Hanging from the dollies above the plinth were three massive chandeliers from which acrobats were suspended, and they too began to move in a series of gyrations, spinning and twisting as they swung from one bar to another in a dizzying spectacle.
Oh. And they were all half naked. Half naked and—
She sucked in a sharp breath and Finn leaned over.
‘You okay?’
‘Mmm...’ It came out like a groan, because where Finn had made her hot and bothered seconds before the show, now she was burning up. The fiery one.
‘You want to leave?’
‘Absolutely—’ She had to take another breath as one of the female performers wrapped her legs around her partner, locked groins tight and bent backwards to the floor, as if he were sliding inside her, as if...
‘Okay, let’s go.’
‘—not. No, I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here. A tornado whipping through the room wouldn’t move me as much as this. It’s... They...they’re beautiful.’
Dancing, whirling, bending—the women were incredible acrobats, so much femininity and strength all rolled into one stunning blend.
‘So strong,’ she whispered in awe.
‘They have to be. Strong-willed to train so gruellingly. Strong-minded to hold their positions, trust in their abilities. Believe in their talent. But elegant and graceful at the same time.’
Yes, and all the while remaining strong of heart, body and soul. No shame, only dazzling radiance.
Still staring at the stage, her mind spun. ‘What are you getting at, Finn?’
‘Maybe I’m just pointing out that being a woman doesn’t render you weak, and being strong or unique doesn’t make you less feminine.’
She didn’t see all women as weak. Did she? Then again, she’d never known many women. Only her dad’s bits of fluff, and they all seemed desperate somehow. Serena had watched them, thinking how bizarre they all were, flitting to and fro, trying to make her dad happy, in the idiotic assumption he would keep them. Desperate. Weak. But wholly feminine. Had she subconsciously knitted the two together?
Finn had told her she was feminine. His words, ‘Of course you are... In your own unique way...’ came back to her. She’d taken them as a kind of insult, but at the same time had longed for him to mean it. Despite or perhaps because of the shoe-slipper debacle.
Finn saw far more than what met the eye. Behind the celebrity persona he had a depth of intensity and an intelligence that astounded and intrigued her.
‘People underestimate you, Finn,’ she murmured, and the show continued all around them, just as the world still spun, ignorant of the seismic shift inside of her.
Seismic since she suspected that he was not only right but that her issues ran far deeper. Too deep for her to delve into that gorge right now.
‘Always a bad idea,’ he said, with an arrogance that made her smile.
With her gaze glued to the sinuous, serpentine movements on stage, she could feel him staring at her.
‘It’s enthralling, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely mesmerising,’ he said, still watching her.
‘Provocative,’ she whispered.
‘A unique kind of sensuality.’
Her heart did a trapeze artist flip in her chest. In Monaco he’d said similar words to her.
Unable to resist a moment longer, she turned to look at him.
Face flushed, he licked his lips, as if his mouth was over-dry.
‘Finn...?’ she breathed. ‘Aren’t you going to watch?’
‘I am watching, baby. The only thing worth looking at.’
Whoosh. Her heart did another flip. Three somersaults and a free fall. And just like that she struggled to breathe.
Before she knew it her eyes had closed and she leaned forward, needing his mouth on hers so badly her entire body ached—and that was nothing compared to the flood of moisture low in her pelvis, the incessant clench demanding satisfaction.
French vocals drifted on the air—a sultry line that enhanced the suggestive notes pluming around them:
Would you like to sleep with me tonight?
Another Serena might have asked—a braver version, one who was confident enough to know she could satisfy a man like him, one who knew she’d feel no regrets in the morning. The real Serena couldn’t guarantee any of that.
His warm breath trickled over her lips, yet intuition told her he wouldn’t close the ever-so-small gap—a virtual Grand Canyon, considering the past that lay between them and all the reasons for them to rebuff this weird and wonderful attraction and simply walk away.
Just the thought that he might take the decision from her kicked her doubts to the kerb and she prised her eyes wide.
His eyes were as dark as midnight, glittering like the stars above, and from nowhere she found the strength to move in, close that gap, lick over his full bottom lip and then bite down to tease with a gentle tug.
Lust...
Finn growled.
Heat...
‘Back off, Serena.’
More. Another lick. Another soft suck. Another tender bite. He returned it with sharp yet gentle teeth, then kissed away the sting, causing her to shiver and the deep ache in her body to spike.
‘You really want me to take you right here?’ he rasped.
That stopped her.
Visibly shaken, her hand trembled as she brushed the hair from her sticky nape and leaned back in her seat. Her sensitive breasts chafed against the cotton of her plain bra and she had to stifle a whimper.
Who knew how long she sat there, her lower body contracting around thin air, while a surge of mortification because she couldn’t control her own body inched her anger levels up the charts?
Intermission hit and, unknowing what to say, what to do, feeling seven kinds of stupid that she couldn’t make light of the fact that she was teetering on the edge of an orgasm or handle it in some practised feminine way, she launched to her feet.
‘I’m going to the Ladies’.’
And she shot through the crowd at a fast clip.
She had to cool off and there was only one way to do it. As far away from Finn St George as she could possibly get.
CHAPTER NINE
‘DON’T GET A fright,’ Finn murmured, taking a tentative step closer to where she stood in the dark corridor that led to the plush offices at the rear of the tent. How she’d found her way around here he wasn’t sure, but for the six minutes it had taken to find her he’d never felt so ill in his life.
Seemingly ignorant of the shadows enveloping her, Serena faced the wall, her head bent forward, brow kissing the evocative red plaster, as her supple body shook violently.
His heart hammering, his insides writhing in a chaotic mess, Finn braced his hands on either side of her head, then buried his face in her neck and inhaled a sweet burst of summer fruits—a scent that pacified, a taste that he’d come to associate with her. One he would never forget. One he wanted to lap right up.
He nuzzled up to her ear. ‘Let me take the edge off, baby.’
He shouldn’t have brought her here. She was burning. He’d never seen anything like it. Or felt anything like it. He was going insane with lust. Yet he had no intention of taking his pleasure from her. For once in his life he was going to be unselfish. Give instead of take. Douse her fire well and good.
For a second he thought she’d refuse, and despite knowing it was probably for the best he felt his guts twist tight. And then she turned and, bam, her mouth was on his, and she was twining her arms around his neck and thrusting into his mouth.
Just like that his largesse slipped a gear. Aw, man, this was not good. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. Much, much harder if the erection that strained against his zipper was anything to go
by.
Grateful that she’d found her way round to this section of the tent, Finn picked her up, wrapped her legs round his waist and carried her straight into his friend Zane’s office, thanking fate that he’d passed the man only moments ago and orchestrated thirty minutes of privacy.
He kicked the door shut behind them and braced her against it, his lips never leaving her mouth as he rolled his hips against her heat to create the friction she needed.
His little tigress moaned and purred around his lips, thrust her hands into his hair and held on while he took her on the ride of her life.
‘Finn, Finn, Finn...’
‘It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’ll get you over.’
‘I don’t like this. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s never been this way before.’
The words poured out on a rush but he got the general gist. Sex didn’t usually flip her switch. Bastard that he was, he revelled in that.
‘This doesn’t feel normal,’ she whimpered.
‘I know, beautiful.’ Nowhere near normal.
Which was the entire problem. He was feeling things. Desperation, need, a want like no other. A bone-deep fervour to protect, to satisfy her every craving, her every wish, to make her come over and over until her cries of ecstasy filled his mouth. To give her the world and the stars beyond. Too much. It was all just too damn much.
Holding her up with one hand, he smoothed around her small waist, then un-popped the button of her jeans. Her piercing teased and tormented his fingers and he growled as his flesh turned to granite. Keep it together...keep it together. What are you? A virgin?
He wanted in, and the angle was all wrong, so with a light squeeze of her deliciously pert rear he loosened his hold and splayed his hand beneath the T-shirt on her back to keep her close. The touch of her fevered skin was like an electrical charge up his arm.
What he wouldn’t do to have a good, long look at the body that had featured so prominently in his dreams. To claw at her clothes and tear her panties off with his teeth.
Serena shimmied to the floor, snatching kisses as if she never wanted to leave his mouth, and burrowed under his polo shirt, making him sweat.
Okay, then. She wasn’t the patient type. Which was dangerous with a capital D because he was—it was the only way to stay in control.
‘Slow—slow down, baby.’
She had to slow down. Before he buried himself in her dewy heat and lost himself inside her.
‘Oh, God, this is so good,’ she moaned.
‘You knew I would be.’
‘Arrogant man.’
With great pains he managed to focus on her luscious mouth and devour her, trying his hardest to focus as he slowly but surely eased the waistband of her jeans down her hips and encountered some lacy girly version of boxer shorts.
Oh, man, he was a goner. ‘I have to look.’
‘Now, where have I heard that before?’ she panted.
Finn pulled back and ripped her hoodie and her T-shirt over her head; his temples were pounding, his blood was pounding, his erection was pounding. Everything was pounding.
Her jeans were rucked around mid-thigh, her biker boots sculpted her calves and those subtle curves were making his vision swim. Then he was seeing red... Red? Bra and panties. Closet girl, that was what she was.
‘Red,’ he growled.
His first thought was, She’s perfect. His second thought was, Oh, hell, she’s perfect.
Lamplight spilled over the room and he could just make out the lustrous tone of her ivory skin dusted with freckles. He wanted to lie her down and count them all, give them names and kiss every one. He wanted to crush her to him and hold on tight. And from nowhere came the senseless idea that he could be a one-woman-forever man, that she could trust him always.
With defcon speed he ruthlessly shut the notion down. He was never taking the risk of hurting her. He’d already done too much of that already and she didn’t know half of it.
‘Stop staring at me!’
‘No chance.’ He was looking and she was going to learn to like it, to know how seriously sexy she was.
He cursed blue to get his point across. Lots of the F-word and gorgeouses and sexys flying out of his mouth at two hundred miles per hour.
Then he kissed her hard, to back up every word with a truckload of ardour just in case she wasn’t getting the point. And with each thrust of his tongue and every swivel of his hips desire mounted, until her rapture created a cloud of erotic fervour and her rich arousal plumed in the air.
Oh, man, he wanted to bite her, mark her, brand her like the animal he was inside.
Hand splayed, he rubbed his palm over her piercing and sank it beneath her shorts, delving to touch her hot heat.
A tortured moan filled the air. His. Hers. Theirs.
She was slick and swollen with want, and when her hips bucked, moisture trickled down his finger.
‘Serena...’ he groaned, tormenting her with a good dose of exquisite friction.
Gingerly he peeled one shoulder strap down her upper arm, and when her perfect C’s popped free the room spun as if he was on a whirly top. They were like works of art. Firm but soft. Each underswell lush and round and topped with a dusky rose nipple.
‘You’re so beautiful, Serena.’
Taste—he simply had to taste her.
Finn cupped her breast and trailed his mouth down her neck. The anticipation of reaching her tight nipple thrummed through his blood, and when he flicked his tongue over the taut peak and simultaneously pushed one finger deep inside of her, a keening cry ripped from her throat.
This was agonising. He wanted her. All of her.
Hot little pants escaped her mouth and the sight of her teeth buried in her bottom lip sent another jolt through him. When he closed his lips over her puckered flesh and sucked, the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making him hard enough to penetrate steel.
As if she’d lost the ability to hold her head high, Serena tipped it back to smack the wall. ‘Oh. My. Life. Finn...!’
He sank his finger deeper inside her body, this time a little harder, and felt her tight walls close in, grab onto him.
He had a big problem here—a huge problem. And if he wasn’t careful he would explode in his hipsters. She was so tight.
‘Been a long time baby?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’
She was petite to start with, and the way he was sized he would snap her in two. Not an issue. You’re not going there. It still didn’t stop him from imagining the sensation, the hedonistic pleasure, of spreading her across Zane’s desk and licking her from head to foot before he plunged deep inside her slick channel.
Her hips pivoted in time to his rhythm and she grabbed his shoulders and arched her back, seeking deeper penetration.
‘More?’ He pushed a second finger to join the first and she spasmed around him, saying his name over and over with soft, heated, anguished cries of ecstasy.
Keep it together. Don’t lose it. Don’t you dare.
With one last light squeeze of her breast Finn skimmed up and over her collarbone to rub her bottom lip, back and forth. Then he pushed his index finger inside her hot moist mouth at the same time as he thrust his two fingers deep and thumbed her sweet spot to tease out her pleasure.
Plunge and stroke, here and there, until she writhed and swirled her tongue around his finger. Holy... And when he touched her nipple with a nice long lave of his tongue...
She broke, splintered, shattered, coming long and hard, spasm after spasm racking her body. The walls of her femininity closed in, squeezing his fingers as she flew apart at the seams, clamping violently in a stunning erotic symphony.
Sweat trickled down his spine, making the tight, scarred skin of his back itch. Hold it together. Hold it.<
br />
As she tumbled from the heights of bliss, rolling in wonder and passion and exhilaration, Finn leaned his forehead against hers, jaw locked, his total focus on willing the erection bursting out of the top of his jeans to chill out. Willing his body not to come just from watching her orgasm.
He needed air. Now. He was shaking from head to foot and his teeth were clamped so tight he nearly cracked a molar.
‘Finn?’ she breathed.
‘Give me a minute.’ He squeezed his eyes shut.
Her small hand slipped off his shoulder, smoothed down his chest, and didn’t stop until she cupped his erection through his jeans.
He hissed out a choice curse. ‘Careful, beautiful.’ He placed his hand over hers to lift it to his mouth and kiss her palm. ‘This can’t happen between us, Serena. For starters, I haven’t got a condom.’ He sounded a hoarse, desperate man. Very true, that.
‘It’s already started, Finn.’ Back down she went, fingering his jeans. ‘I’m safe. You’re clean, right?’ She began to rip his belt buckle free.
Once more he tugged her hand away, knowing he’d never make it a third time.
‘Serena, I’ve never had sex without a condom in my life.’
This could not happen. He needed a condom. It would be too close. Too intimate. Too everything.
Without a barrier he’d lose it. Lose himself. Inside her. He would mark her. Brand her. Have real trouble letting her go.
‘We’re stopping before we go too far.’ There. That should do it. He sounded forceful and arrogant and domineering. And just so he could cut off the screenplay in his head he hitched up her bra strap and veiled her gorgeous breasts.
‘Don’t you want to sleep with me, Finn? Be inside me?’
He groaned long and low, never having wanted anything more in his entire life. Right now an endless reel played in his head. She was so utterly perfect for him. But he was not the man for her.
In another life he would think he’d finally found The One. If he’d been a different man. If he’d made different choices and hadn’t caused so much pain. Pain he knew he’d eventually cause her again. He was too selfish. Unreliable.
The Woman Sent to Tame Him Page 11