by Michele Hauf
He dipped his lips to her shoulder and glided them over her bare skin. She gave a delicate shiver, but didn’t pull away. In fact, she lifted her arms and looped them around the back of his neck. Gratifying, he thought.
He slid his hand down to the small of her back and drew her against him. Her breath caught, but still she didn’t move away.
Every time she submitted to his physical approach, she bumped up his arousal another notch. He was already hard and allowed her to feel it.
He wanted nothing more than to take her mouth with his, but he waited. It killed him, but he waited, instead caressing her smooth neck. She felt pliant and willing in his arms. He decided to go a little further and slid his thigh between hers.
She gave a little whisper of a groan that intensified his arousal another degree. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered against her ear.
She sighed, arching against him as if she wanted to be closer.
“If you want me to kiss you, lift your mouth,” he told her, his voice sounding gritty with desire to his own ears. He waited and the seconds beat inside his head like a low-pitched bell that vibrated through his body. One, two, three…
She finally lifted her head, her eyes dark with need. “Kiss me,” she whispered, and he lowered his head.
Her mouth felt like silk and satin and every sexy, soft thing he’d ever tasted. He lingered on her lips, savoring the sensation of her pliant mouth beneath his. Soon enough, though, it wasn’t enough and he slid his tongue between the seam of her lips to taste her.
She gave a sexy little sigh, and allowed his entrance. She tasted sweet and forbidden. Her tongue wrapped around his, drawing him deeper. She may as well have been stroking him intimately for the effect she had on him. He couldn’t remember a woman making him this hot. He wanted to touch all of her at once. Sliding his hand up her rib cage, just brushing the side of her breast, he continued to take her mouth.
She rubbed against him and he wanted to pull up her skirt so he could touch her sweetness. He wanted to drop his mouth to her breasts. Despite the fact that they were dancing in a darkened corner, he restrained himself.
“I want to put my mouth all over you,” he muttered against her mouth. “I want to taste you. I want to make you so hot you can’t stand it and beg me for more.”
She pressed her open mouth against his in sexual invitation. He kissed her once more, taking her mouth in only a fraction of the way he wanted to take her body. “There are beds with curtains by the pool. I could take you there.”
“Oh,” she said, taking in a quick, sharp breath. She met his gaze, her eyes full of wanting. “I don’t know. It’s so—”
“Decadent,” he said. “Primal.”
“Yes.” She took another breath.
“It’s up to you. I won’t force you. I’m going outside to one of those beds. I have protection,” he assured her. “We won’t go any further than you want to go.”
She licked her lips and he couldn’t withhold a groan.
Her eyes widened at the sound. “I can’t promise—”
“No promises,” he said. “Just pleasure. I’ll wait there for fifteen minutes,” he said and pressed his mouth against hers before he walked away.
She would join him. He was confident of it. He should be feeling more of a sense of triumph. Especially for the larger goal of getting information from her. Instead, though, what he wanted more than anything was to feel her arms and legs wrap around him while he plunged inside her with nothing between them but skin and pounding blood. Damn, if he could explain it, but he wanted her affection and devotion, too.
Emma felt as if her brain had been scrambled. During the last three minutes, all her mental electrical circuits had fried to smithereens. “Come on, rational brain. Save me,” she muttered as she glanced in the direction of the deserted beds by the pool. The beds featured curtains that shielded against prying eyes.
Damien Medici had just issued the wildest invitation she’d ever received in her life. Did she have the nerve to accept it? Perspiration dotted her forehead. Did she have the good sense and fortitude to turn him down or, if necessary, just run away to her suite upstairs?
Emma took another sip of the martini, despite the fact that she knew it wouldn’t help clear her mind. Every fiber of her being craved Damien. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She wanted him to make her moan. She wanted to make him groan.
If she followed her sensible self, she would run. It was insane.
It was also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
She knocked back the rest of her martini and pushed aside her professional concerns. For the next hour or two, she wouldn’t think about MD. She would think about Damien and her.
Walking toward the beds by the pool, she had second and third thoughts. She kept walking, though, glancing at the loungers, roped off from the crowd inside and on the patio. A little further and she began to feel uneasy. Perhaps she should go to her room. Perhaps this was totally insane. It was totally insane, but maybe he was worth the insanity.
Emma walked past one more bed and felt the chicken in her start to squawk. Stopping, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She felt her nerve begin to dissolve.
Maybe…
“Emma,” Damien’s voice, low, but strong, reached out to her. “I’m here.”
Sucking in another deep breath, she slowly turned toward him. He stood just outside one of the poolside beds, the light outlining his tall, powerful frame.
Wanting washed over her. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to touch him. Gathering her nerve, she walked toward him. “I almost left,” she confessed, looking into his face, half shielded by the darkness.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said and lifted his hand to her hair.
“Come inside,” he coaxed.
With only his hand on her hair, she followed him inside, distantly aware of the swish of draperies closing behind her. The music from the live band played from a speaker in the pool area, adding to the sensuality of the atmosphere.
“Put your arms around me,” he told her, and she did.
“This is crazy,” she said, inhaling his scent from his open shirt.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his forehead and nose against hers as he slid one hand underneath her hair and the other around the back of her waist. “Wanna stop?”
Her heart tripped over itself. “No,” she whispered.
He pressed the small of her back, guiding her pelvis against his arousal. She felt herself grow hotter with each movement. The air inside the curtained area grew more steamy with each passing breath.
His movements were carnal and suggestive. She wasn’t the least bit threatened, though. She wanted more. Lifting her head, she met his gaze and he guided her against him in a rhythm as old as time.
He swore, pulling her mouth against his and squeezing her bottom. Her heart raced and she felt light-headed. She had never felt this much want, this much need.
Tugging blindly at his shirt, she fumbled with his buttons. He pushed her hand aside and loosened them himself. She spread her hands over his warm, muscled flesh. So strong, so male.
His strength was an aphrodisiac. Distantly sensing his hands on the buttons of her blouse, she felt a draft of air on her back and her chest as her blouse dipped to her chest. One, two, three more seconds and her bra seemed to dissolve.
Her breasts meshed with his chest and she couldn’t withhold a moan. He thrust his tongue into her mouth while he stroked the sides of her breasts. Her nipples peaked even though he hadn’t touched them. Lower, she grew wet and swollen.
“So sweet, so good,” he said, sliding his mouth down her throat, down her chest to her breast.
Emma held her breath, wanting, aching for more.
He gently pushed her back on the lush lounge and followed her down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth.
She arched toward him in pleasure and need. “Oh, Damien.”
“I love the sound of my name on y
our lips,” he muttered, sliding his lips down to her abdomen, pushing away her skirt. He skimmed his hand beneath her satin panties and found her most sensitive spot with unerring ease.
Emma shuddered at his intimate touch. She felt her body tighten with each stroke of his fingers, each breath that blew over her bare belly. He dipped lower and took her with his mouth.
Pleasured in a way she’d never experienced, she felt as if he were claiming her with his hands, with his mouth. Of its own volition her body shook with the beginning waves of climax.
Pulling away just before she soared, he skimmed his mouth back up her body. Every cell inside her was begging for him to finish her, to fill her up and take her the rest of the way. Her craving for him stole her breath.
“Inside,” she said, clinging to his shoulders, drowning in his black gaze full of potent arousal. “Inside.”
He pushed down his slacks and pulled on protection, then pushed her thighs apart. “Hold on tight,” he said in a voice rough with need. Then he thrust inside her in one mind-blowing stroke.
He filled her, stretching her so that she could barely catch her breath. The way he took her, the way he looked at her felt somehow primitive, as if he was laying claim to her and she would never be the same. Her heart pounding with overwhelming sensations and feelings, Emma couldn’t tear her eyes from his. She lifted her hand to his face, touching his scar. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then rubbed his mouth over her hand.
He began to pump and the pleasure inside her quickly built again. The need edging toward desperation tightened. With each thrust, he took her higher and higher.
“I want it all, Emma. Give it all to me,” he muttered.
His demand, his powerful thrusts and all the feelings she was experiencing were too much. Her body clenched him and a deep spasm of pleasure shot her into a realm of ecstasy she’d never experienced. A second later, he stiffened and swore, shuddering in climax. The experience was so powerful it took her a full moment to begin to breathe again.
Feeling his heartbeat pound against hers, she opened her eyes, half wondering if the earthquake that had taken place between them had brought down their outdoor boudoir if not the entire hotel.
She met his gaze to find him looking at her with an expression of primitive possession and a twinge of surprise. “I knew there was something between us, but—”
“It surprised me, too,” she said, breathless.
“I want you to join me in my suite,” he said and pulled an extra key card from the pocket of his slacks as he got dressed. He handed her the key. “I want more time with you.”
Taking his cue that it was time to get dressed, she gathered her wits, pulled on her clothes and slipped his key into her small purse. She met his gaze. “Is that an order?”
“Not at all,” he said, leaning toward her and rubbing his mouth against hers. He arranged her blouse and smoothed her hair. The considerate gesture took her by surprise. “An invitation. You go first. I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”
Her heart squeezed at his admission. “Why not?”
“Because you’re wearing the irresistible expression of a woman who’s just been thoroughly—” He broke off. “Trust me. One look at you and the hounds will be at your heels. Leave first and I’ll catch up with you.”
Feeling off-kilter, she stepped into her sandals and took a few deep breaths. She glanced back at him.
“I’ll catch up in just a minute,” he said.
She peeked out of the curtain and, seeing no one, she walked outside. The tropical breeze played over her skin, soothing her as she walked on the concrete next to the pool. What had she just done? she asked herself. Although Emma’s sexual history was rather sparse, she couldn’t recall any experience that had exploded with such passion. Physically, it had been unbelievable, but there’d been something deeper going on between them…unless she’d imagined it. And should she dare go to his room? Was she out of her mind?
Seconds later, she felt him step to her side and slide his hand around her back. “Okay?”
“Yes,” she said, but her hands were trembling.
He caught one of them and slid his strong hand over hers. “Liar.”
“I’m working on it,” she said defensively. “I don’t have that much experience with this kind of thing.”
“Sex?” he asked, as he guided her toward the elevators.
She didn’t want to admit just how limited her experience was. “With my boss in a cabana. New for me.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad I got you carried away.”
She took in a deep breath and entered the elevator as the doors whooshed open. She closed her eyes, hating how vulnerable she felt.
“What is it?” he asked.
They were the only people in the elevator. “This is going to sound really crazy, but I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”
He gave a bark of laughter. “Easy? I felt like I was breaking into Fort Knox.”
Her heart lifted and her lips twitched. She threw him a sideways glance. “Slight exaggeration.”
He shook his head. “I would have taken you in the office, in my car, in the limo, at the charity event…”
His confession squeezed her heart. “Why me?”
“You have something,” he said, his eyes darkening. “You have something I’ve never had before and I want it.”
The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor and he glanced at the doors as they opened. “But it’s up to you. You have the key to my suite,” he said and walked out of the elevator.
Emma followed him outside of the elevator and slowly walked to her room. Standing outside her door, she looked further down the hall to Damien’s room. She’d thought he was heartless and cold, but he was hotter than a fire on the coldest, scariest night of her life.
She wondered what she had that Damien could possibly want so much. Her heart did a strange flip-flop. Did she have the nerve to go to his room? Did she have the nerve not to go to him?
10
Two hours later, after they’d made love again, they sat together on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around them and the stars shining down. Her body was silky and warm within his arms.
“Have you ever done this before?” Emma asked, then shook her head. “Don’t answer.”
The truth was Damien had never felt magic the way he did tonight. “I haven’t done this before, sat on a balcony with a beautiful woman in the middle of the night.”
“I wouldn’t say beautiful,” she said.
“I would,” he said.
“That’s the sex talking,” she said.
But it wasn’t. Damien had glimpsed Emma’s sweetness and not only was she beautiful on the outside, she was beautiful on the inside. She was so loyal. He craved receiving that loyalty for himself.
“A lot of stars up there. What kind of wishes would you make?”
“If I believed in making wishes?” she asked.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I made too many when I was a kid.”
“Blowing out candles on a birthday cake,” she said.
“Shooting star,” he said.
She nodded.
“What kind of wishes would you make?”
She took a deep breath and nuzzled against his chin. “I would wish that my mother would never gamble again. That she would never want to gamble again.”
“That makes sense.” He slid his hand over her silky hair. “Name something frivolous.”
She gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, wow. That’s tough.”
“So much has been about survival.”
“That’s right. You know, don’t you?”
He felt her looking at him. “Yeah, I do.” He paused. “So tell me something frivolous.”
“I’m guessing world peace isn’t acceptable.”
He laughed, hugging her against him. “Not frivolous.”
“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. “This is hard.”
“You can do it.”
She sighed and smiled. “A new apartment with a Jacuzzi and a wonderful pool.”
“Sounds good.”
“Losing ten pounds,” she added.
“Don’t even think about it. You don’t need to lose anything.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “You could have models, women with perfect bodies.”
“Yours is perfect,” he said, sliding his hands over her soft skin. “Name something else.”
She closed her eyes. “A vacation somewhere exotic.”
“Keep going.”
“A dog.”
“You mentioned that before. So you need a dog nanny, too,” he said.
“Oh, I think that’s going a bit far. Your turn. Name some wishes.”
“I don’t have wishes. I set goals. I give myself targets and exceed them.”
“Spoken like a true tycoon,” she said. “Okay, let’s go further back, back to the time when you believed that blowing out the candles on that birthday cake meant your wish would come true.”
He shook his head, lifting his hand to rub his jaw. “That’s so far back. I don’t know if I can remember. The first few years the family was split up, I made wishes that we could get back together. Wishes that my father and brother hadn’t died in that train accident. Wishes that we hadn’t been too much for my mother to deal with after it happened.”
“That had to have been horrible,” she said.
“Yeah, kinda hard to find something frivolous when your entire world has blown apart,” he said.
“But you eventually decided you wanted a Ferrari,” she said, with just enough humor to lift him out of his gloom.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I did, but you can be damn sure I didn’t count on getting it by blowing out candles on a birthday cake.”
“No, but it proves you’ve had some wishes,” she said.
“Okay, back in the day, I wished for a bike where the chain didn’t fall off every half mile.”
“Did you ever get one?”
“Hell no. By the time I could afford one, I didn’t care that much. I waited a long time to buy my first car because I used public transportation. That first car was a piece of—” He broke off and laughed. “Let me put it this way. It was no dream machine. The roof liner hung down on my head, the color was silver, metal and rust, and it drank oil like an alcoholic drinks booze.”