This wasn’t a man born to wear a suit, she thought idly, while her fingertips moved across his skin, smoothing through the thatch of dark hair. His skin was bronzed as if he’d spent years in the sun and she could only imagine that the hard, chiseled planes of his chest had been born working on construction sites.
Her thumb moved over one flat nipple and he hissed in a breath as he kicked the bedroom door open, sending it slamming into the wall behind.
“Do that again and this is going to be over a lot sooner than either one of us wants it to be,” he warned as his arms tightened around her like bands of iron.
That promise sent even more heat to her center, and she squirmed in his arms at the sudden discomfort of her jeans. She wanted. Needed. She took a breath and looked around. The huge room was darkened but for the moonlight pouring through the wide windows onto a gigantic bed. She didn’t notice anything else.
Her gaze shifted to him and locked there as he stopped at the side of the bed, reached down and threw back the black duvet to reveal crisp white sheets. Mounds of pillows banked against the headboard and when he dropped her onto the mattress, Rose bounced a couple of times, still never taking her eyes from his.
Her entire body was sizzling. She swallowed hard at the look in his eyes. She felt like a banquet laid out before a starving man and heaven help her, she couldn’t wait for him to take his first bite.
Desire pumped through her, making every nerve ending feel as though it was on fire.
“I’ve been thinking about this—you, here in my bed—for almost two weeks,” he admitted, bending over her as she unsnapped her jeans then pulled the zipper down. He pulled the jeans and her panties off, pausing only long enough to tear her shoes off and toss them aside as well.
“I have, too,” she admitted, though if she were going to be completely honest with him—which she wasn’t—she’d have to say she had been thinking about this moment for three years. Since the moment her brother had introduced them and then metaphorically hung a No Trespassing sign over her head.
“Wait’s over,” he grumbled and peeled out of his own clothes in a heartbeat of time.
“Thank goodness,” she whispered. Her gaze moved over him in a blink and everything hot and needy inside her stirred into frantic life. His body was amazing. She couldn’t wait to feel it moving within her.
She lifted her arms in welcome and he bent over her, joining her on the wide bed, sliding his hands up and down her body, exploring every curve, learning every line. His breath came hot and fast against her neck, her breasts, as he took first one nipple then the other into his mouth, lavishing each of them with attention. His teeth scraped across the sensitive tips, and his tongue worked her until she was whimpering beneath the onslaught of feelings. He suckled her and it felt as though he were drawing her essence into his mouth. She clung to him, holding his head in place while her body arched and shifted on the cool sheets, looking blindly for release.
He fed off her response, ramping up his touch, his kisses. As if he felt everything she was experiencing, Lucas seemed to know just how to touch her. How to stroke and caress until she was babbling helplessly.
She writhed beneath him, hips rocking, back arching, moving into him, wanting, needing. Her mind shut down to everything but the incredible sensations he brought her. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Her breasts, her nipples, her abdomen, her… “Lucas—”
His big hand cupped her core and she gasped his name again, louder this time. Finally, her body seemed to shout. At last. What she needed. His thumb rubbed that small, sensitive bud at her center as he dipped first one finger and then two into her heated depths.
“Lucas, please,” she whispered brokenly, hips moving into his hand, her head turning from side to side on the bed as she fought for breath, fought for completion.
Spirals of tension coiled inside her with every stroke of his fingers. He dipped his head to claim one of her nipples again and as he suckled her, he rubbed even harder at her center and the two sensations combined made Rose absolutely mindless with craving.
She moaned his name and fisted her hands in the sheet beneath her, trying to keep her grip on her unsteady world. Feet planted on the mattress, she rocked her hips ceaselessly, hungering for a release that remained tantalizingly out of reach. She worked for it, practically wept for it as each breath she drew grew shallower, more desperate.
He lifted his head, looked at her and in his eyes she saw the same frantic need she was feeling. “Fast and hard, that’s how I want you, Rose.”
“Yes. Be inside me. Now. Please,” she whispered, twisting beneath him, parting her thighs even wider, her body issuing the invitation she couldn’t find the breath to speak.
He reached over to the bedside table, yanked open the drawer and pulled out a condom. He tore the wrapping open, grabbed the latex and sheathed himself in one quick move.
“A careful man,” she whispered, echoing the words he’d once said to her.
“You make me crazy, Rose,” he muttered darkly, moving to cover her body with his.
She smiled, stupidly pleased by that remark. “I do?”
“Yeah. Hell, I almost forgot to grab a condom,” he admitted, taking her mouth in a long kiss as his body slid into her heat.
“Oh, my…” She arched into him, lifting her hands to his shoulders, clinging to him as if she needed his strength to hold her onto the planet.
“Rose…” He groaned and held perfectly still for one heart-stopping moment. “Can’t wait. Have to have you,” he said on a sigh and, almost instantly, set a fast, hard rhythm that had Rose’s heart racing. Again and again, he entered and withdrew. Their bodies moved together in the moonlight, each of them reaching for completion. Each of them clinging to the other.
And as the last, taut coil of tension inside her suddenly exploded, Rose called out his name and looked up into his eyes as the rest of the world fell away. A crashing wave of staggering pleasure washed through her, leaving her shaken and vulnerable.
She was still holding him, still meeting that passion-fueled gaze, when his body erupted into hers and, cradling him, Rose rode the wave of his release as fully as she had her own.
Seven
Lucas felt as though he’d just run a marathon.
His body still locked inside hers, his climax still rippling through his body, he hardened for her again. Rocking into her, he heard her sigh and felt her hook her legs at the small of his back.
“Mmm…” Her satisfied sigh rattled him, and at the same time fed the burgeoning hunger that was refueling itself inside him.
He groaned again and knew they weren’t finished. A part of him wondered if they would ever be finished.
She flattened her palms against his chest and stroked his skin—her touch was like silk. He looked into her eyes and saw the passion-glazed stare of a woman completely undone and should have felt a jolt of satisfaction for a plan that was coming together all too well.
Instead, all he felt was more want. More need.
Her blue eyes were shining with every ounce of passion that was flaring inside him. She wanted him again every bit as much as he wanted her. The smoldering fire between them leaped into life like an inferno. Her short, neat fingernails scratched at his skin and every single touch was like the lick of flames. She thumbed one of his nipples and he felt the jolt of renewed passion zip through him like a lightning strike.
Heartbeat pounding, he took her mouth again. Their tongues tangled together, breath sliding from one to the other of them. Each of them fought their own need and offered it up to the other. Each of them hungered and Lucas did the only thing he could. He moved inside her again and heard her groan of satisfaction as his reward.
This wasn’t seduction anymore.
This was need. Crashing, burning desperation—and it wouldn’t be denied.
Easing up a bit, he unhooked her legs from his waist and draped them over his shoulders. She licked her lips and rocked her body on his, sliding hi
m in even deeper than he had been.
Lucas hissed in a breath and fought for the legendary calm that seemed to have completely deserted him. When it came to this woman, he had no control. How could he have not noticed that before?
He was always in control. Always cool and composed. Distanced even, from the very women he slept with. There were barriers erected between him and the rest of the world.
But tonight was different.
She was different.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do to have Rose, Lucas thought. For the first time ever, his mind was taking a backseat to his body’s demands and he didn’t care. Didn’t want to think and could only be grateful for the complete shutdown of his coolly rational brain.
“Lucas…”
Her whispered plea slammed into him. He reached for their joining and stroked his thumb over the one nub of flesh he knew would make her the most crazed. She didn’t disappoint him. Instantly, she rocked on him, swiveling her hips as best she could to take him deeper, higher.
And still it wasn’t enough.
Shifting position, Lucas pulled free of her, drawing moans from both of them. Then he eased her legs off his shoulders, turned her over onto her stomach and lifted her hips.
Moving to accommodate what he was doing, Rose went up on all fours and in an instant, Lucas entered her body again, seating himself as deeply as he could. His hands on her behind, he squeezed and stroked while she moved into him, gasping for every breath.
He slid one hand down and around to cup one of her breasts, tugging at her nipple as he continued to move inside her. Faster, harder, deeper, he pushed them both beyond the edge of reason and into a world where the only hope either of them had was another crushing release.
Moonlight caressed her skin and silvered her hair. The cool sheets beneath them and the chill of the air in the room added even more sensation to what passed between them. And when he felt her climax stir, Lucas let himself go. This time when they made that leap, they made it together.
A few minutes later, Lucas was lying against the bank of pillows with Rose still spooned in front of him. He hadn’t been able to separate himself from her yet. The heat of her drew him in and it was something he was in no hurry to give up. Breath churning from his lungs, he fought to get his brain back. He’d never experienced anything like this before. Rose was the first woman in his life that had emptied his mind and fired his body so that nothing else had mattered.
He could hardly believe what had happened. He hadn’t been able to dredge up coherent thought beyond admitting to himself that she was so much more than he had originally thought. His natural restraint had dissolved. His rational self had taken a vacation, leaving his body in charge—and he hardly knew what to think about that. Hell, he’d never lost himself in a woman like that before. Sighing, he kissed her shoulder and reluctantly parted them. And—
A sudden, staggering realization punched him hard. How could he have not noticed? Been so careless?
Looking down at the woman cuddled into him he said, “Rose, tell me you’re on the pill.”
“What?” She sighed, rolled over and nestled her head more comfortably on his chest then licked her lips.
That brief sweep of her tongue sent another jolt of desire through him and he had to fight to ignore it.
“The pill, Rose,” he repeated as she shifted lazily to turn her gaze up to his.
Her hair was a cloud of silvery blond, framing her face and lying across her pale, beautiful skin, making her look like some pagan goddess. And, despite the raging unease inside him, his body instantly went like stone again. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be repeating his stupendous lack of control.
“What did you say?” She stroked her palm up his chest and around to his back and the brush of her fingertips against his skin felt like match flames.
He hissed in a breath, caught her wandering hand in his and growled, “Rose, the damn condom broke. Tell me you’re on the pill.”
That got her attention. She went absolutely still and her eyes widened. His stomach sank. He saw the flash of shock that became worry in her eyes, and he knew they were in trouble.
“Oh, God…” She pulled her hand free of his grip and covered her mouth with it.
Lucas sighed and briefly dropped one arm across his eyes as if he could shut out the whole image of what had just happened. He couldn’t believe this.
“How did it…never mind.”
“I don’t know how the hell it broke, either,” he muttered. “It’s never happened to me before.” He got out of bed, stalked to the bathroom to take care of the mess, then headed back to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, he pulled her into his side and looked down at her. “Look, it’s too late for this conversation, but you should know I’m healthy.”
“Me, too,” she assured him, though he hadn’t for a second considered she might not be.
Not the sweet and pure Rose.
Irritation warred with the dregs of the passion he was still feeling. Even now, when he was reeling with the possibilities facing him, Lucas could admit to himself that his desire for her hadn’t been quenched. Not even close. Which said exactly what about him?
She pushed her hair out of her face and reached for the edge of the duvet, dragging it up over her breasts as if somehow by draping herself in armor she could undo what they had already done.
“Is there a chance?” He actually winced at what had to be the dumbest question he’d ever uttered. Of course there was a chance she would get pregnant. He’d been stupid. Thoughtless. Allowed himself to be carried away by his body’s demands at the expense of his damn brain.
“Forget it,” he said quickly. “Stupid question. I know there’s a chance.”
“It’s the wrong time of the month,” she told him, “but that’s no guarantee….” A moment later, she groaned and added, “I can’t believe it broke.”
His teeth clenched hard enough to snap his jaw, but he still managed to say, “My fault.”
“Oh, please.”
Not the reaction he’d expected. When he looked at her closely he was even more surprised by the irritated expression she was aiming at him.
“We’re both grown-ups, Lucas. We were both here. We both wanted this and neither one of us handmade a faulty condom, so please don’t treat me like a child and take all the blame for this.”
“That’s not how I meant it,” he muttered. Women were damned confusing at times, he told himself. You don’t take responsibility, they’re pissed. You do take it and they’re pissed anyway.
“Well, it’s what you said,” she told him, swinging her hair back from her face. “My God, you don’t even see how insulting that is, do you? What? Am I some airhead who doesn’t know how babies are made? Is that it?”
“No, damn it, what are you so mad about?”
“Oh, this is just typical,” she muttered darkly, her hands fisting on the duvet until her knuckles went white. “I’m so tired of everyone around me acting as though I’m a porcelain doll or something. No mind of my own.”
She scooted off the bed, still clutching the duvet tightly to her. “My father, my ex, Dave and now you.”
He jumped off the bed, too, and stood there naked, watching her stomp barefooted around the edge of the mattress. “Don’t lump me in with them.”
“If it walks like a duck…”
“Great. Perfect.” He threw his hands up and shook his head. Weirdest damn after-sex conversation he’d ever had. “You’re an intelligent woman in charge of herself who might be pregnant because of a faulty condom. Happy?”
“Delirious,” she snapped. “You just don’t get it. I spent most of my life taking orders from the men in my life, who insisted they knew better than I did. I didn’t argue, either, which is totally my fault,” she added in a disgusted undertone. “I even married a man my father picked out because I didn’t want to disappoint him.”
Lucas shoved one hand through his hair. “Always wondered why you married that je
rk.”
“Now you know. Spineless Rose. That was me,” she said with a shudder. “I look back and even I don’t believe what a doormat I was.” Flashing him a look that should have set him on fire, she added, “But you know what? Being married to Henry, living through the humiliation of him constantly cheating on me, was a valuable lesson.”
“In what? Torture? Self-sacrifice?” He snorted a laugh. “Figures Saint Rose would find the silver lining in the middle of the storm.”
She inhaled sharply and her expression was horrified. “Saint Rose? That’s what you think of me?”
“That’s what everyone thinks of you. The good. The perfect. The always proper and demure Rose Clancy,” he said, despite the voice in his head warning him to step carefully.
She kicked the duvet away from her feet and, still clutching the top of it to her breasts, marched over to him, fury stamped on her features. When she was close enough, she poked him in the chest with her index finger.
Didn’t look demure now, Lucas thought warily. Her eyes were flashing and her mouth was flattened into a thin, straight line that told him he was lucky she wasn’t armed.
“I’m no saint,” she snapped, defining each word with a sharp stab of her finger.
“I’m getting that.”
“And I’m not the same Rose you used to know. I’m done taking orders from men—any man.” She gave him a shove that didn’t budge him an inch. “I’ll make my own decisions, and I’ll worry about my own mistakes, and I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. “Fine. Make your decision. Start with what do we do now.”
“What do you mean?” she asked with a choked-off laugh that sounded just this side of hysterical. “There’s nothing to do. It’s done. A little late to be locking the old barn door, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck and nodded to himself. “We’ll just see what happens and if you are pregnant, then we’ll get married and…”
Ready for King's Seduction Page 8