Timeless. Daisy BanksЧитать онлайн книгу.
not expected this man to laugh.
“Miss Armstrong, you need to learn when to admit defeat,” he said.
“I’m invincible,” she replied, but it was a lie, and when he covered her mouth with his and the sweet sensation she remembered blistered through her flesh, she happily took the first step to completeness.
* * * *
Soft, delicate as a flower, she opened her lips under the caress of his, and she tasted sweet, minty fresh. His rising need deepened with their kiss, so he took command of her mouth, instructed her with exquisite precision in exactly what he hoped for from her. The increase in her breathing rate and her sighed responses promised him her participation would be all he could wish.
The force of her will astonished him. For two nights she’d fought him off, banished him from her dreams with ease. Even when he’d managed to sneak in, she’d caged him. Today, she’d held him off every step of the way to the lake. She wanted him, he was certain, but didn’t want to give in, not this soon. She’d tested him and all his skills. But now, at last, he’d managed to slip through her defenses because she embraced him to her, nestled against him in the place she belonged. Her love of beauty, no less than his, left her vulnerable. The sound of her breathy moans encouraged him to slide and roll his tongue with hers. Desire flashed deep in his gut.
Dreams would live. They throbbed through him.
Today, he’d take his time and try to find the key to the power she had over him, and the way to placate the will it had taken him so long to bend to his own.
The small, sun-faded pagoda was a little dusty, but dry. The large day bed he lowered her onto, its only piece of furniture, accepted their combined weight with ease. He caressed her hand, kissed her thumb, and slid his tongue over the red polish on her nail. Her eyes had become nearly all dark pupil. A small sigh broke from her as he moved his lips slowly from her thumb to the tip of her index finger. Sucking her finger, stroking with his tongue over the very tip, wrapping around her flesh, he enjoyed the trembles running through her.
When he moved his mouth to the next finger, she tried to pull him to her with her other hand. He shook his head, sucking her finger deeper into his mouth, up to the knuckle. Deliberately, he slid her finger slowly from his lips. “It’s my turn today,” he said.
Her eyes widened in response.
“You had your turn,” he explained.
The last trace of resistance slipped from her, and he enjoyed the sense of anticipation of her body with his. Only once he’d tasted all of her fingers did he bend down to kiss her lips again. She whimpered and thrust herself up toward him, rubbed her breasts against his chest and hooked her calf over his thigh. Her lips, succulent and hot, met his. Mouth open wider, she lashed his tongue with hers.
Beneath her jersey blouse, he found skin softer than her silk underwear. As he rolled one rigid nipple between his fingers, she moaned, and he unhooked her bra, pushed it up so he could hold the weight of her breasts in his palms. The desire to capture her nipples with his mouth, to soothe and torment them until she cried out in pleasure, ached inside him. Rolling the jersey top from her, he pulled the bra away and unable to stop himself, fell to feeding on her flesh as he would on the most delicate dainty the world could offer.
A cry broke from her as he sucked one of her nipples deeply into his mouth. Molding her other breast under his palm, he rubbed the plump mound. The friction would delight her.
“Magnus,” she gasped, as he moved to the other nipple and captured it in his teeth. Tart sweet the taste of her, like a ripe cherry. “Magnus!” broke from her again as he bit gently down. Swiftly he worked at the button on her trousers, and more of her luscious flesh entered his mouth as she pushed her breast forward.
He yanked the expensive business trousers from her. The scent of her arousal was unmistakable and the need for her raced through his blood.
Damn it, she’d think him a savage, but he could scarce stop. He tore the underwear away, and the sweet smell of her made his mouth water. “Yes, you know what I need, you know I need you,” he whispered over her stomach, opening her thighs so he could enjoy all of her.
Soft little whimpers left her, as he parted her folds and tasted her with a sweep of his tongue, and she arched against him. “Not yet,” he whispered, smoothing his palms over her silky thighs. Her clitoris was swollen, tempting. He stroked the heated bead slowly, pushing at it, and a tremble ran through the muscles of the thighs he held spread apart. A low, lengthy moan, and more of her intoxicating scent followed the next flick of his tongue back and forth. Lost to the delight of pleasuring her, he suckled, lapped and licked until she thrashed her head, cried out in incoherent sobbed gasps and pushed her hips up in a plea for more.
The throb he’d tried to ignore ached deeper, his erection swelled harder as she ground herself against his face. The first spasm of her orgasm shook through him and he redoubled his efforts to take her over the edge. Her cry ripped through the pagoda. Moisture flooded from her as she snapped herself up against him. The tension ebbed away in long rhythmic contractions of her internal muscles. He slid his tongue into her to enjoy them and need for her surged. To hold back any longer was impossible.
Delight waited for him to unleash it.
He dragged off his jeans and she pushed her hips upward, showing him where he belonged, tilted them. With the first stroke, he buried his swollen flesh inside her.
“Yes, oh, yes. There!” Her nails raked his ass, encouraging him to go deeper.
She clamped tight around him, gripped him so hard, he couldn’t move for a few seconds. Thighs locked around his waist, she relaxed, and only then could he withdraw and plunge in again.
Her cries of pleasure matched his.
Damn, she was so responsive, beautifully so. As she answered each thrust, the tremors shaking through her told him she was with him all the way. Sweat wet his brow, and though he tried to hold back, he couldn’t control his reaction to her silky fluid pooling hot against his skin and her shriek of delight. Orgasm exploded through him. “Yes, you’re mine,” he groaned against her contorted lips.
Somehow, he managed to hold back the word Julia. He fell forward, pulses of his seed filling her as the rhythmic contractions inside her stroked him.
When finally their bodies both slowed, he lifted up from her, and running his finger over her smooth cheek, enjoyed the last of the movements as they faded. “I really can’t call you Miss Armstrong any longer. What does the S stand for?”
She looked dazed. Wonder filled him, that he’d created those dazzling stars in the depths of her black pupils.
“Sian,” she whispered.
All movement, even his breathing froze. Gooseflesh rippled his skin. “God’s gift, and mine, but you’ve been a long time getting here, my love.”
He slid his arms around her again, and crushed her frailty against him.
Chapter 5
Sian wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten back to the house. She sat at the exquisite polished walnut table in the massive dining room, and rolled her silver spoon slowly around the creme brulee dish.
They’d just finished a salad dressed with figs and cheese, and she remembered eating it, but couldn’t recall its taste. Magnus sat across the corner from her, and she couldn’t seem to stop glancing at him. He focused on her, a gracious host, full of politeness, and still the evidence of their passion dampened her underwear.
A clock chimed four. They’d arrived late back to the house for lunch. She pushed the dessert dish away. “I really must go. I need to get back to town.”
“No, please don’t go, not today. Stay over. If the morning is clear tomorrow, I could take you to the woods.”
She shook her head. There was so much to do in the office.
Hurt blazed in his eyes,