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‘I...’
‘Anything,’ he muttered. ‘As much or as little as you like.’
Because he wanted this too. She felt the tremble in his fingers and it gave her confidence. Somehow she knew he was as taken aback as she by this conflagration. She might not have the experience, but she had the intuition to understand this was physical passion at its strongest.
Her legs quivered but she let him slide the satin skirt of her dress higher. It glided all the way up to her waist, exposing her almost completely. Her legs were bared, her chest, only her middle was covered in a swathe of blue. She sighed helplessly as that hard ridge of him pressed where she was aching most.
She struggled to unfasten his shirt buttons; she wanted to see his skin. To feel it. He helped her, pulling the halves of his shirt apart. For a moment she just stared. She’d known he was strong, she’d felt that. But the definition of his tense muscles—the pecs, the abs—still took her by surprise. The light scattering of hair added to the perfection. He was the ultimate specimen of masculinity. She raised her gaze, meeting the fire in his, and understood the strength he was holding in check.
‘Touch all you like,’ he muttered, a guttural command.
She liked it all. Suddenly stupidly nervous, she pressed her palm over his chest—feeling the hardness and heat of him. But she could feel the thump of his heart too and somehow that grounded her. She read the desire in his eyes, intuitively understanding how leashed his passion was. That he, like she, wanted it all.
‘Touch me,’ she choked. Her command—and his reply—dislodged the last brick in the wall that had been damming her desire inside. She did not want him to hold back with her.
He caressed her breasts with his hands, teasing her as she rocked on him, rubbing in the way the basic instinct of her body dictated—back and forth and around.
‘So good,’ she muttered, savouring the pressure of his mouth, the sweep of his hands, the hardness of him under her. ‘So good.’
It was so foreign. So delicious. Feverish with desire, she arched. Pleasure beyond imagination engulfed her as faster they moved together. Kisses became ravenous. Hands swept hard over skin. Heat consumed her. She moaned, her head falling back as he touched her in places she’d never been touched. As he brought her sensuality to life.
She heard a tearing sound and realised it had been the crotch of her panties. They’d not survived the strength of his grip. She glanced and saw he’d tossed the remnants of white silk and lace onto the wide seat. Now she could feel his hand touching her again so much more intimately.
‘Oh.’
She dragged in a searing breath and gazed into his eyes.
‘That’s it, Blue,’ he enticed her in that devilish whisper. ‘Come on.’
She couldn’t answer—not as his fingers circled, and slipped along the slick cleft of her sex, not as they teased that sensitive nub over and over and over. She bit her lip as that searing tension deep in her belly tightened. She rocked, her rhythm matching the pace of his fingers as they strummed over and around her. He kissed her, his tongue soothing the indent of her teeth on her lip, then stroking inside her mouth in an intimate exploration of her private space. Just as his finger probed within her too.
She tore her mouth from his and threw her head back, arching in agony as she gasped for breath. He fixed his mouth on her breast, drawing her nipple in deep. Pleasure shot from one sensitive point to another, rolling in violent waves across her body. She shuddered in exquisite agony, crying out as she was completely lost to this raw, writhing bliss.
When she opened her eyes she saw he was watching her, his hand gently stroking her thigh.
She breathed out, summoning calm and failing. Giddy, she gazed at him, stunned by the realisation that she’d just had an orgasm. She’d let him touch her and kiss her and he’d made the most amazing feelings flood through her. But the hunger had returned already and brought that special kind of anger with it.
That emptiness blossomed, bigger than before. There was more to this electricity between them. More that she’d missed. More that she wanted.
A chasm stretched before her. A choice. A line that, once crossed, could never be reclaimed. But it was her choice. And suddenly she knew exactly how she wanted this one thing in her life to be. Within her control.
For this first time—for only this time—she wanted physical intimacy with a man who truly wanted her back. A man who wanted not her title, not her purity or connections. Just her—naked and no one special. This man knew nothing of who or what she was, but he wanted her. This was not love, no. But pure, basic, brilliant lust.
Just this once, she would be wanted for nothing but herself.
Almost angrily she shifted on him, pressing close again, kissing him. He kissed her back, as hard, as passionate. She moaned in his mouth. Willing him to take over. But he drew back, pressing his hand over hers, stopping her from sliding her palm down his chiselled chest to his belt.
‘We’re going to be in trouble in a second,’ he groaned. ‘Stop.’
She stared dazedly into his face as he eased her back along his thighs, almost crying at his rejection.
‘I need to keep you safe,’ he muttered as his hands worked quickly to release his zipper. ‘One second. To be safe.’
She couldn’t compute his comment because at that moment his erection sprang free. Never had she seen a man naked. Never had she touched. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small packet that he tore open with his teeth. Her mouth dried as she stared avidly.
Of course he was prepared. He was an incredibly handsome, virile man who knew exactly how to turn her on because he was experienced. He was used to this kind of anonymous tryst and he definitely knew how to make a woman feel good. And that was...okay.
As she tore her gaze away from the magnificence of him she caught sight of their reflections in that gleaming mirror again. The image of those two strangers—half naked and entwined—was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life. Their pasts didn’t matter. Nor did their futures. There was only this. Only them. Only now. She turned back to look at the overwhelming man she was sitting astride with such vulnerability—and with such desire.
Princess Eleni always did the right thing.
But she wasn’t Princess Eleni tonight. She was no one and this was nothing.
‘Easy, Blue.’ He gently stroked her arm.
She realised her breathing was completely audible—rushed and short.
‘Just whatever you want,’ he muttered softly.
He wasn’t just inviting her. He was giving her the choice, all the control. Yet his voice and his body both commanded and compelled her own and there was no choice.
This once. This one time. She wanted everything—all of him. She shimmied closer. The sight of his huge straining erection made her quiver and melt. She didn’t know how to do this. She looked into his eyes and was lost in that intensity. And suddenly she understood.
She kissed him. Kissed him long and deep and softened in the delight. In the rightness of the sensation. She could feel him there beneath her. She rocked her hips, as she’d done before, feeling him slide through her feminine folds. His hands gripped her hips, holding her, helping her. She pressed down, right on that angle, every sense on high alert and anticipation. But her body resisted, unyielding.
She wanted this.
So she pushed down hard. Unexpectedly sharp pain pierced the heated fog of desire.
‘Blue?’ A burning statue beneath her; his breathing was ragged as he swore. ‘I’ve—’
‘I’m fine,’ she pleaded, willing her body to welcome his.
‘You’re tight,’ he said between gritted teeth.
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‘You’re big.’
He filled her completely—beneath her, about her, within her. The force and fire of his personality scalded her. Her breath shuddered as she was locked in his embrace, and in the intense heat of his gaze.
‘Have I hurt you?’ His question came clipped.
‘No.’ It wasn’t regret that burned within her, but recognition. This was what she wanted. ‘Kiss me.’
And he did. He kissed her into that pure state of bliss once more. Into heat and light and sparkling rainbows and all kinds of magic that were miraculous and new. Touching him ignited her and she moved restlessly, eager to feel him touching her again too. That fullness between her legs eased. Honeyed heat bloomed and she slid closer still to him. She sighed, unable to remain still any more. His arms tightened around her, clasping her to him as he kissed her back—exactly how she needed. Yes. This was so good, it had to be right. He shifted her, sliding her back, and then down hard on the thick column of his manhood.
He suddenly stood, taking her weight with no apparent difficulty. Startled, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her in approval and took those few paces to where that narrow table stretched along the wall. He stood at the short end and carefully placed her right on the edge of it, then slowly he eased her so she lay on her back on the cool wood. Her legs were wound around his waist, her hips tilted upwards as he braced over her, his shaft still driven to the hilt inside her. That mirror was right beside her now but she didn’t turn her head to look again at those strangers; she couldn’t. Her wicked rake claimed every ounce of her focus.
‘This is madness,’ he muttered. ‘But I don’t care.’
Nor did she. This moment was too perfect. Too precious. Too much to be denied.
His large hands cupped her, holding her as he pressed into her deeply, and then pulled back a fraction, only to push forward again. Again, then again, then again. Every time he seemed to drive deeper, claiming more and more of her. And she gave it to him. She would give him everything, he made her feel so good. He gazed into her eyes and in his she saw the echo of her own emotions—wonder, pleasure, need.
