by Anne Mather
Dominic’s expression showed his satisfaction now. ‘So you are a virgin, in some ways,’ he murmured softly, and she caught her breath.
In lots of ways, she thought, wishing she had more experience in these matters. Wishing, too, that Dominic would take the rest of his clothes off. She felt too vulnerable, too exposed.
But Dominic seemed intent on robbing her of any dignity. Unbuttoning the waistband of her shorts, he pushed them down over her hips. Pushed her bikini briefs with them, she realised, feeling the cool draught of air against her skin.
‘Please…’ she protested, but Dominic only bent his head and nuzzled the flat plane of her stomach.
‘Let me,’ he said, his voice thickening, and she felt his fingers part the dusky curls at the apex of her legs and press intimately inside.
He felt her wetness, felt the little jerk she gave when he caressed her. And withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips.
‘Oh, Dominic,’ she choked and this time he seemed to understand her feelings.
‘Don’t stop me, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘You taste as delicious as you look.’
But then, as her eyes widened and hot colour stained her cheeks, he took pity on her. ‘OK, OK,’ he said, rolling onto his side beside her. Giving her a rueful grin, he quickly unbuckled his belt.
He pushed his trousers down his legs with no trace of embarrassment. He exposed long, powerful limbs, liberally spread with night-dark hair. And Cleo, watching him, was mesmerised by his maleness, by the thick shaft rising proudly from its nest of curling hair.
He was so big, she thought, her heartbeat accelerating. So big and hard and most definitely aroused. His erection reared its head and she swallowed uneasily. Was she really going to be woman enough for him?
A tiny drop of moisture sparkled on the tip of his erection, and Dominic saw her looking at it, looking at him.
‘Did I say I wanted you?’ he asked, bending to trace her lips with his tongue.
Then, capturing one of her hands, he closed it around his throbbing shaft. He kissed her again, feeling the innocent slide of her fingers, knowing just how close he was to the edge.
He sucked in a breath. ‘Well, let’s take that up a stretch,’ he said a little raggedly. Her hand was making its own exploration and he knew he couldn’t take much more.
He pulled her hair free of its confining band and pushed his hands into its vibrant texture. ‘I’m mad for you.’ He covered her cheeks and forehead with damp, urgent kisses. ‘I want to be inside you, a part of you. I don’t want to know where my body ends and yours begins.’
His mouth returned to hers, hot and demanding. And hers opened to him, her tongue seeking his in an eager mating dance. Then he drew back to trail kisses over her breasts and down her quivering body, the rough stubble of his jaw a sexual abrasive against her sensitive skin.
He felt her response in the way her body arched towards him. She didn’t hold back, but lifted one leg to wind it seductively about his thigh.
She moaned, an abandoned, sensual little sound that rocked his universe. He knew he’d never wanted any other woman as he wanted her.
When his tongue found her core, she shifted in protest. But without drawing back Dominic parted her womanly folds to reveal her bud, already swollen with need.
‘You—you can’t,’ she gasped, when he nudged her legs apart and she realised his intentions.
‘Oh, I can,’ he said hoarsely, tasting her essence. ‘You’re so ready for me.’ He felt her buck against him. ‘It would be so easy to make you come right now.’
Cleo knew it. Could feel her scattered senses urging him on.
But, ‘Not—not like this,’ she whispered, clutching handfuls of his hair, trying to drag him up to her. ‘Dominic, I want you. I want to feel you inside me. Not—not just your tongue.’
Dominic groaned. ‘I know,’ he said unsteadily, and with a reluctant sigh he moved over her again. ‘But you taste so good, I want more of it. More of everything. More of you.’
Her legs were parted and he slid his hands beneath her bottom to bring her closer. For a moment, she felt a sense of panic, remembering how big he was, wondering if she could do this.
But then, with an ease of movement she could only envy, he allowed his shaft to probe her moist entry. And then thrust smoothly into her slick sheath.
Her body expanded automatically. His thick erection stretched her and filled her with a completeness she’d never felt before.
She caught her breath and immediately he drew back to look down at her. ‘Did I hurt you?’ he demanded, but the sensual look in her eyes was answer enough.
‘No, you didn’t hurt me,’ she said huskily, framing his anxious face in her palms, brushing an erotic thumb across his lips. ‘It’s incredible. You’re incredible.’ Her tongue circled her lips. ‘Don’t—stop—now.’
‘As if I could,’ said Dominic a little unsteadily, feeling his body tight against her womb.
He drew back again and then rocked forward, pinning her to the mattress, the friction of their two bodies moving together a tantalising provocation.
But he couldn’t prolong the experience. Much as he would have liked to make this first consummation last forever it couldn’t be done. Cleo was too hot, too eager, too wickedly delicious to allow him to take his time.
She delighted him, she enchanted him, she taught him there was as much satisfaction in giving as to receive. His body felt as if it was on fire. The feeling was so intense, he felt there was a danger that they might both go up in flames.
His movements quickened as the urgency of the moment gripped him. Every time he was with this woman, he learned things about himself he’d never known before.
He felt the throbbing pulse of her body, felt the telltale shudder when her climax reached its peak. Felt her muscles clench around him, heard her moan with pleasure, felt the sensual rush of her release.
His own orgasm followed hers almost immediately, the shattering surge of his release arousing an anguished groan from him. His body shook as his seed drained from him, a heated flood that left him weak and trembling with relief.
Cleo’s head was spinning dizzily. It had been that way since Dominic started moving, since she’d felt the intimate brush of his pubic hair against her core.
The sensations he’d aroused she hadn’t known existed. The climax she’d experienced was like nothing she’d known before.
And she realised that where sex was concerned she was totally out of her depth.
Her body was shaking, still developing the pleasurable pangs of the aftermath of what had happened. Occasionally she felt a twitch deep inside her, felt the softening heat of Dominic’s shaft still buried to the hilt.
And remembered with another pang that they’d used no protection. She certainly hadn’t thought about it and she suspected it had been the last thing on Dominic’s mind when he’d penetrated her, flesh to flesh, skin to skin.
She shivered. It was just as well it wasn’t the time of the month when she might have conceived a child, she thought gratefully. It easily could have been, and she could have found herself in exactly the same position as her mother.
The thought was sobering, and with a little wriggle she attempted to get away from him.
But Dominic wasn’t asleep. She felt the instant hardening of his erection as he became aware of what she was trying to do.
‘Hey,’ he said huskily, cupping her face in his hand and rubbing his lips against hers. ‘Don’t go. I was just enjoying the sensation of lying here, anticipating my next move.’ His smile was lazily possessive. ‘Now, what do you think it should be?’
‘I don’t—that is, I have to go,’ said Cleo disjointedly. ‘Please—move, will you? I want to get up.’
‘And I don’t want you to get up,’ retorted Dominic, his green eyes darkening with obvious impatience. ‘I want to make love with you again.’ His thumb was rough against her lips. ‘All night, if I can make it.’
‘No—�
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‘What do you mean, no?’
Dominic sounded a little peeved now, and Cleo wished she didn’t have to do this. But it had gone far further than she had ever intended, and now she had to put an end to it.
‘I mean…’ She licked her lips, searching for the right words to tell him how she felt. ‘This has been really—really—’
‘Good? Mediocre? What?’ Dominic pushed himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. ‘Come on: tell it like it is, why don’t you?’
‘Oh, please…’ Cleo moaned. ‘OK, it was—wonderful,’ she admitted unwillingly, and then wished she hadn’t been so honest when he bent his head and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth.
‘Yeah, for me, too,’ he muttered, drawing back to caress her face with hungry eyes, and she felt him hardening inside her.
‘But…’
He blinked at the negative connotation. ‘But what?’
Cleo hesitated. ‘It was—good, better than good. But it can’t go on.’
‘Why not?’
His body was losing that instinctive response and she wished she didn’t have to do this.
‘You know why,’ she told him steadily. ‘Not least…’ She paused. ‘Please—don’t make me have to say her name.’
‘Sarah?’ Dominic scowled. ‘Of course, you mean Sarah.’
‘Who else?’ Cleo gave him a reproving look. ‘You can’t pretend she doesn’t exist.’
‘Lord!’ Dominic was impatient. ‘Do we have to talk about Sarah now?’ He blew out a breath. ‘You know what, I think you’re only using Sarah as an excuse. If you’re that desperate to get away from me, be my guest.’
Cleo stared at him for another significant moment. And then, taking him at his word, she gathered all her strength and scrambled out from under him.
Her sudden withdrawal was obviously unexpected, and Dominic rolled onto his back, his hand forming a protective shield for his maleness.
Meanwhile, Cleo hustled across the wide bed in a hasty effort to put some space between them.
Dominic scowled, turning his head to watch her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said harshly. ‘I’m not planning on jumping you, Cleo. For pity’s sake, we need to talk about this like adult human beings.’
‘Get our stories straight, do you mean?’ Cleo wasn’t mollified by his appeal. ‘Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s what your father must have told my mother.’
Dominic’s scowl was confused now. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘She was having an illicit relationship with your father,’ retorted Cleo painfully. ‘And in many ways, our relationship is the same.’
‘No, it’s not!’
Dominic hauled himself upright as he spoke, apparently giving up on his attempt to consider her modesty. His eyes were dark with anger as he stared at her and she quivered.
‘There’s nothing illicit about our relationship. For God’s sake, we’re two consenting adults. We don’t have to consider anyone but ourselves.’
‘You think?’ Cleo’s voice was tremulous. ‘I doubt if your mother would agree.’
‘My mother has nothing to do with this!’ he exclaimed savagely. ‘Cleo, I’m a man. I make my own decisions.’
‘I had noticed.’
Cleo sniffed again, shaking her head as she looked about her for her clothes. Finding her panties on the floor, she hurriedly put them on without looking at him. She’d never dressed in front of a man before and this was so much worse because of what had been said.
But she could hardly take refuge in his bathroom, even if she wanted to. Not when her clothes were strewn all over his bedroom floor.
‘Cleo, please!’
‘There’s nothing more to say,’ she said, rescuing her vest and pulling it over her head.
Her hair was all over the place, but at least she was covered. She spied her shorts lying on the floor at the foot of the bed and snatched them up with some relief.
‘Like hell!’
Dominic’s anger was obviously growing. He was sitting on the edge of the bed glaring at her, and she couldn’t help thinking how sad this whole situation had become.
But why should she expect anything else? She’d broken the rules and now she had to pay for it. It was Sarah she should be feeling sorry for, not herself.
‘Cleo,’ Dominic began again, ‘don’t do this to me.’ He drew a breath. ‘Come on, stay with me tonight.’
‘You know I can’t.’ Hopping from one foot to the other, Cleo struggled to put on her shorts without falling over. ‘It was good while it lasted, but don’t let’s pretend it was anything more than sex. Pure and simple.’
‘There was nothing pure about it,’ retorted Dominic. ‘It wasn’t simple either. Not as far as I’m concerned. It was damn complicated. It is damn complicated. Do you think I intended this to happen?’
‘Do you think I did?’ Cleo gasped indignantly. Her fingers stumbled in their attempt to fasten the button at her waist and she muttered a frustrated exclamation. ‘Dammit! Dammit! This wasn’t my idea.’
‘No, it was mine.’
Dominic’s tone had gentled, but in her haste to get her shorts on, she barely noticed. However, she had moved nearer to the bed, and now Dominic leant towards her and hooked his fingers into her waistband.
‘Don’t fasten that,’ he said a little thickly, pulling her resisting body between his legs. ‘Let me take them off again so you can come back to bed.’
‘No!’
Despite the languor that had gripped her as soon as she was close to his naked body again, Cleo managed to overcome it.
Twisting away, she paused when there was some distance between them, and said, ‘I want to go back to Magnolia Hill.’ She was amazed at the determination in her voice. ‘You—you said you’d take me back.’
‘Yeah, I did, didn’t I?’
Dominic closed his eyes for a long minute. She was right, he thought wearily. He had promised to drive her home. But, dammit, that was before she’d completely blown his mind.
‘Cleo, sweetheart—’
He made one final attempt to appeal to her, but she wasn’t interested.
‘Don’t call me that.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘Are you going to get dressed or do I have to call a cab?’
‘Well, good luck with that.’ Dominic’s tone was dry. ‘I don’t know any cab drivers on San Clemente who’ll turn out after midnight.’
Cleo couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be after midnight. But it was.
The little ormolu clock standing on the cabinet beside the bed showed the time as twenty minutes past the hour. She had been away from Magnolia Hill since a little before nine o’clock.
Turning back to Dominic, she placed bravely defiant hands on her hips. ‘OK, it’s late. So—are you going to take me or do I have to walk?’
Dominic shook his head. ‘Like you’d risk walking the better part of six miles in the dark,’ he scoffed. ‘Even if you knew which way to go—which you don’t.’
‘I could always try going back the way I came,’ she retorted staunchly. ‘The tide has probably turned by now.’
‘You think?’
Her shoulders abruptly sagged. ‘Oh, come on,’ she said despairingly. ‘Please, Dominic. Don’t make me have to beg.’
Dominic’s features lost all expression.
With a grim shrug of his shoulders, he got up from the bed. And, although she made a squeaky little sound and leapt back out of his way, he didn’t even look at her.
Opening a drawer, he pulled out a pair of cargo shorts and yanked them, commando-style, up his legs. He used his zip but left the button at his waist unfastened. Then, without bothering with a shirt, he nodded pointedly towards the door.
‘After you.’
Swallowing the sob that rose in her throat at his sudden coldness, Cleo preceded him from the room. She was halfafraid he might still try to stop her.
Half-afraid he wouldn’t.
He didn’t.
Barefoot, he led the way
across an atrium-roofed foyer to the front doors of the house.
Muted ceiling lights gave the huge reception area a warmly elegant appearance, but Cleo scarcely noticed. She was too wrapped up in her own emotions, her own misery.
This was so much worse than she’d even imagined. Her heart was beating so fast, yet her feet wanted to drag.
She didn’t want to leave him, she acknowledged bitterly. She wanted to stay, to be with him. To spend the rest of the night making love with him.
She loved him.
The realisation struck her like a blow to the solar plexus. And it terrified her.
After all her efforts to deny it, to tell herself she’d never do what her mother had done, she’d fallen in love with him.
Oh, she was such a fool!
Dominic didn’t love her.
He wanted her. She believed that. But wanting wasn’t the same as needing someone, and what had just happened had proved it.
Chapter Fourteen
‘IS IT possible for you to arrange for me to go home? Today, preferably.’
It was the next morning and, after making certain enquiries, Cleo had found her way to Serena’s apartments.
The older woman had bid her enter her suite, evidently expecting it to be one of the servants. Her eyes had widened considerably when she’d seen Cleo.
‘To go home?’ she echoed. In a thin silk negligee, Serena had been having breakfast on her balcony. But she’d left the table to answer the door. ‘I…Does my father know about this?’
‘No one knows,’ said Cleo flatly. ‘And I wanted to make all the arrangements before I tell Jacob.’ She paused. ‘I suspect he won’t want me to go, but—’
‘You suspect!’ The emphasis in Serena’s voice was much different from her own. ‘Cleo, you know he won’t agree to this. He wants you to stay here.’
‘Well, I can’t.’ Cleo was determined. ‘I’m sorry. I’m going to miss him—miss all of you,’ she added a little ruefully. ‘But you do understand, don’t you? I have my own life. In England.’
Serena’s brows drew together. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything.’ Cleo licked her dry lips. ‘I think you know, as well as anyone, that my staying here would never have worked.’