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His free hand clasped her neck and began a lazy trail over her collarbone and down past her breasts. Down his fingers trailed, skimming lightly over her belly before slipping further down still.
A gasp escaped her throat and their eyes widened, mirroring each other. Pascha was dumbfounded. He’d known she wanted him but he’d had no idea how deeply her desire ran or how closely it matched his own throbbing need.
Jaw clenched, he fought to keep his head, to keep some basic control.
Snaking one hand around her waist, he used the other to capture her chin and gaze deeply into those mesmerising eyes, the flicker of fire burning from them; they were like precious jewels. Slowly he brought his mouth down and kissed her, her lips parting at the first touch as they forged back together in a fury that threatened to unravel his restraint.
Emily’s fingers skimmed up his chest and her hands hooked around his neck. She pressed into him, moving against his erection, her breasts crushed against him.
Unable to bear the thought of breaking contact with her luscious soft flesh, Pascha half-dragged and half-carried Emily to the bed. There, they fell onto it in a heap, her melodious easy laughter like music.
He gazed in wonder, taking in all the features of her face, from the large brown eyes that glowed with sensuous promise to the heart-shaped lips curved in a half-shy, half-wanton smile. He took in the faint smattering of freckles the sun had exposed on her delicate skin and wondered if a more beautiful woman existed—but, no; in his eyes, that would be impossible. Perfection was lying beneath him hooking an impatient arm around his neck and tugging his head down to capture his lips in a deeply passionate kiss that made his blood burn into a fever.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered before burying his face in her neck and kissing his way down to her perfectly ripe breasts.
Moving his lips over each of them in turn, his need deepening with every second, he forced his mind to detach. He was close to the edge. He could feel it.
Reluctantly he abandoned the softness of her breasts and snaked his way down her body, smiling at her jolt as he moved lower. How many more of her secrets were there to uncover?
Casting his head lower still, over her dark, downy hair, he felt her body tense slightly when he gently prised her thighs apart and laid between her parted legs. Gazing up at her through hooded eyes, he was gratified to see her head thrown back, her breathing shallow through her parted lips.
He dipped his head, his tongue immediately homing in on the nub of her pleasure. She tasted wonderful, of musky, sexy woman. Her breathy, responsive whimpers only served to fire him further, and when her fingers clasped his hair, and she raised her buttocks and writhed beneath him, he feared his own peak was nearing.
And then he felt her stiffen, her whole body lifting from the mattress, her fingers digging into his scalp as her orgasm rippled through her.
The white light flickering behind Emily’s eyelids slowly dispersed. The deep pulses flowing through her body dissolved into a trillion tiny tingles that burrowed from the tips of her toes all the way up to her scalp. Dazed, she lifted her head up and opened her eyes. Pascha’s chin now rested on her abdomen and he was gazing at her with something akin to wonder.
Wordlessly he crawled up the length of her body until he was on top of her, his nose touching hers. Their lips came together and she wrapped her arms around him, the bodies pressed together so tightly it was impossible to know where she began and he ended.
A whimper of panic flew from her mouth when he pulled—ripped—away from their embrace.
Placing a tender finger to her lips, he smiled crookedly. ‘I must get some protection.’
She twitched a nod and attempted a smile in return. As she watched his retreating figure head to the bathroom, she took deep breaths, trying desperately to contain the ragged beat of her heart.
Pascha was back by her side in less than thirty seconds yet those beats seemed interminably long.
Her gaze moved to the square silver packet in his hand.
He gathered a handful of curls and moved them aside to place a solitary kiss on her neck. Looking back at her, his eyes burned, sparkles flying into her and liquefying her core all over again. ‘Do you want to put it on?’
But Emily’s hand was shaking. It was nothing but anticipation, she frantically told herself. She was a twenty-first-century woman.
So why, then, did she suddenly feel so vulnerable?
She wanted this more than she had wanted anything in her life. And that was terrifying.
He leaned forward and kissed her, a kiss full of passion and hunger, a kiss that blew everything else from her mind. She slipped a hand down his arm and caught hold of his fingers. Together, their lips still locked, they rolled the condom on. Done, Pascha smoothly manoeuvred her onto her back and pushed her legs apart, his big hands stroking her thighs before curving up her sides, up the sides of her breasts, up to her neck, before resting on the pillow either side of her head.
