last two chairmen.”

  “Your great-grandfather wouldn’t have thought so.”

  Ethan shrugged. “I never knew him. I wish I had. He had different, innovative ideas that pushed us forward.” Deliberately he left his father’s generation out of his argument. His grandfather had produced in abundance, six children, all of whom wanted their piece of the business. Without working for it, preferably. “Now it’s my turn. Stop distracting me with marriage. This isn’t a family lunch. We need to take a vote.”

  If this vote didn’t go his way, whatever it cost him, Ethan was prepared to resign. And watch his own shares tank together with the reputation of the company.

  His father frowned. “You know why I’ve always married rather than dated?”

  Ethan remained silent, his gaze steady.

  Dustin sighed heavily. “Because a wife is more secure. You can bind a wife with a prenup and a nondisclosure. Random girlfriends are dangerous. They can gossip anywhere they want, run off to your competitors, sell all your secrets to the media.”

  That made sense for his father. “If you have secrets to keep. If you’re stupid enough to let your girlfriend anywhere near your secrets.”

  No way would he admit that his father had a point. Could he really say he’d been meticulously careful about his plans? With his new concern, yes. He’d flown under the radar with his new hotels, as he’d wanted to, but how long before the media picked up what he was up to? He needed time to establish his new brand, to present enough of his investment properly. And to do that, he needed the Noir to flourish.

 

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