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Excerpt
His powerful arms closed firmly around her waist and he pulled her close to him lifting her from the smooth sand on the bottom of the sun-sparkling sea. His hard-as-a-rock manhood nested in between her buttocks. Her mouth emitted a sensuous wanton groan. How deliciously small she was. She fit in his arms delightfully and he wanted to wrap her in him forever.
His desire for her was taking him to the rims of insanity. His mind could only produce images of what he wanted to do with her. He wanted in her. Deep, thrust until he lost touch with reality. One of his thumbs hooked on the thin strap around her hips, pulling it down. He palmed her backside fully, revelling on the smoothness of it. The sea currents juggled their bodies, making them rub on each other.
She had become a sack of sensations. One of her arms rose to hold his thick neck, which stretched her body for his utter satisfaction. It was when his thumb left the strap and all his fingers sneaked inside the insignificant patch of cloth. His fore-finger found her lubricous and ready.
“I need you, Amy!” A hoarse plead. “I need to be inside you. Now!”
His voice revolved the fire in her and spread it to every single cell in her body. She struggled to keep her clear thought on the surface of a drowning desire. But the latter was surpassing the former, surging in her like a Vulcan, burning her entire body in its wake. She was empty, oh, so in need of him!
Prologue
Mark Benton parked his top-of-the-range car in the garage of his a-little-too-shabby Georgian mansion and walked to the front door. It had been a hard day. He was the president and owner of a security system company that was beginning to take off rapidly. He had his head down, his fingers sorting the key. As he neared the door he lifted his head and saw someone sitting on the door step.
It was a girl in jeans and tee shirt. She had her face down, her long, brown hair in shinny curls, the shade of cinnamon, was caught in a rubber-band. There was no way of seeing who it was. A back-pack placed beside her.
Mark felt annoyed to see a trespasser there. But he couldn’t really call her a trespasser, since the iron gates stood open due to their rusty state, which made it impossible to close. He had to fix so many things in this house, only that all the extra money he was earning, he was reinvesting in the company. He planned to refurbish this recent acquisition as soon as finances stabilized.
He neared her. She seemed so engrossed in her thoughts she didn’t see him. As his shadow poured on her, she raised her face to him. He winced at her beautiful eyes set on a perfect heart-shaped face. His deep eyes recognised her instantly. Amy Holt, his cousin’s step-daughter by marriage.
Amy set eyes on this semi-stranger and apprehension dominated her. She couldn’t think anywhere else to go and she couldn’t afford having doubts or modesty right now; she just had to try. But regarding this six-feet-five dark haired man with an air of power and command about him made her just want to run for her life. Linda Holt, her step-mother, always talked marvels about him on the rare occasions they met, funerals, mostly. Her step-mother’s own funeral was two years ago.
Mark remembered last seeing her at Linda’s funeral. Linda passed away after struggling with breast cancer. They, Linda and he, hadn’t been very close, but he had a few recollections of their childhood, when they came to visit his parents. She had gotten married with a widower, Howard Holt, who had a daughter, Amy. How old must she be now? Fifteen, sixteen?
“Amy, what a surprise!” He could not think of anything smarter to say as he stopped in front of her.
“Hello, Mr. Benton.” Her translucent eyes wide and transparent, as her fears poured through them. She raised from the door step.
Mark was a little amazed when he saw how much she had grown up to be a fine teenager girl, not so tall, but a well-built bone-structure.
“I am sorry to come without notice.” Her upturned nose tilted higher. “My father passed away a month ago, and I have nowhere and no one to turn to.”
Mark focused his remarkable eyes on her, taken aback. He hadn’t had any such news. Maybe, he himself was the one to blame after all. Since his old mother was buried, he lost contact with his relatives. “I am sorry to hear that.” They stared awkwardly at each other. “Let’s just come in and we can talk more about that, shall we?”
She smiled seemingly relieved, a trifle at least. She stepped in and left her back-pack on the floor beside the door. She watched him walking ahead and thought she hadn’t remembered he was so good-looking.
The sitting-room was huge, the paint was peeling and it lacked furniture. The curtains hung dusty and old-fashioned. He showed her a torn-upholstery chair.
“I bought this house six months ago, but I am still saving for the refurbishing.” He tilted his head looking at the left over piece.
“I see.” She sat on the edge of the armchair, hands held tight on her lap.
Mark called the housekeeper and ordered some tea. Meanwhile his thoughts worked overdrive. What was he going to do with this teenager? Without anybody she could be sent to social services. If he followed his will, he’d let things go their course.
