Heath hesitated, battling with himself. He already knew he wanted much more than she was willing to give. He’d made the quip to Alexander about marrying her to provoke the older man, but it surprised him how attractive he found the idea of staying with her. He wanted to date this woman, take her out, spend time getting to know her, fall in love with her. Hell, he was already in love with her, who was he kidding? She intrigued him, with her strange blend of confident archaeologist and shy, nervous woman.
But she didn’t want anything more with him. Or she didn’t think she did. Something had happened in her past, something he had yet to discover, and it had scarred her for life, making her think she had to hide herself away, making her afraid to let her emotions be touched. He was going to have to show her there could be more between them than just sex.
He watched Cat dancing, desire flooding his veins like a drug. After they’d finished tonight, she was going to walk away from him, and if he wasn’t careful, she’d talk herself out of ever seeing him again. She’d convinced herself he was bad for her. And clearly Alexander wasn’t going to be any help. Persuading her to see him again wouldn’t be easy.
But Heath was a man used to getting what he wanted.
He’d have to have to tread lightly, and be sneakier than he’d ever been before. The Silver Fox was really going to have to work for what he wanted this time. He was going to have to hook her before he reeled her in. And if he had to do it one sexual encounter at a time, then he’d do it that way.
Chapter 14
Cat stopped in her tracks when she turned and saw Heath standing in the doorway, watching her. He’d crossed his arms, he wasn’t smiling, and his hazel eyes were very intense. He pushed himself off the doorframe and began to walk toward her, and her heart rate increased. He reminded her of a panther, padding across the carpet; prowling. She backed away until her legs met the bed, the momentum causing her to sit down with a bump.
He studied her for a moment, still not smiling, and then walked around the bed to the telephone. She watched him, puzzled.
He picked up the receiver and pushed the button for reception, then waited for a moment, his eyes on her. “Hello? Yes, can I order some room service please? A bottle of champagne—yes that will be fine—and…some chocolate ice cream. Yes. With extra chocolate sauce, please.”
Cat’s eyes widened as she remembered what he’d promised to do with the sauce. He replaced the receiver and walked back around the bed to stand in front of her. He took her hands and pulled her up. He still wasn’t smiling. The look in his eyes was desire, hot and neat, like fine whisky. She tried to think of something to say, something amusing to break the tension, but for once her mind had gone blank and she could only stare up at him, swallowing nervously.
Reaching around her, he unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She covered her breasts self-consciously, but he slid his arms around her. Then his mouth was on hers, and she inhaled deeply, slipping her fingers up into his hair, pressing herself against him.
He kissed her for a full minute before lifting his head, and moving closer to her, his eyes dark with passion. It forced her to step back, but the bed was behind her and she fell backward again, bouncing on the mattress.
“Lie down,” he instructed.
She did so, her heart hammering. He walked over to his night bag and retrieved something, then came back over to her. A long, silk tie trailed from his fingers.
He paused in front of her. “Move up a bit.”
She shuffled up the bed, but her mouth had gone dry with nerves. “Heath…”
He climbed onto the bed and sat astride her, then bent his head and kissed her briefly. “It’s only me. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Er, no.”
Laughing, he took her right wrist and looped the tie around it. “You promised me, the next time we’d do it my way.”
“Um… I don’t remember promising anything.”
He smiled, but didn’t say anything. Taking her hands, he raised them above her head, hooking the tie through one of the slats of the headboard before placing the other end around her left wrist.
She wasn’t sure she liked feeling so vulnerable. Her heart pounded. “Heath, seriously…”
“Relax.” He kissed her. “You can get out any time you want. It’s symbolic, that’s all.”
She looked up at her wrists. He’d slipped the ends of the tie in a simple, tight loop around each one, but hadn’t knotted it. One determined wriggle and she’d be able to free her hands. She looked back at him. “Well, you’d never make it as a Viking.”
He lay beside her, looking deep into her eyes. “I want you to give yourself over to me. Let me pleasure you. Pretend you’re letting me have my wicked way.” He stroked her cheek. “But you’re in control. You’re letting it happen. I’ll stop any time you want.” He kissed her. “But you won’t want me to.”
“Oh…” Such strong emotion washed over her that it nearly made her cry. How did he know her so well? How did he understand she desperately wanted to explore her sexuality, but was afraid of giving up control of her body? That she wanted fun, excitement, and passion, without commitment, without complications?
She cleared her throat. “Well, you’re a regular Rasputin, aren’t you?”
“Slightly less mad, I hope.”
“If the cap fits…”
He trailed a finger down between her breasts. “Rasputin believed in yielding to temptation in order to proceed to repentance and ultimately salvation.”
“He also stood drunk at the front of a Saint Petersburg restaurant and waved his dick at the diners,” she pointed out.
He gave a short laugh. “You’re the most unromantic girl I’ve ever met, do you know that?”
“I don’t know the first thing about romance, Heath. I’m sorry.”
“We’re not born knowing, sweetheart. Romance doesn’t just happen—you have to work at it. And maybe I can help there.” He lowered his head, touching his lips to hers.
He kissed her slowly, softly. His palm rested on her abdomen, warm and reassuring. Her cheeks grew hot, although she wasn’t sure why. He lifted his head. Once again, she felt herself lost for words at the intriguing blend of tenderness and desire in his eyes. What was it about this man that dismantled the speech centre of her brain?
Someone knocked at the door, and he got off the bed and walked over. For a brief second she panicked that Alex had returned but then she heard Heath talking and realised it was only room service. Still, she fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling exposed lying there naked, her arms above her head.
Within seconds he was back, though, and he put the champagne in its ice bucket on the table, then came over to the bed and climbed onto it, a dish in his hands. Placing it on the bedside table, he stripped off his shirt, trousers, and socks, and then sat next to her in his boxers, legs crossed. He took a mouthful of the ice cream. “Hey, this is good. You want some?”
She shook her head, trying not to stare at his tanned, muscular thighs with their scattering of light brown hair. “I don’t like chocolate, remember?”
“Oh, yes.” He took another mouthful. “Actually it’s really good. I might just sit here and eat the whole lot.” His eyes twinkled at the look on her face, and he laughed, stretching out beside her.
He dipped the spoon in the ice cream, mischievously touching her nose with it, then grinned, leaning over her to lick it off slowly. He touched the spoon to her cheeks, then her lips, licking the ice cream off each time. Next, he dipped the spoon in and held it over her body. Trails of cold chocolate laced across her skin, making her squeal. “Heath!”
He laughed, put the bowl aside, and leaned over. Slowly, languorously, he began to lick her clean.
He slid long strokes of his tongue up her abdomen, then circled her breasts, his tongue warm and soft, making her squirm and sigh alternately. More sauce followed, and he smiled impishly when he concentrated the swirls on her nipples. She held her breath as he covered them with his
mouth, sucking and licking them clean.
She’d never, ever felt like this in her life. Her heart pounded and her breathing came more quickly as he began to trail sauce and kisses down her body, skimming her hips and going all the way down her legs to her feet. He moved to the end of the bed, and she wriggled and laughed as he laced chocolate between her toes, sucking them clean.
Then, slowly, he began to kiss up her thigh.
When he reached the top and his lips brushed her pubic hair, she gasped, instinctively jerking upright, forgetting he’d tied her hands. The tie was tight enough to halt her movement, and she lay back, her heart beating frantically. He stopped, raising his head to watch her, but she couldn’t look at him.
She stared up at the ceiling instead, her hands tightening on the loops around her wrists. He said nothing, but stroked her thigh gently, comforting her and planting the occasional kiss as he waited for her to relax.
She forced herself to remember his words. You’re in control. You’re letting it happen. I’ll stop any time you want. She could slip her hands out of the loops now and push him away. He wouldn’t argue with her, wouldn’t make fun of her. It was her decision. He wasn’t forcing this on her.
I want you to give yourself over to me. Let me pleasure you. His gentle reassurance echoed in her mind. He wasn’t trying to control her, humiliate her, or make fun of her. He genuinely wanted her to enjoy this.
Her heart hammered, but she forced herself not to move. He continued to place soft kisses on her thighs, his tongue tracing the skin occasionally, making her shiver. You trust me, don’t you? In the archaeological world, he was the Silver Fox, and she didn’t trust that sneaky bastard an inch. But here, in the bedroom, he was just Heath, gentle and loving, funny and kind. And she did trust him.
She closed her eyes. She’d read about oral sex, seen it on the movies. She desperately wanted to try it for herself.
Taking a deep breath, she made herself let it out slowly.
Heath paused. He placed another kiss on her thigh. When she didn’t react, he moved slightly higher up. He reached for the ice cream again and drizzled chocolate on her hip, licked it clean, then trailed more across her flat stomach to the other hipbone, his tongue following. He moved leisurely, letting her adjust to each new sensation. He brushed her pubic hair with his lips, sending shivers of pleasure through her.
Slowly, he moved her legs up, pushing them wider apart. She bit her lip, fighting every instinct that told her to sit up and move away. The spoon clinked in the bowl and she screwed up her eyes, jumping slightly as the cold sauced trickle right into her most intimate parts. “Jeez, Heath!” she exclaimed, not knowing whether it was the cold or the thought of what he was about to do that was making her shiver.
He chuckled, replaced the spoon and lowered the bowl onto the carpet. He hesitated for a moment. Then, finally, he brushed his warm tongue right through the central, hot core of her.
She gasped, feeling as if she’d fallen into a deep, warm bath. Her whole body glowed with warmth. The sensations threading through her were like nothing she’d ever experienced. He explored gently with his mouth, licking and sucking lightly, then firmly, teeth grazing, the stubble on his chin occasionally brushing her thighs.
She couldn’t believe she was letting a man do something so personal, so intimate to her. This is a mistake! she thought desperately. Not because it wasn’t nice. But because it was like eating from the tree in the Garden of Eden. Surely once she’d let a man do this, she’d want him to do it again. Because she’d never guessed it would be so wonderful, so incredibly exquisite.
But she couldn’t bring herself to stop him.
It wasn’t long before the welcome bliss of an orgasm began to bloom like a flower opening up inside her, the delicious warmth budding low in her stomach before blossoming throughout her like the rose he’d talked about earlier, and as she came, his hands were warm on her thighs, and his mouth was hot and gentle.
Chapter 15
As the tremors inside her died down and her heart rate began to return to normal, Heath shifted on the bed, moving up beside her. She shook one hand free of the tie and covered her face with her arm, scarlet with passion and embarrassment. He propped his head on a hand, trailing his fingers lazily across her abdomen, seemingly content to wait until she was ready to talk.
Slowly, he began to kiss the arm lying across her face, pressing his mouth into her palm, licking her fingers, until she gave a small laugh and finally moved it away. He kissed her lips, and she giggled. “You’re all sticky.”
“I wonder why.”
She ran her fingers over her stomach, pulling a face. “I’m going to stick to the sheets.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you like that. Come on, in the shower with you.”
She sat up and released her other hand from the tie, looking pointedly at the tent that had formed in his boxers. He pulled her to her feet and said, “Well, what did you expect after what I’ve just done?”
Pleasure rippled through her at his words. He’d enjoyed satisfying her. The thought made her glow. She let him lead her over to the bathroom, feeling sleepy and sticky. He turned the shower on and kissed her as he waited for the water to heat up before opening the door.
He went out for a moment and came back with the box of condoms. She arched an eyebrow. “Well I’m sticky too,” he pointed out. He removed his boxers, followed her into the cubicle and closed the door behind him. “And I’ve got eleven condoms burning a hole in my pocket. Well, my metaphorical pocket.”
She backed up to the tiles and looked up at him. “There’s not a lot of room.”
“We’ll have to huddle up.” He ducked his head under the water and ran a hand through his wet hair, smoothing it back. Then he took the soap from the dish. He put his arms around her, and she could feel him turning it over in his hands behind her back, working up a lather.
She looked up at him, and he smiled and winked at her. He was so gorgeous he took her breath away. She wanted to say something witty and amusing, but once again, he seemed to have extracted her ability to put one word after another.
For the first time since she’d met him, she realised just how tall and broad shouldered he was. In Sweden, they’d been encased in bulky outerwear, and then they’d got into bed before she’d had much chance to admire his body. Earlier in the bedroom, she’d been wearing three-inch heels, and they hadn’t taken the time to remove their clothes. Now, he towered over her, and he seemed to fill the small cubicle, his arms surprisingly powerful, his chest wide with well-defined muscles. He was so gentle and unassuming—she hadn’t noticed he was so…well…magnificent.
“How tall are you?” she asked.
“Six three.” He looked down at her. “How short are you?”
“I’ve five nine and a half, thank you very much—I’m hardly short for a girl.”
“I hear that half inch is very important.” Laughing at her mock glare, he put the soap down. “Now, then.” He placed his hands on her breasts and she arched an eyebrow. He grinned. “They’re sticky.”
“Then you’d better wash them.”
“That was my dastardly scheme all along.”
She caught her breath as he slid his slippery hands across her skin, brushing her nipples. Stepping closer, he kissed her for a while, gently washing her clean, running his hands up her body, along her arms, down her back, and then returning to her breasts. As she’d already been aroused before they’d even walked into the cubicle, it wasn’t long before she sighed and grabbed the soap, then started on him; washing his body, enjoying the feel of his muscles under her fingers.
Her hands gradually worked lower and grazed his thighs, slipping between them. She closed her fingers around his erection, sliding her hand up and down, but he pushed her away, giving her a warning look. Reaching out of the shower, he took a condom from the box.
“I’ll do it,” she said. Eager to try it, she took it from him and rolled it carefully down his firm length, making
him groan.
He caught her hands. “For God’s sake, woman. I’m only human.” He turned her around and placed her hands on the tiles, resting his hands either side of hers on the wall. He moved closer, his erection hard against her butt, and nuzzled her ear. “Open your legs, sweetheart. Lean forward.”
She did so, widening her stance, heart thumping at the new position. The water trickled between them, hot on her skin. He slid his erection between her legs and brushed it against her sensitive lips, and she closed her eyes with pleasure. She moved backward and forward, arousing herself on him, and he sighed, holding her hips, stopping her.
“My way,” he said firmly. “We’re going to take this really, really slow.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted.
“Come on,” he murmured, moving so the tip of him nuzzled into her. “Work with me. If we only have tonight, I want to make this last. Let’s see if we can make two minutes.”
She giggled, then sighed as he slid slowly into her. She could tell by his groan that she was wet and swollen.
Deep inside her, he ran his hands slowly up from her hips, brushing her waist and her ribcage, coming forward to cup her breasts.
“Ah,” she said. “I can see the benefits of this position.”
He leaned his left hand on the tiles and slid his right hand down between her legs. “Oh yeah.” He began to move, very slowly, taking the time to stroke her in between each gentle thrust. “Your skin’s beautiful. Soft and silky, like satin.”
“Yours is like polished wood—it’s gorgeous.” It was true; braced beside her, his arm looked like it had been carved out of oak and buffed to a sheen. Why hadn’t she realised in Sweden how gorgeous his body was? Of course, the water and the steam weren’t helping with the sensuality factor. It heightened all her senses, made everything blurry and erotic.
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