Claimed by the Millionaire: The Wealthy Frenchman's Proposition. Michelle CelmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
She moaned, a sweet sound that he captured in her mouth. She tilted her head to the side immediately to allow him better access. She held his shoulders and moved on him, rubbing her center over his erection.
Gently he scraped his fingernail over her nipple again and she shivered in his arms. He pushed her back a little bit so he could see her. Her breasts were bare, nipples distended and begging for his mouth. He lowered his head and suckled.
He held her still with a hand on the small of her back. He buried his other hand in her hair and arched her over his arm. Both of her breasts were thrust up at him. He had been with many women, but he knew that he wanted Sheri more than he’d wanted any other woman in a long time. What the hell? This was sex, not about wanting her.
He wouldn’t let this be about anything other than the physical. One night together.
“Tristan?”
“Hmm?”
“Okay?”
Damn. He didn’t want her out of the moment. “I’m fine. Just enjoying you, ma petite.”
Her eyes were closed, her hips moving subtly against him, and when he blew on her nipple he saw gooseflesh spread down her body.
He loved the way she reacted to his mouth on her breasts. Her nipples were so sensitive, he was pretty sure he could bring her to orgasm just from touching her there.
The globes of her breasts were full and fleshy, more than a handful. He licked the lily-white valley between them, suckling at her to leave his mark. He wanted her to remember this moment, what they had done, when she was alone later.
Soon her hands clenched in his hair and she rocked her hips harder against his length. He lifted his hips, thrusting up against her. He bit down carefully on one tender, aroused nipple. She cried his name and he hurriedly covered her mouth with his, wanting to feel every bit of her passion. He was so hard he thought he’d die if he didn’t get inside her.
He glanced down at her and saw that she was watching him. The fire in her eyes made his entire body tighten with anticipation.
Since he’d always prided himself on being a conscientious lover, he knew he should ask about birth control, but that could be a mood killer with some women. So instead he reached for the condom he’d put in his pocket earlier before leaving for the reception. He’d planned to get laid so he could assuage the memories of his own wedding but he’d never anticipated he’d be here now with Sheri.
“Tristan.” She said his name with the hint of shyness he’d noticed in her earlier.
“Yes,” he said.
“I’m not…really good at this.”
“You will be in my arms.”
She shook her head. “Don’t wait for me to…well, you know. It’s hard for me.”
“It won’t be with me.”
“Tristan—”
“Shh,” he said, pulling her back into his arms and setting about arousing her again to the point where she would forget that she supposedly couldn’t orgasm. Because of her cheeky attitude, he hadn’t realized how innocent Sheri was. She seemed like a confident woman, comfortable with who she was, and only here on the balcony with her in his arms did he realize that she was as big a fraud as he was.
“Come to me now.”
She reached between his legs and fondled him, cupping him in her hands, and he shuddered. He needed to be inside her now. He eased her panties off then shifted and lifted her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist as he leaned back against the wall of the balcony. The sky was full of stars and the lights of Mykonos spread out below them. Her hands fluttered between them and their eyes met.
He held her hips steady and entered her slowly, deeply, pulling her down on him until he was fully seated. Her eyes widened with each inch he gave her. She clutched at his hips as he started thrusting. He leaned down and caught one of her nipples in his teeth, scraping very gently. She started to tighten around him. Her hips moved faster, demanding more, but he kept the pace slow, steady, wanting her to come before he did.
He suckled her nipple and rotated his hips to catch her pleasure point with each thrust, and he felt her hands in his hair clenching as she threw her head back and her climax ripped through her.
He varied his thrusts, finding a rhythm that would draw out the tension at the base of his spine. Something that would make his time in her body, wrapped in her silky limbs, last forever.
He turned them around so that she was pressed against the wall, then he tilted her hips, giving himself deeper access to her body. She scraped her nails down his back, clutched his buttocks and drew him in. He tightened, and his blood roared in his ears as he felt everything in his world center on this one woman.
He called her name as he came. She tightened around him and he looked down into her eyes as he kept thrusting. He saw her eyes widen and felt the minute contractions of her body around his as she was consumed by another orgasm.
He rocked his hips against her until she stopped moving. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the underside of his chin.
“Thank you.”
“For what, ma petite?”
“For giving me this night. It’s like something out of one of my dreams.”
With those words she brought him completely out of himself and into a place he’d been only once before. A place of vulnerability that he’d hoped never to find again.
Tristan carried her back into the villa. Sheri didn’t get a chance to look at the place though, as he carried her straight to the bedroom.
He put her on her feet next to the bed.
As she stood naked in front of him, he traced the strawberry birthmark on her right hip. She felt so vulnerable, standing with him looking at her. He’d refastened his pants and his shirt hung open, but he was still essentially dressed and she was naked.
She crossed her arms over herself, one across her breasts, the other over her lower body.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice deeper than normal, his French accent more pronounced.
“I’m not…”
“Not what?”
“I look better with clothes on,” she said at last.
He shook his head. “Not those baggy frocks you wear in the office.”
“You don’t like the way I look at work?”
He traced his finger over the edge where her right arm covered her breasts. His finger dipped beneath her arm to caress the upper curves of her breast. “I like the way you look. It is those frumpy clothes you wear that I don’t like.”
“Frumpy?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not good with fashion,” she said, not sure why she was telling him this. In the darkened bedroom, with her body still tingling from the incredible orgasms he’d helped her achieve, she felt oddly relaxed. If only she was wearing something. “Why don’t you take your shirt off?”
“Would you like me to?”
“Yes, definitely.”
He shrugged out of it, and she reached for it before he could toss it aside. She put her arms in the sleeves, but he held the two sides open. “I like you naked.”
“I feel too exposed.”
“Why?”
She felt more vulnerable now than she had just a second before. She just shrugged.
He