by Penny Jordan
There was no doubt that Amanda wanted her to know that she considered Dominic to be her property. Well, she was welcome to him, Christy told herself bitterly; more than welcome.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘DOMINIC, what are you doing? You’ve just driven straight past my parents’ gate,’ Christy protested sharply, sitting up straighter in her seat.
‘They won’t be expecting you yet. I thought you might like a nightcap.’
She was too bereft of words to speak, simply staring at him as he skilfully turned the car into the drive of his own home.
That he should have brought her here instead of taking her straight home was the last thing she had expected. In fact, she had half imagined that once he had delivered her home safely he would drive back to the Manor and Amanda’s undoubtedly welcoming arms.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she told him crossly. ‘I don’t want another drink. In fact, I don’t want anything at all from you.’
‘You don’t?’ His face was in the shadows as he leaned forward to silence the engine. ‘That wasn’t the impression I got earlier tonight,’ he told her cruelly. ‘However, I haven’t brought you back here to make love to you, if that was what you were implying, Christy,’ he added derisively.
‘I didn’t think you had,’ she retaliated instantly. ‘After all, you’ve got Amanda for that, haven’t you?’
There was a moment’s tense silence and then he was opening his door and sliding his lean length out.
‘Let’s get inside before we both freeze.’
She wanted to refuse, but the implacably determined expression on his face as he waited for her to join him warned her not to.
The icy wind seemed to bite right through to her skin, and she was shivering by the time she stood in the large hall.
It felt cold and slightly damp, and as though aware of her thoughts, Dominic said quietly, ‘I intend to have central heating installed in the spring. Come on, we’ll go into my study; it’s warmer in there.’
Christy stood to one side as he knelt by the dying embers of the fire and threw on some fresh logs. A shower of sparks raced up the chimney, the scent of apple logs filling the room.
He hadn’t bothered to switch on any lights, and the dancing flames licking round the logs cast mellow shadows over the shelves of books. A pair of thick velvet curtains had been drawn against the night, and Christy fingered the fabric absently.
‘This is rather a large house for a single man…’ Her skin flushed hotly as she realised that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. Dominic threw another log on the fire and dusted off his hands before standing up.
‘It affords me a welcome degree of privacy, and it’s convenient for almost everywhere in the practice. I had to find somewhere in a hurry, and it was either this, or a Victorian terrace in Setondale.’
So he hadn’t bought the house with marriage and a family in mind. ‘Amanda thinks it’s got good potential,’ he added casually, tossing the words at her over his shoulders as he moved towards one of the cupboards and removed a decanter and two glasses.
Christy watched him pour the ruby liquid through a red haze of jealousy. It bit into her with flames that burned hotter than those devouring the apple logs, scorching her like corrosive acid. She could barely see through the rage of jealousy and hurt roaring through her body, and her wayward tongue raced into hasty speech before she could silence it, her voice unnaturally high and hurried as she cried bitterly, ‘Does she now? I’d be very surprised if she agreed to settle up here, though, Dominic. I realise that she wants you very badly, but I should have thought Harley Street was more what she has in mind than Setondale.’
Like someone caught up in a nightmare, she froze as she watched Dominic tense and then put down the decanter. Prisms of light from the fire glittered off the crystal, and she was amazed that her brain could take note of such trivia when it also knew the enormity of what she had just said.
There was no kindness in the way he smiled at her as he turned to face her, and it seemed to Christy in her fear that there was an almost demonic quality to the way his skin seemed stretched tight over his facial bones.
‘Well, now,’ he said softly, ‘that’s a revealing statement if ever I heard one. You wouldn’t be jealous of her, by any chance, would you?’
Appalled by what her unruly tongue had trapped her in, Christy blazed furiously, ‘What could I be jealous of? The fact that she goes to bed with you? I was the one who turned down that opportunity—remember?’
He was across the room in half a dozen strides, gripping her arms in a hurtful furious strength.
‘My God, you just don’t know when to stop, do you?’ he breathed thickly.
She struggled against him, fear and desire mingling in almost equal quantities, but her struggles seemed only to incite the fires she could see blazing in the depths of his eyes.
‘Stop it, Christy!’ He shook her almost as though she weighed no more than a rag doll, and in an agony of bitterness, she raised her hand to claw desperately at his face. He jerked his head out of the way just in time, and then Christy heard him swear and saw the dark fury in his face.
It was too late to protest or plead for mercy, and time seemed to stand still in a preternatural silence as he slowly lowered his head towards her. She could hear the fiery crackle of the logs, and the agonised sound of her own breathing. A tortured moan was smothered in her throat as she felt the savagely harsh pressure of his mouth against her own.
There was nothing sensual or arousing about the way he kissed her; he was punishing her, deriding her, but in spite of everything she could feel the sudden upsurge of passion flooding through her, as though her body had starved so long for his touch that it was ready even to respond to this…this parody of passionate need.
She could feel the edge of his teeth against her mouth, and felt herself shiver in physical response as he used them without compunction to part the swollen softness of her lips. When his tongue thrust possessively into her mouth, she felt the molten heat slide through her veins.
Against her body she could feel the rapid, uneven thud of Dominic’s heart. Somehow her arms had locked round his neck, holding him against her. His tongue touched her lips, tracing their swollen curves. She felt the shiver that ran through him, hardly recognising the husky, raw note of pain in his voice as he muttered against her mouth, ‘God, Christy…what is it you do to me?’
His mouth touched hers again, gently this time as though he wanted to caress away her pain. She could easily have pulled away from him, but she didn’t, abandoning herself instead to the heady tide of pleasure that swept her away from reality as his mouth lingered on hers.
‘Christy…’
She shivered responsively to the note of need deepening the way he said her name. She could feel the heat of his hands where they held her, and beneath the bodice of her gown her breasts ached to be caressed.
His mouth was no longer punishing as it moved on hers, all anger and contempt expunged by the need that seemed to engulf them both. Without him saying it she could sense his desire, feel it in the way his hands stroked over her back, moulding her against him. She clung to him in the firelight, giving herself up completely into fate’s hands, wanting him too much to fight any longer.
‘Christy, you’ve no idea what you do to me. I’ve wanted you for so long.’
The muttered words shivered across her skin, her head falling back against his shoulder as his mouth explored the soft column of her throat. Tiny spears of delight shafted through her, her body so responsive to his touch that he made a sound of muttered frustration against her skin.
‘Let me make love to you, Christy. Let me show you how much I want you.’ His hands reached for the fastenings at the back of her dress, his body tensing as she stepped gently away from him.
She couldn’t stop herself from blushing softly as she saw him looking at her. A dark flush of passion stained his cheekbones, his eyes feverishly alight as he reached for her.
&nb
sp; ‘Let me unfasten it,’ she said softly. ‘The catches…’
She had stepped into a pool of light cast by the fire, and suddenly his expression darkened. Fear, and remembrance of that earlier rejection, held her immobile, her lips trembling as she asked huskily, ‘What is it, Dominic, what’s wrong?’
‘It’s that damned dress…’
She stared at him, ridiculously hurt. ‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘He bought it for you,’ Dominic told her savagely. ‘That’s what’s wrong with it.’ He moved towards her, his face contorting paganly as he reached for the front of her gown, and with one savage wrench ripped the bodice open.
Too shocked to correct him Christy could only stare down at the destruction he had wrought.
‘Dominic!’
‘Take it off, for God’s sake,’ he demanded thickly. ‘I can’t bear seeing you in it, Christy…I can’t bear knowing…’ He made a raw, thick sound in his throat and reached for her again, dragging the expensive fabric away from her body, until it fell in a pool at her feet.
For what seemed like a long time she was too stunned to move. The firelight played softly on the creamy contours of her breasts, but she was barely aware of the look in Dominic’s eyes as his gaze absorbed their rounded perfection crowned with the pouting provocation of her erect nipples.
‘Christy… My God…you’re so beautiful. More beautiful than I could ever have imagined.’ He moved to her then, lifting her away from the desecration of her gown. ‘To think I once refused all this.’ He closed his eyes and she saw him swallow painfully, that tiny vulnerable movement in his throat cutting through her shock.
‘Do you still hate me for that?’ His fingers seemed to shake slightly as they caressed her throat and moved up to tilt her face so that she was forced to look at him.
Hate him? She stared into the brilliance of his eyes, and moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. His eyes followed the movement intently, heat shooting through her as he pulled her hard against him and she felt the surge of his desire against her body. His hands slid down to her hips, urging her closer to him. His eyes closed so that his dark lashes lay vulnerably against the tautness of his skin as he bent his head and kissed her with a fierce and totally overwhelming passion.
She had no thought of holding back, of even trying to stop him. Her body surrendered eagerly to his touch, her breasts crushed against his chest.
He released her briefly to tug off his jacket. Beneath the fine cotton of his shirt she could see the heavy play of muscles and the dark shadowing of hair, and her fingers itched to unfasten his shirt. Lost in her own private daydreams, she suddenly realised how tense he was.
A soft flush of colour spread over her body as she saw the way he was looking at her.
‘My God, you can’t know how much I’ve wanted this.’
His hands touched her, sliding softly up over her ribs to cup her breasts. Fierce surges of delight rocketed through her, her breasts swelling wantonly against his palms. She shuddered in molten desire beneath the arousing movement of his thumbs against her nipples.
‘You like that?’
His voice was unfamiliar, raw and husky with male desire, and she thrilled to the sound of it.
‘Dear heaven, I nearly went mad with the need to do this years ago…do you know that?’
She quivered in response, making no demur when he picked her up and carried her across to the settee, sitting down on it, holding her in his arms.
Firelight played across the planes of his face and she raised almost timid fingers to caress it. Shocking waves of delight shuddered through her as he held her palm to his mouth, slowly caressing it. She could feel her breasts peaking in wanton delight.
‘Christy, I want you so much. Touch me…undress me…’
Which of them was it who was shaking as he transferred her hand to the front of his shirt, helping her to unfasten that first button? Beneath her fingertips his skin felt moist and burning hot. She felt him shudder finely as she slid her hand against his skin, stroking through the soft thickness of his body hair. He groaned deep in his throat, and with great daring she did what she had wanted to do from the first moment she had witnessed that small betraying gesture: she placed her mouth against the maleness of his throat and caressed it with the tip of her tongue.
His response to her went far beyond her wildest fantasies; never had she dared even once to imagine him going wild in her arms like this, responding to her, showing her how much he liked what she was doing.
The collar of his shirt impeded her progress down towards his shoulder and she unfastened the rest of the buttons, tugging the fabric away from him and pushing it off his skin.
She felt his fingers curl into her hair as she slowly caressed his body, taking her time as she savoured every inch of warm male flesh. Her fingertips stroked lightly along the line of body hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his suit, registering the taut firmness of his belly as her hand lingered possessively there.
She wanted to feel all of him against her without the barriers of any clothes, but shyness overwhelmed her. She had no experience in undressing men, and she was frightened of destroying the delicate spell they had woven around themselves with clumsy inexperience, so she simply let her hand lie flat against him as her mouth traced the hard muscles of his chest, and her tongue stroked tentatively against the pebble hardness of one flat male nipple.
She felt him move, pushing himself against her, his hands sliding to her hips and then down to her thighs before moving up again to slide under the edge of her satin briefs to cup the rounded softness of her bottom and pull her against him.
The tension invading her lower body was awesome and familiar. She had desired him like this before, but never with such immediate intensity. Logic and reason were totally suspended, only instinct prevailing.
‘I’ve got to feel you against me…all of you.’ Dominic muttered, releasing her and standing up.
She couldn’t look at him, but she heard the metallic sound of his zip, and the slither of cloth against flesh.
He came to her from the shadows of the fire, tautly male and the embodiment of all her feminine fantasies. Dark shadows concealed much of his body from her as he kneeled on the floor at her feet, cupping her instep in one hand while the other dealt with the fastenings of her stockings.
She could almost see his tension at her body’s unmistakable response to his touch, the look glittering darkly in his eyes as he raised them to her face, making her fear momentarily that he meant to tear what was left of her clothes from her and lay her bare to his gaze, but instead he undressed her slowly and painstakingly, his fingers a tormenting caress against the insides of her thighs as he slid down her stockings.
Her heart seemed to stand still in her breast as he lifted her to tug down her briefs, and she felt the heat of his breath against her skin.
At last, when they were both naked, he simply kneeled and stared at her until she was quivering with a mixture of self-consciousness and need. His hand reached out and caressed the curve of her throat and then slid down to her shoulder.
‘Just perfect,’ he murmured softly. ‘Perfect.’
And then, still kneeling before her, he took her in his arms and kissed her as she had dreamed of him kissing her, his mouth both tender and demanding; hungry for her and yet feeding her own need.
‘I want you so much. You have no idea.’ His mouth slid moistly over her throat, and caressed the fragile bones of her shoulder. His hands had found her breasts and were slowly caressing them. His mouth moved slowly, oh so slowly over her skin, until she was ready to cry out with need, and then she felt its warmth against the curve of her breast and she closed her eyes in a sudden agony of desire, digging her nails into his shoulder as she sought desperately for something to cling on to in the fierce maelstrom of delight that had seized her.
His tongue touched her nipple, gently circling the deep pink flesh before delicately brushing over it, making her cry ou
t in shocked delight.
‘I could almost believe that no one has ever touched you like this before.’
Dominic’s voice was dazed, drugged almost, and she clung to the aroused desirous sound of it rather than listening to the words. It seemed impossible to believe that he could not know how she felt about him, and that he was not just the first, but the only one.
‘Do you like that, Christy?’ His voice had a slurred, almost drunken quality to it now as his tongue caressed her nipple a little more roughly.
‘And this, do you like this?’ The words were almost lost as he pressed his open mouth against her aching flesh and then sucked fiercely on it. Spasms of pleasure arced through her, bringing soft cries of delight to her lips as she pushed herself eagerly against the hot demand of his mouth, abandoning herself to the sensuality of her own nature.
Over and over again Dominic caressed the aching peaks of her breasts until she was shivering with a surfeit of pleasure.
‘I should take you upstairs to bed,’ he told her hoarsely as he lifted her down to lie beside him in front of the fire, ‘but I can’t wait that long for you.’
She was the one in shadow now, while the firelight revealed the taut impatience of his body to her. She shivered, her eyes and hands drawn to the male perfection of his body, wanting to touch him, but almost afraid to do so.
‘God, yes, Christy…yes,’ he groaned against her mouth, seeing the desire in her eyes and taking her hand to place it against his body.
Beneath her fingers she could feel the fierce throb of male desire, and she gave herself up to letting him show her how he liked her to touch him.
‘I can’t stand much more of this. I want you too badly.’ His voice sounded hoarse and thick as though it had difficulty in escaping from his taut throat.
Her body welcomed the heavy weight of his as he moved her so that he could lie between her thighs. Her pulses hammered against her skin. She wanted him so much. She moved her hips, writhing impatiently against him, and heard him catch his breath. His hands moved over her body touching her…even in his extremity of need making sure that she really was ready for him, Christy recognised intuitively.