by Abby Green
‘Please don’t …’
Luc ignored the way his chest tightened at that plea and those huge eyes as he came close enough to form a cage around Jesse, with his arms either side of her. She was pale, with two spots of pink in each cheek, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He couldn’t stop now, because this was exactly how he wanted her: trembling and vulnerable.
He needed to establish some control, and he wanted to stamp some dominance onto this whole scenario. But curiously, as he stared into those stormy grey eyes, all those iron-clad intentions seemed to fade away … and what he wanted was much less coherent.
Luc snaked a hand around the back of Jesse’s head, fingers massaging her neck, tangling in luxuriously soft, silky hair. He cupped her skull, feeling how fragile it was and desire surged in his body. He could feel the tremors going through her legs against his chest, and suddenly overriding everything became a need to soothe. He was a little blindsided by how much he wanted to put her at ease—and it wasn’t just about the endgame. Something more was happening. It was as if he sensed a deep vulnerability within her.
He heard himself say, ‘It’s okay, Jesse. I’m not going to hurt you … I wouldn’t do that.’
Inexorably he urged her mouth closer to his and closed the distance between them …
Jesse struggled to keep her eyes open, but the dark brown pools of Luc’s eyes were pulling her down. She knew on some rational level that she should kick her legs out, push him away, because she sensed that he wouldn’t force her … but she didn’t. She was her own worst enemy.
As soon as she’d had the vaguest suspicion that this was what he wanted excitement had bubbled through her veins, along with that fear and trepidation. On some level she suspected she’d known all along what he might want, but weakly she’d not acknowledged it. Had she even let him win? The thought was too huge to acknowledge.
What she did know was that since she’d seen him at that event a year ago, and he’d looked down into her eyes with that piercing regard, she’d imagined a moment like this. And she’d been transparent enough at the time to let him see it. And now it was going to happen, and she couldn’t, didn’t, want to stop it.
Luc’s mouth touched hers and it was like getting a thousand tiny electric shocks at once. He drew back slightly, as if he’d felt it too. Jesse’s eyes flew open and clashed with molten brown. They were almost accusatory, as if she’d done something wrong, but before she could articulate anything Luc was slanting his mouth over hers again and kissing her forcibly, his hand holding her head captive.
Jesse knew she was fighting a losing battle to try to pretend she was unaffected—not when she yearned for Luc’s mouth to be harder on hers. With a groan of angry supplication Jesse opened her mouth a fraction and Luc took advantage of her capitulation. Within what felt like seconds their mouths were both open, tongues touching and tasting, dancing forward and retreating back.
Luc’s hand gently angled Jesse’s head to give him deeper penetration and her insides caught fire; her toes curled against the material of the couch. She could feel the solid steel wall of Luc’s chest against her legs and wanted to open them, to bring him closer.
They kissed for long, timeless moments, one second passionately intense, the next languid and almost lazy, with Luc nipping at the corner of Jesse’s mouth. She was vaguely aware of Luc manoeuvring her, but was too intent on tasting him, revelling in his musky scent and that wicked tongue.
When Luc did pull back for a moment Jesse was mortified to find that she’d followed him, as if loath to let him go. And then she realised that she was lying back against Luc’s arm, and that he’d shifted them so that her legs were now draped over his lap and his free hand was on her belly.
She felt completely dazed and disorientated. Boneless. As if some seismic shift had happened within her. She couldn’t even drum up anger right now. This—she craved this like a starving person craved food. This physicality was a need she’d denied for too long, her whole life. For someone who lived so much in her head, suddenly it was all about her body and what it needed. All she could do was lift a hand and touch Luc’s hard jaw, tracing its contours with her fingers, marvelling at how pale her skin was next to his.
Luc’s voice sounded thick and slightly slurred. ‘I want to see you, Jesse …’
His hand moved up to the buttons on her shirt. Jesse’s belly tightened with delicious anticipation. She bit her lip and it was swollen. All she knew right then was that she didn’t want this moment to end. She’d been transported too far into a new seductive world to turn back.
She felt a fleeting moment of panic as sanity threatened to break through the fog in her brain and tensed minutely. But when she searched Luc’s eyes, as if she would find something to help pull her out of this quicksand, she saw nothing but her own desire mirrored there. Shyly she nodded her head with one little jerk, and the flash of heat in Luc’s eyes gave her a heady sense of confidence and—worse—reassurance.
Trust him, her body was crying out, seeking fulfilment. And Jesse realised that she wanted to more than anything.
This was so far removed from her previous experience with a man that she had no frame of reference for anything except knowing that she wanted to go forward. Luc’s long fingers moved to the top button of her shirt and Jesse shivered when he opened it. She felt the backs of his fingers against her skin, then she thought of something and stopped his hand with hers.
Their eyes met and she said, ‘I don’t … I’m not wearing a bra.’
Luc smiled and it was pure sin. ‘I noticed …’
Jesse’s insides melted along with any doubts. She dropped her hand and for the first time in her life felt sensual. Luc’s eyes went back to her shirt and his fingers made fast work of undoing her buttons until her shirt gaped open slightly. Reverently, Luc pushed the material aside to reveal one breast, and Jesse sucked in a breath, unwittingly making her breast swell.
Two slashes of colour lined Luc’s cheeks and Jesse was desperately biting inside her mouth. She wanted him to touch her so badly. And then he did, and she almost arched off the couch.
All Luc could see was a red haze of lust. He heard nothing but a dull pounding in his ears and was vaguely aware that it was his heart. Jesse’s breast fitted into his hand as if made for it. Her hard nipple scraped his palm and he had to bite back a groan. He squeezed the firm flesh, making her nipple even harder, and then he couldn’t wait any longer. He bent his head and surrounded that tight pointed peak in hot moisture, rolling and flicking his tongue around it, biting gently.
He could feel Jesse moving with a response she couldn’t hide, and that sent Luc’s levels of arousal into orbit. The fact that this was surpassing anything he’d experienced with a woman before was something he was in no position or state of mind to think about or acknowledge.
Jesse had never known this drugging, all-encompassing feeling. It was exquisite and torturous all at the same time. She wanted Luc both to stop and never to stop. When he pushed her shirt apart completely and administered the same attention to her other breast she was no longer coherent. One hand was on Luc’s head, keeping it pressed to her breast, her fingers tangled in silky hair. The other was clenched into a fist beside her, nails digging into her palms.
Between her legs she felt sensitive and moist. As if reading her mind, Luc let his hand travel down Jesse’s belly. This rang alarm bells, but Jesse didn’t want to listen to alarm bells—not when her levels of desire were coiling higher and higher. Luc’s wicked mouth was on her breast. Jesse said nothing. She felt him unbutton her trousers and pull the zip down. Again she said nothing.
Was she actually lifting her hips slightly, as if to tacitly tell him something her brain hadn’t caught up with? When Luc’s hand delved down, underneath the barrier of her knickers, Jesse stopped breathing. Everything zeroed in on his mouth and that hand. Silently she begged him to keep going. She’d never wanted anything so badly.
At that moment Luc took his mouth off her b
reast and pulled back slightly. Jesse looked up at him and watched. He just looked at her while his hand moved down an inch. He was touching her curls now, threading through them with long fingers. Down another inch. Jesse’s breath was back, but it was laboured. Her hand had slipped from his head and was tight around the back of his neck.
She squeezed it with the slightest pressure.
Luc said huskily, ‘Is that a yes, Jesse? You want me to keep going?’
An inestimable moment passed and then Jesse squeezed again, harder this time. She barely noticed the flash of satisfaction across Luc’s face because she was so intent on him touching her right … there. Jesse saw nothing but spots and flashes of light for a long second when Luc’s fingers touched her with intimate precision.
His mouth came back over hers and, starving for him, she angled her head up to his, blindly seeking and searching for him, meeting his passion head-on with her own. Meanwhile between her legs he was stoking the raging fire within her to fever-pitch, his fingers gliding up and down, spreading her dampness, touching that most sensitive point over and over again until she had to break away and sob with frustration.
Luc looked as feverish as she felt. She felt him tugging her trousers down over her hips and, realising that this would give him more access, she raised her hips off his lap. And then he was tugging her knickers down, and her legs were free and falling open to him.
He looked down her body and said roughly, ‘I want to taste you …’
Jesse didn’t know what was happening until Luc shifted, so that one of her legs was over his shoulder, and he’d moved down until his head was over her belly. He pressed a kiss to her stomach, and then her belly button. She felt the rough abrasion of his tongue and squirmed against him. She knew she should be feeling vulnerable, but somehow she felt anything but.
Now his hands were on her thighs, holding them, and his mouth was descending. At the last second Jesse realised what he was doing, and the sheer carnality of it made her try to clamp her legs together.
But Luc was ruthless. He looked up at her, and his voice was guttural. ‘No, let me, Jesse. Let me taste you …’
And then his breath was there, hot and … moist. Her head fell back. She couldn’t hold it up. Her fingers were in his hair, ostensibly to stop him, but really she was holding him there, captive.
His tongue was touching her, laving her, finding all her secrets and laying her bare in a way she’d never allowed before. And then she felt his fingers parting her, exposing her, so that he could touch his tongue right to her clitoris and send her flying so close to the sun she thought she might burn to death.
One of his hands was under her buttocks, lifting her to him, and the fingers of his other hand were penetrating where she was so wet and aching, and suddenly Jesse couldn’t stop the momentum. She collided with the sun and exploded into a million and one pieces. Nothing of herself was left. She was weightless and attached to the earth only by the man who was clamping her thighs apart with his big hands.
Luc was pressing kisses to her inner thigh when Jesse finally floated back down. In the aftermath of a pleasure more intense than she’d ever known could exist she became aware of the fact that one leg was still draped over Luc’s shoulder and the other was wide apart. She was dressed in nothing but her shirt, which gaped open. Her breasts were pushed together because she had her hands on Luc’s head, holding him to her.
And he was between her legs, looking up at her with a lazy, sexy smile and a glow of satisfaction in his eyes.
It was that which finally brought her to her senses. She couldn’t believe that one second he’d been kissing her and the next she’d been acquiescing to anything—until she was almost fully naked and he was between her legs. And she had to acknowledge the worst bit of it—she’d been a very willing participant. Begging him.
Jesse moved away from Luc so fast that she caught him unawares. She sprang up from the couch and pulled on her trousers, not even bothering with her pants. Her shirt flapped open and she scrabbled to pull it back together, but her hands were shaking too much to put buttons in holes so she just held it together with one hand.
Luc sat up, and Jesse could see with a rising sense of humiliation and abject shame that not even a button on his own shirt was askew. He was pristine—even if his hair was a little dishevelled.
‘That was a mistake,’ she framed shakily, aghast at how easily he’d slipped under her guard.
‘It didn’t sound like a mistake a few moments ago when you were screaming with pleasure.’
Jesse’s humiliation rose another notch. She sensed that Luc’s louche pose on the couch was anything but. She could feel the taut energy coming off him in waves. She wanted a huge hole to open up in the floor and swallow her whole. And, what was even worse, she was dangerously close to thinking about calling for a plane just to get him out of there and away from her. The only thing stopping her was the realisation that this was exactly what he wanted …
She struggled to hang on to her sanity. ‘It was definitely a mistake, and it won’t happen again. I won’t let you do this … toy with me, pretend to want me … just because you think I’ll give in to your demands if you seduce me.’
Jesse was shaking now, and she pointed a finger of her free hand at Luc. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, Luc Sanchis. All you’ve done is prove that I’m as humiliatingly susceptible to your overblown sexuality as the next indisciminate woman.’
‘Ouch,’ Luc said, and made a mock wincing face. Then his expression became much more stark and, sitting forward, elbows on his knees, he admitted, ‘For your information, Jesse, a man does not do what I just did for the hell of it. He generally needs to really, really want to do it.’
Jesse recalled his face as he’d looked up at her and said throatily, Let me taste you. A fresh wave of shame washed over her. She backed away towards the entrance to the room. Luc stood up and her panic rose. If he touched her again … Her mind blanked at the prospect.
‘No. It was a mistake. I won’t be so weak again.’
And with that she turned and fled, bare feet slapping across the floor of the hall and then up the stairs to her room, two stairs at a time. She heard Luc curse behind her, and then she could hear his footsteps. Panic galvanised her and she got into her room and closed the door just as his hand connected with it.
‘Go away!’ Jesse shouted.
But Luc opened the door and pushed. Jesse couldn’t hold it and sprang back into the room. Luc stood there like some marauding pirate of old, dominating the doorway. She was still clutching her shirt. A treacherous lick of excitement curled through Jesse’s abdomen.
It shook her so much she said, ‘Get away from me, you … animal! You don’t want me any more than you want a block of wood and you’re only trying to mess with my head. I won’t let it happen again.’
Luc emitted a sound like a growl and crossed the room to Jesse. He grabbed her hand and placed it roughly onto a very hard part of his anatomy. She could feel the blood rushing to heat her face—which was ridiculous when she thought of what he’d just been doing to her.
He felt massive.
He pressed her hand even closer. ‘Do you think I can just conjure that response up? Do you really think that’s the sign of a man who is disengaged with what he’s doing? I don’t know where you did your biology classes, but I can assure you it’s not.’
She was stunned to recognise that he was angrier than she’d ever seen him before. With that he flung her hand away and strode back to the door, leaving Jesse standing there tingling all over and with a dull, throbbing ache between her legs.
He stopped abruptly by the door and Jesse heard something clink, like metal against metal, and then he turned around to face her again. She couldn’t make out his expression, because he was in shadow, but she could see what he was holding up in his hand. It glinted in the low lamplight: the key from the door.
Instantly she went clammy all over. He wouldn’t …
&
nbsp; ‘Let’s see how you like being a prisoner for a while, Jesse. I think that’s only fair, don’t you?’
Then he was gone, and the door was shut, and Jesse heard the key turn in the lock. And her world disintegrated around her.
Luc went downstairs, borne aloft by the rage thrumming through his blood. All he could see was red, and he cursed his own rampant body which was refusing to cool down. What did he think he was doing? All but stripping Jesse completely and making love to her on the couch like some horny, out-of-control teenager?
Luc was used to sophisticated surroundings and sophisticated women. He was used to a certain controllable level of arousal which never became something so blindingly white-hot and intense that he forgot who he was and where he was.
And that was the problem.
He stood in the centre of the living room and funnelled his fingers through his hair. He’d never lost it like that. Not even with Maria. He scowled, hating how comparisons between Jesse and Maria kept popping into his head, as if to flag up to him that this whole situation was ten times more volatile.
He’d set out to seduce Jesse, yes. He’d set out to unsettle her, and perhaps to encourage her to trust him by making her vulnerable to him.
He saw her in his mind’s eye as she’d stood there clasping her shirt, spitting mad. He wasn’t making her vulnerable at all. He was making her even harder to win around. So much for his famed charm.
Luc cursed.
He strode into the kitchen and saw Tigger’s box. He hoped that by tending to the kitten for a few minutes it might calm him down. But the delicacy of the tiny animal in his hands only served to remind him of how delicate Jesse had felt under his hands. Damn, damn, damn.