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Claimed by the Millionaire. Katherine GarberaЧитать онлайн книгу.

Claimed by the Millionaire - Katherine Garbera


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and the very essence of him seeping into her cold and lonely soul.

      She suckled his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth. His hands tightened on her and his erection brushed against her lower belly. She swallowed hard and pulled back, looking up at him.

      She had a little sexual experience, but nothing that had made her feel like Tristan was.

      “What is it?” he asked, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked her skin and she looked up into his warm gray eyes and felt something shift inside her.

      “Why me?”

      “Why not you?”

      She shook her head and realized that, if she asked questions, she should be prepared to hear an answer that might not be what she was searching for.

      But she’d never been a coward, and this night with Tristan…well, she wanted to make the most of it. Be someone she’d never been before.

      “Seriously, why are you making a move now?”

      “That sounds so crass, ma petite. I have no ulterior motive. I have a beautiful woman in my arms and I don’t want to let her go.”

      “I’m not beautiful,” she said, because she knew it was true. There were truly beautiful people in the world and she wasn’t one of them. She was more apt to be described based on her sterling personality. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, it was just that there was nothing that really made her stand out.

      “Tonight you sparkle,” he said.

      She felt her cheeks heat up with a blush. He lowered his head once again, kissing her, and in his arms she realized she did feel beautiful. She felt worthy to be on his arm as they got in his black Lamborghini and drove through the narrow streets of Mykonos.

      He kept her hand on his thigh and his hand on top of hers, moving only to shift gears, and occasionally to lift her hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it.

      She leaned her head back against the leather seat and turned to watch him. Tristan Sabina…she couldn’t believe she was alone with him at last.

      Tristan parked the Lamborghini behind his villa and got out. Sheri had her door opened before he got there. He offered his hand to help her out of the car. He saw the surprise in her eyes as she took it.

      He realized that no one had ever been good to her in the way that men should be toward women. He wanted to change that, at least for tonight.

      When she was standing next to him, he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. He led the way into his house, tossing his keys on the kitchen countertop and hitting the light switch. She stood awkwardly just inside the doorway. Was this the moment when she’d change her mind?

      He wouldn’t pressure her into staying, he thought. Then she nibbled on her lower lip and his entire body went on point. God, he wanted her. Why now?

      He’d had a few inconvenient fantasies since they’d arrived here on Mykonos. Away from the office, Sheri had dropped her barriers and started to relax. He’d always liked her cheeky attitude, but seeing her in shorts on Christos’s yacht during the week and tonight in this dress that actually fit her…well, it got to him.

      He tried to remind himself that she was his assistant and that this was the kind of situation that Rene always warned him against. Fraternization was firmly frowned upon at the Sabina Group, especially by the CEO, Tristan’s older brother, Rene.

      And frankly, now that she was here in the villa, she seemed nervous. Not at all like the sexy woman he’d held in his arms on the dance floor.

      “Would you like a drink?”

      “No thank you,” she said. “I… Show me your place.”

      He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and tossed it on the bar stool at the kitchen counter. He led her out of the kitchen into a formal reception room and up the stairs to the living room. He’d put on some music and dance with her again. That would relax her like nothing else would.

      And he’d have her back in his arms.

      “Look at the view,” she said as they stepped into his living room. One wall was all windows, showcasing the view of the city of Mykonos and the Aegean Sea.

      “It’s even more spectacular from the balcony. Would you like to see that?”

      She nodded.

      He put his hand on the small of her back and lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her slowly. She shifted in his arms, turning to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

      Blood rushed through his veins, pooling in his groin. He lifted his head. Her lips were wet and a little swollen from his kisses. “Come, let me show you the view.”

      He led her outside and the cool evening air surrounded them. She rubbed her hands over her arms. He brushed her hands aside, caressing her and pulling her back against his body.

      He kissed her neck and shoulders as she stood still under his touches. Then she turned around and rose up on her tiptoes, taking his mouth with hers. Her tongue teased his and he realized that, though she was a little nervous, she was with him right now.

      Wanting him the way he wanted her.

      He felt her fingers at his neck, loosening his bow tie and then tossing it away. “Can I unbutton your shirt?”

      “Yes.”

      She did with slow touches. “You have a great body, Tristan.”

      “How do you know?”

      “I saw it in People magazine’s spread on you last summer. A photo of you at the beach.”

      He growled deep in his throat when she leaned forward to brush kisses against his neck. Her lips were sweetly shy as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Then she nibbled her way lower, and he felt the edge of her teeth graze his skin.

      He watched her, his eyes narrowing and his pants feeling damned uncomfortable. Her tongue darted out and brushed his nipple. He arched against her and put his hand on the back of her head, urging her to stay where she was.

      She put her hands on his shoulders and eased her way down his chest. She traced the muscles that ribbed his abdomen and then slowly made her way lower. He could feel his heartbeat in his erection and he knew he was going to lose it if he didn’t take control.

      But another part of him wanted to let her have her way with him. When she reached the edge of his pants, she stopped and glanced up his body to his face.

      Her hand brushed over his straining length. “I guess you like that.”

      He muttered the French equivalent to the American “Hell, yeah,” and pulled her to him. He lifted her slightly so that her breasts brushed his chest. “Now it is my turn,” he said.

      Blood roared in his ears. He was so hard, so full that he needed to be inside of her body right now.

      Impatient with the fabric of her dress, he drew it up over her head and tossed it out of his way. No bra. He caressed her creamy thighs. God, she was soft. She moaned as he neared her center and then sighed when he brushed his fingertips across the V of her panties.

      The cotton was warm and wet. He slipped one finger under the material and hesitated for a second, looking down into her eyes.

      They were heavy-lidded. She bit down on her lower lip and he felt the minute movements of her hips as she tried to move his touch where she needed it.

      He was beyond teasing her or prolonging anything. He pressed her panties aside, slipping two fingers into her humid body. She squirmed against him.

      He pulled her head to his so he could taste her mouth. Her lips parted and he told himself to take it slow, that Sheri wasn’t used to him. But one touch and he was out of control.

      He held her at his mercy. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she pressed upward.


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