Australian Millionaires: The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge. Maxine SullivanЧитать онлайн книгу.
do you think I’m doing?” His voice flowed over her like liquid silk.
Her throat went dry. “You’re playing games with me.”
“No game, Kia. Far from it.”
She straightened her shoulders. “Brant, stop it. This is ridiculous. You’re my boss. I’m—”
“About to be kissed,” he murmured, stopping right in front of her. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t reach out. He just stood there, looking at her. And what she saw melted every bone in her body. He was still angry, but oh, God, he wanted her.
She licked her lips. “Brant, I—”
“I’m so angry with you right now I’m either going to swear or kiss you.”
She tried to step back.
He grabbed her arm to prevent her from moving, his touch shooting desire to every region of her body. “And then I’m going to take the clothes off that delicious body of yours and taste all of you.”
She felt the room twirl around her. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
He pulled her closer, his pupils darkening. “I’ve waited too long already.”
A ripple of anticipation ran through her as she watched his head lower … watched those lips come closer … and when he touched her, she could no longer deny him or herself. Every moment from the minute she’d met him had been rushing headlong toward this kiss. Ever since her first look at him in this very office, nothing else had mattered, nothing but wanting to feel the consuming pressure of his lips on hers, as they were doing now.
At last.
The kiss still took her by surprise. She expected him to plunder and ravish her on the carpet, but he didn’t, and she soon forgot all about his anger as the velvet warmth of his mouth stirred every nerve ending on her lips, before he used his tongue to slide inside her.
And there he stayed, exploring the soft, sensitized recesses of her mouth until she thought she might fuse with him. But she wanted him closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cupped the back of his head to hold him to her. It felt so good to be like this with him. This was where she belonged. If only for a short while.
Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed deeply into her eyes, so deep that she suddenly worried he might see the real her. Not the outside person but the inside person. The person who didn’t know how she was going to handle this man.
“What’s the matter?” he said, watching her.
“Um … nothing.” Her gaze darted down to his chest, lowering her eyelids, briefly covering her face from him. She wanted to remain like this and not let him see her thoughts. She needed to keep something of herself to herself.
And then he took her arms from around his neck and put them at her sides. He lifted her chin, holding her gaze. “I won’t let you hold back from me,” he warned softly.
She took a shaky breath. “You won’t let me?”
“No.” He reached out and undid the top button of her dress, and suddenly she didn’t have the strength to argue with him. She stood there and let him undress her. She wanted him to do it. Wanted him to undo all the buttons and feel his touch on her skin. Wanted to give all of herself to him.
His hands were sure and never missed a beat as they slid down from one button to the next, opening the material wider, more fully. For him.
She could see the pulse in his neck thumping wildly and she wanted to reach out and run her finger over it. Touching him would be like throwing a match onto kerosene.
He pushed the material off her shoulders and let it slide down her arms, down her body, to the carpet. She heard him groan as she stood there in a lacy bra, bikini panties, no stockings, and high-heeled sandals. For a moment she wished she’d worn them. It may have put up a barrier.
But who was she kidding? Nothing was going to stop this. She didn’t want it to stop, God help her.
“I like the color peach on you,” he murmured, his eyes flaring with hot desire. “It flatters you.”
She moaned and whispered, “Touch me,” and he suddenly swung her in his arms, carrying her over to the large mahogany desk. With one hand he swept the papers aside, then planted her in the middle of it. Her stomach somersaulted as he stood looking down at her.
“I’ve fantasized you like this for weeks,” he murmured, reaching out to twine his fingers in her hair, loosening the blonde strands at the nape of her neck. “And this,” he said, lifting her hair up in his hands, then leaning forward and burying his face in her locks, inhaling deeply.
She stilled, breathing in the mingled scent of his body heat and aftershave as it soaked into her pores … until the soft peck of his lips moved to her ear, to her jawline and finally her mouth again.
Eventually he broke off the kiss. “Here, let me,” he murmured, his fingers sliding under her bra straps and slowly pushing them off her shoulders.
She trembled when his palms caressed the bare skin there before slipping around to her back to undo the catch. Her bra fell away, and suddenly she was naked from the waist up. She wanted to hide, not from him but from herself. She didn’t know if she could let herself go like this.
“Beautiful,” he said in a gravelly voice, teasing her breasts with his hands until her breathing quickened even more and she had to close her eyes from sheer pleasure.
His head lowered, his mouth closing over one nipple, and she gasped, her breasts surging at the intimacy of it all.
“Brant!”
He pulled back, his eyes searing a path over her. And then he moved and his lips followed that same path, kissing down the center of her, teasing her belly button with the tip of his tongue before stopping at the top of her thighs.
He inhaled deeply through the thin lace, and she almost dissolved. She’d never done anything like this before. Never let a man do this to her. She’d had one lover in high school and nothing since.
He pushed the material to one side. “I have to taste you,” he said, his fingers seeking her, opening her to him. He placed his mouth against her, and she cried out his name as his tongue darted out to taste her, explore her, tracing the shape of her, teasing the small part of her that suddenly felt as if she were about to explode.
“Oh, Brant,” she moaned again. She closed her eyes as something powerful inched up inside her with every touch of his tongue. It felt so good … so right … so exquisite.
“Ooh!” She exploded with one more stroke, going up in flames like a bushfire sweeping through her, burning everything in sight, leaving nothing of her unmarked. She would never be the same again, never forget what it was like to have this man touch her like this.
And when she opened her eyes, Brant was leaning back in the chair, watching her with such possessive satisfaction that her breath caught in her throat.
Her heart gave a triple beat. She wanted to look away, only she couldn’t. There’d been too much between them all these weeks. Too much longing. Too much wanting each other. They’d earned this moment between them.
Brant spoke first. “Here, let’s get you dressed,” he said brusquely and gently closed her legs.
“Oh, but …” She could feel her cheeks growing red as he passed her bra. “I mean … urn … aren’t we going to …?”
“Make love? Not yet.” He stood up and helped her off the desk as intense disappointment swept through her. She went to turn away, but he held her still. “My place. Seven o’clock.”
She blinked. “To-tonight?”
“Yes.” He ran a finger across her lips, his eyes a mixture of need and still-deep anger. “No more waiting. For either of us. And I can’t