From Mistresses To Wives?. Lee WilkinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
herself as he put his lips to hers again, but there was no resisting the surging response, no shutting out the inner voice urging her to let matters take their own course. She found her fingers easing the suit jacket from his back, dropping it to the floor to seek the buttons of his shirt with an urgency echoed in his own dextrous movements.
Her nipples sprang to his touch as both blouse and bra joined his garments on the floor, the ache increasing to almost unbearable proportions when Zac lowered his head to run the very tip of his tongue over the tender flesh. Her skirt slid all the way down her legs, leaving her nude but for the flimsy lace panties that were no barrier against the gentle caress.
She buried her face in the broad expanse of his chest as he swung her up in his arms to carry her across to the wide, canopied bed. Laid there, she watched through slitted eyes as he stood back to remove the rest of his clothing, stirred to even greater depths by the sleek muscularity of waist and hip, the masculine strength in the taut thighs. Already fully aroused, he was magnificent—the essence of manhood in all its prime. Jessica had never wanted anything as much as she wanted what was about to happen between them right now.
She reached for him eagerly, wantonly, as he lowered himself to her side, hearing his sharp intake of breath at the exquisite sensation. With Zac she felt no restriction, just an overpowering desire to explore every inch of the superb male body—to open herself to his exploration—to have him inside her, a part of her.
Zac kissed her again before removing the scrap of material that was the only hindrance left. His touch was delicate, parting the quivering flesh to find the warm, welcoming softness within—drawing a gasp from her own lips as he delved her secret depths. Back arching, face constricted, she gave herself up to the movement, the cry torn from her as she climaxed smothered as he claimed her lips once more.
‘For you,’ he said softly. ‘Now this is for both of us.’
He played her like a violin, his lips and tongue wreaking havoc in their exploration of her whole body, making her writhe in an ecstasy of sensation. She wrapped her arms about the broad shoulders as they merged at last, lost to everything but the moment. They reached the summit in perfect unison, collapsing together to lie in suspended animation while the world steadied around them again.
It took the sudden chill when Zac lifted his weight from her to fetch Jessica back from the land of milk and honey. He didn’t go far, propping himself on an elbow the way he had done that very first night, the smile on his lips echoed in his eyes as he viewed her.
‘I owe you an apology,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid the practicalities went completely from mind. Not a habit of mine, I assure you.’
‘If you’re worried about me being pregnant, you don’t need to be,’ she murmured. She searched the hard-boned features uncertainly, trying, without success, to read the mind behind the grey eyes.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked softly.
‘That most people offered the same opportunity would probably grab it with both hands,’ she admitted.
‘It isn’t an offer I’d consider making to most people.’
‘Then why me in particular?’
Zac studied her arresting face, framed by the spread of chestnut curls over the pillow, dropping his gaze down the curvaceous length of her body and back again with another slow smile. ‘I’d say the answer to that was pretty obvious.’
‘I don’t have anything a thousand other women don’t have,’ she insisted.
‘I haven’t had dealings with a thousand other women,’ he returned equably. ‘Anyway, there’s a lot more to it than just looks. The spark was there from the word go. All it needed was the match.’
‘I’d as soon do without the clichés,’ she retorted, evoking a swift grin.
‘There go some of my best lines!’
Looking into the laughing grey eyes, Jessica felt as if a hand had gripped her heart. It would be so easy to love this man. Why on earth was she hesitating?’
Easy to love, maybe, came the answer, but what about trust? Was it really her he wanted, or just a means to an end?
‘Your grandfather…’ she began, and saw the laughter fade, his mouth take on a straighter line.
‘I can’t pretend he isn’t a factor, but only insofar as the time element is concerned.’
Jessica kept her tone level. ‘You mean, you’d still want me to marry you if he died tonight?’
Zac returned her gaze without a flicker. ‘I’ve never been against marriage itself. I just never met anyone I could contemplate being with on any permanent basis before.’
‘Which you can with me?’
‘Very much so.’
What was she waiting for? Jessica asked herself. How many times in her life was she going to be offered all that Zac could give her? There might be little real depth to what they felt for each other as yet, but that could be true of many a marriage in its early stages.
‘All right,’ she said recklessly. ‘Let’s do it!’
She closed her eyes as his mouth sought hers again.
Waking at first light to see a head on the pillow next to her, Jessica thought for a fleeting moment that she was back in the flat with Paul. Memory brought little reassurance. Last night had been sheer madness! How could she possibly contemplate marrying a man she barely knew?
Judging from his steady breathing, Zac was still deeply asleep. She slid slowly and carefully from the bed, and pulled on her cotton wrap, standing for a moment to gather herself.
The scattering of clothing across the floor bore mute testimony to just how wild a night it had been. She followed the trail, gathering the garments up as she went. A bare week ago she hadn’t even known Zac Prescott existed!
It wasn’t going to happen, of course. Zac would have second thoughts too in the cold light of day. What he needed to do this morning was go back to Dorset and clear things up. His grandfather might be angry enough to do as his grandmother had intimated, but that was a chance he would simply have to take.
As to herself, she would be doing as originally planned and taking advantage of Leonie’s offer. If the idea held little appeal, that was something she was just going to have to live with.
She was standing at the window looking out at the river scene when the strong male arms encircled her waist.
‘Why didn’t you waken me?’ Zac asked softly, nuzzling her ear. ‘I know a far better stimulant than coffee!’
‘Don’t men ever think of anything else?’ Jessica jerked out.
‘Depends on the place, the time and the incentive,’ came the undaunted answer. ‘Particularly the last. I can’t have enough of you!’
Gritting her teeth, she put the coffee cup down on the sill. ‘You’ve had all of me you’re going to get.’
He gave a low laugh. ‘That’s fighting talk, lady!’
‘I mean it!’ She caught at the hand sliding between the edges of her wrap, knowing if he touched her the way he was aiming to do she’d be lost. ‘Let go of me, Zac! I want you to let go of me!’
He did so immediately, standing back with hands raised in mock defence as she turned to face him. He was wearing one of the white towelling robes from the bathroom. It gaped at the chest, revealing the wiry thicket of dark hair she had found such a stimulant last night. She ran the tip of her tongue over lips gone dry, desisting abruptly on seeing the look in the grey eyes as they followed the movement.
Zac put his hands down and leaned against the nearby chest of drawers. His regard was devoid now of humour. ‘So, why the change of mind?’ he asked. ‘You were all for it last night.’
‘Not