An Heir to Bind Them. Dani CollinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
she’d got her out of India. That dark time was being overcome, here, tonight, with this man. “I’m clean, too.”
He searched her face. She recognized the glaze of concentration in his eyes as a passionate force. It nearly squeezed the air right out of her.
“Swear to me you’ll take that pill.” His lips barely moved.
“My family would take out a contract on me if I had a baby outside of marriage.”
He held himself in steely control and she could almost hear the computations of risk against desire. “I don’t want to be a father. Ever. If you’re thinking this might lead to something—”
“No!” she insisted, casting for the right words. “It’s like you said about not wanting to think about certain things. I want something different in my mind.” A new memory. A good one. “A baby would be a disaster. But I want to feel...you,” she ended in a whisper.
His nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath, his nod brief and sharp before he pulled away, gathering her up as he found his feet. The strength in him as he lifted her and held her cradled to his chest made bells ring in her ears, but she found herself curling her arm around his neck and burying her face into the masculine scent in the crook near his shoulder.
What she had said was broad enough to be true in many ways. She wanted to think of men differently, but there was a part of her deeply enthralled in the now. She could barely form a thought beyond her need for physical contact with this man.
He set her on the bed and straightened, not turning on the light. Only the faint glimmer from the pool deck through the windows penetrated.
She hugged her knees as she watched him slide his belt free and toss it away, toeing off his shoes at the same time.
“Are we taking turns? Because I’m dying to see you,” he said with enough ragged edge on his voice to make her shiver.
She looked down at her crumpled uniform, her shirt open, her bra still loose across her chest. Shyness was the only thing holding her back from undressing, she realized with a glistening lilt of joy. Not fear, just natural self-consciousness about undressing in front of a man.
As she hesitantly drew her shirt off her shoulders she confessed, “You’ve seen a lot of women. I don’t know how I’ll compare.”
Down to his briefs as he peeled away his socks, he said, “I’m not very sure of my ability to hang on until I’ve given you everything I want you to have. I do not want to be the selfish bastard you compare every future lover to.”
He wouldn’t be, not by a long shot. And even though a quick coupling was probably better for her, given her hang-ups, she doubted it was a good thing to say. Besides, he stole the shirt she was trying to fold and lifted her bra away, dropping both to the floor. The air-conditioned room made her curl her toes, incredibly self-conscious of her naked breasts and beaded nipples as she forced her hands to remain beside her hips.
Sitting there in the half-light, staring at his muscled frame, she was accosted by a pull in her abdomen, but it wasn’t fear or misgivings. It was longing. She wanted his hot, muscled body on hers. She wanted to feel those hard thighs between her own without cloth between them.
He started to remove her sandals and she kicked them off herself, letting him ease her onto her back in a sprawl under him as he loomed over her. The brush of his skin against hers was brand-hot, making her quiver with disconcertion. But the reassuring stroke of his hand up her waist to cup her breast calmed her nerves even as his expert touch sensitized her.
“Did I mention my addiction to cocoa?” he asked huskily. “I could sip these chocolate nipples of yours all night.”
He bent to enclose her in wet heat and the return of excitement was like a blow, bringing up one of her knees. Sweet delight flashed through her, rippling waves of pleasure that didn’t fade, only increased.
“I want to kiss you,” she admitted as he shifted to tease her other breast. A coiled knot of tension pulled in her abdomen. It made her bold, impatient for the build and release of orgasm.
As he lifted his head to look at her, he skimmed a hand down, silently asking her to lift her hips so he could push her skirt off. When had he lowered the zipper?
She complied and he reared up onto his knees, stealing the last of her clothes. Her thighs twitched, locking closed in nervous tension while she stared at the black briefs hugged tight to his hips and thighs. His erection was a thick, unapologetic ridge behind the stretchy fabric.
He sat back on his heels, knees splayed, hands in loose fists against his thighs. He let out a harsh breath, like he was under strain. “God, you’re pretty.”
He says it to all of them, she warned herself, but she couldn’t help smiling. The way he studied her with the intensity he usually reserved for spreadsheets, but had that light of excitement and wolfish half smile on his face, seemed like genuine admiration. It affected her, relaxing her and making her want to writhe invitingly—if only she knew how.
“Will you kiss me again? Please?” She lifted a hand and he let out a gruff laugh as he stretched out beside her, leaning over her.
“I’ll kiss every inch of you.” He gathered her up to his muscled body and she felt bruised by the hardness of him. He was so hot, so strong beneath his taut, satiny skin. She couldn’t resist stroking his back and shoulders as he kissed her. Their tongues flicked and delved and it felt totally natural. Better than natural. Necessary.
She did writhe then, moved by instinct, body involuntarily lifting into the stroke of his hands, arching to push her breast into his cupped palm, rolling her face into his caressing fingertips when he dragged his mouth to her neck. Then he was laving her nipple again, bringing the ferocious need into her loins. Mother Nature had a plan, quite obviously. She ached for attention between her thighs.
If only she knew how to make love as well as he did. He massaged her belly and grazed fingertips along the seam of her thighs, inciting her to relax them open. Then, finally, he was tracing into her wet heat, penetrating easily into the dampness that welcomed him. His caress was so stunningly good. As his thumb rolled over the taut peak of her clitoris, tiny sparks shimmered through her, gathering toward the implosion. She gasped, awed that she could feel this way again, from this deeply intimate touch.
He shifted, licked under her breast and kissed a trail down her abdomen.
“Theo,” she panted.
“Every inch, Jaya.” He left off caressing her and used his damp hand to crook her knee open, pressing a firm kiss to her inner thigh.
“No, Theo, please don’t.”
“Don’t be shy.” He came back onto his elbow beside her, his expression so feral and aroused she ought to have been terrified, but his voice was calm and controlled, his hand on her navel soothing. “I am seriously worried about not being able to last once I get my skivvies off. Let me make it good for you.”
While a nervous giggle bubbled in her at his blunt remark, she knew her limits.
“This is good for me.” Her voice hitched with deep emotion and she glanced up through stinging eyes, hoping he couldn’t see in the shadowed light how out of sorts she was—enthralled and uneasy, but resolved. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He muttered a curse, closing his eyes and averting his face.
Pressing into the mattress, she asked warily, “Are you angry?”
“What? No. But you’re not helping my control with talk like that. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to be inside you? Years. Since the first time I saw you.”
He jackknifed off the bed, giving her space as he continued his grumbling tirade while stripping his briefs.
“You said earlier that you didn’t know I thought about you this way. Well, you’ve never once hinted you did, either. Do you know how sexy it is to hear you want me?”
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