The Venetian's Proposal. Lee WilkinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
once again her knees turned to water and her very bones seemed to melt, so that she was forced to lean against him for support.
His arms went around her, and as her lips parted helplessly beneath his he deepened the kiss.
It was like a brilliant flash of light, showing up both past and future, a revelation that was followed by a deep, black velvet darkness.
When he took her hand and led her into her room, closing the door behind them, she made not the slightest protest, conscious only of him and the need he had aroused.
Setting her back to the panels, one hand on the warmth of her nape, he bent to kiss her again while his free hand began to smooth over her slender figure: the small waist, the flare of her hip, the curve of her buttocks.
After a while the silk chiffon became an unwelcome barrier and, unzipping her dress, he eased it off her shoulders, allowing it to fall at her feet. Then his lips left hers to sensuously explore the line of her collarbone and the smooth skin of her shoulder.
When they reached the tender junction where neck and shoulder met, his kisses changed to little nibbling bites that made her stomach clench and her toes curl.
His mouth returning to hers, he unclipped her strapless bra and, cupping one of her small, firm breasts, brushed his thumb over the nipple.
While she was still struggling to cope with the sensations he was provoking, he bent his head and, having laved the other erect nipple, took it into his mouth and suckled sweetly.
She was suddenly into sensual overload, the pleasure so intense that she gave a little moan and, running her fingers into his dark hair, held his head away from her breast.
A moment later she was swept up in his arms and carried to the bed. The only light was from the street outside, but in the gloom she saw the gleam of his eyes as he laid her carefully on top of the covers and sat down beside her to take off what remained of her clothing.
CHAPTER THREE
IT WAS so long since she had been tenderly held and made love to, so long since she had felt the warmth of being needed, that far from objecting, half choked by eagerness, she would have helped him had it been necessary.
But his hands were both gentle and deft, and though he didn’t linger, neither did he show the slightest sign of haste.
When she was totally naked, he said with a kind of urgency, ‘Let your hair loose,’ and, as she lifted her hands to obey, began to strip off his own clothes.
As her hair came tumbling around her shoulders, he sat on the edge of the bed and, running his fingers into the thick silky mass, began to kiss her again.
When he finally joined her on the bed, her arms were ready to welcome him, but stretching out beside her, he propped himself on one elbow, taking time to pleasure her, while he enjoyed a body that, he told her softly, was the loveliest he’d ever seen.
As he stroked and touched and tasted, she clenched and unclenched her hands, lost and mindless, caught up and engulfed by the kind of suffocating hunger and excitement she had never experienced in her life before.
Everything he was doing now only served to suck her deeper into a black and spinning whirlpool of desire, and by the time he made them one she was a quivering mass of sensations and desperate for the release that only he could provide.
Nicola floated to the surface to find it was broad daylight. The curtains hadn’t been pulled to, and the early-morning sun was pouring in.
For a little while she lay half-asleep and half-awake, gazing up at the white ceiling, where a reflected sunbeam danced. She felt relaxed and contented in a way she hadn’t felt for years.
She was trying lazily to brush aside the last clinging cobwebs of sleep to find the reason for her euphoria when, as though in answer, her mind was filled with thoughts of Dominic.
Memories of his dark, handsome face and the infinite rapture and delight he had given her came flooding back.
Her heart filled to overflowing, she turned her head.
She was alone in the bed, and his clothes had vanished. Presumably, for the look of the thing, he had gone back to his own room. But just the imprint of his head in the pillow beside her, and the recollection of his lovemaking, was as warming as the sun.
For so long the world had seemed a cold and lonely place. No love, no warmth, no joy. She had denied and suppressed all her natural needs, keeping her longings and emotions packed away in ice while life went on around her.
Now, as though to make up for the blows it had inflicted, fate had offered her a second chance of happiness.
A chance she had snatched at in a way that was not only completely unlike her but which, in her right mind, she would have regarded as wild and irresponsible.
In the normal course of events a new relationship would have moved forward at a steadier rate—getting to know one another, becoming friends, and then finally lovers.
But somehow they had skipped the first two stages. All she knew about Dominic was what she had discovered in a single afternoon and evening. That he was an excellent companion, intelligent and charming, with a dry humour and a curiously old-fashioned sense of chivalry.
She had no real idea what made him tick as a person.
After all her foster mother’s dire warnings she had gone to bed with a man she had only just met; a man who was a virtual stranger. A departure from the norm that she was forced to admit was dangerous to the point of lunacy.
Though she couldn’t regret a moment of it, she found herself wondering what on earth had made her behave so recklessly.
Too much alcohol had undoubtedly contributed, by putting her on a high and lulling her inhibitions. But if she was truthful, she knew the alcohol wasn’t to blame.
She had found Dominic irresistibly attractive from the word go, and the whole magical evening—the drive, the schloss, the ambience, the good food and wonderful scenery—had all played a part.
A scene set for seduction.
Except that she couldn’t blame him. She had wanted what happened. Probably more than he had, she admitted, recalling his first reaction to what she now realised uneasily must have appeared to be a come-on.
Perhaps if she explained to him that she wasn’t used to drinking…? Or would it be better to say nothing? She didn’t want him to feel guilty in any way, or think that she was trying to put the blame on him.
But why should there be any suggestion of guilt or blame? He certainly hadn’t pressured her. She had been a willing partner…
And it had been wonderful. She sighed. As well as being a skilful lover, he had been generous and considerate and, remembering the controlled passion of his lovemaking, her heart began to beat faster.
Jeff’s lovemaking had been kind and tender, warm and caring, but she hadn’t realised until last night how much it had lacked passion. Or skill.
How much she had missed.
Her main pleasure, quite often her only pleasure, had been lying in his arms afterwards, happy that he was satisfied and contented.
Maybe it had been her own fault. Perhaps she had felt too inhibited to let go and enjoy the side of marriage that she was convinced her foster mother had secretly regarded as ‘not quite nice’.
Things might have been different if she and Jeff had managed to get away—get away…she was using Dominic’s words—but it was no use thinking about what might have been. That part of her life was over. Fate had written finis to it.
Now, at last, with John’s encouragement, and having met Dominic, she was moving forward into a new, exciting, and hopefully much happier phase.
Thinking of Dominic, and recalling how he had mentioned getting an early start, she glanced at her watch. It was