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She did it mindlessly, her dress sliding high on her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly. She hooked her legs around his waist. Kissing her again, Ben slipped a hand underneath the dress and explored between the lace of her panties and her bottom, caressing her bare skin. She moaned into his mouth, dizzy.
Her bare upper back was against one mirrored wall of the lift, and Ben angled his hips so that the bulge of his erection pressed against her, between her legs, where she was wet and hot.
Her dress felt too tight. But even as she was thinking that Ben was sliding his fingers under the top of it and pulling it down, so that one of her breasts was freed. He pulled back from the kiss, and stared at her. He looked drunk, dazed.
Lia was vaguely aware that the only things holding her up were the wall and Ben’s hand on her bottom. Because now he was thumbing her nipple and she was biting her lip.
‘Please...’ she begged.
He looked at her, and some hair flopped forward onto his forehead.
She brushed it back, feeling inordinately tender. ‘Touch me...like you did before.’
He smiled, and it was wicked. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue against her straining nipple. He looked back up, all innocence. ‘Like this?’
‘Yes...’ Lia growled, feeling even needier now. ‘Damn you...more.’
His eyes flashed and he lowered his head to her breast and took her nipple deep into his mouth. Lia tensed, to try and hold off falling over the edge, but Ben was remorseless and his hips were making thrusting movements against her... All he’d have to do would be to slide her panties aside and free himself and he’d be inside her, where she needed him so badly.
Shocked at the completely wanton direction of her thoughts, and at how desperate her desire was, Lia’s eyes snapped open.
In the reflection of the mirror behind Ben she saw her long pale legs, wrapped around his slim hips, and his dark head at her breast. She saw her own flushed face, blue eyes glittering fiercely. Her hair was mussed and her mouth was swollen. And they were in a lift.
She tensed even more and gripped Ben’s hair, pulling his head up. ‘We can’t make love here—in a lift.’
Ben looked about ready to refute that statement, but then he seemed to come to his senses and straightened up, removing the delicious friction of his body from Lia’s. She immediately felt bereft.
‘Actually,’ she said, feeling reckless and changing her mind abruptly, ‘I’ve never made love in a lift...the idea is growing on me.’
Ben looked stubborn. ‘No way. You’re right. I’m not going to be the crass American caught in flagrante delicto in one of London’s most exclusive hotels.’
Lia felt a little shard pierce her. He was not crass—at all. Ben unhooked her legs from his hips and helped her stand again. She was wobbly on her feet and only belatedly realised her breast was still exposed when the lift started moving again. Ben efficiently covered her up, his fingers brushing against her sensitive skin.
Just in time, too, because the doors opened and an older couple with severe expressions got in, muttering about how long they’d had to wait for the lift. Lia had to stifle her giggles and Ben took her hand, gripping it tight.
The lift came to a halt again and she followed him out, not having a clue where they were going until he stopped outside a door and unlocked it with a hotel key. The fact that he’d booked a room at the hotel made something bloom in her chest—something she hadn’t allowed room to breathe since she’d taken that flight from Salvador, back to New York and then home.
Hope.
The door shut behind them and Ben had her lifted against it with her legs around his hips before she could take another breath.
‘Now,’ he said throatily, ‘where were we?’
* * *
Dawn was breaking outside when Lia awoke. For a few seconds she lay there, blinking, taking stock of all the pleasurable aches in her body. She was aware that her dress was hanging precariously off the end of the bed, and that there was a trail of destruction along the floor from the doorway to the bed, of her underwear.
She blushed when she thought of the urgency of their lovemaking against the door of the suite...and then th
e much more languid second time...and the third.
She turned her head to see Ben sprawled in unashamedly masculine splendour. Déjà vu made her feel momentarily dizzy and her heart hitched. Instinctively she started to move, but those blue eyes snapped open and before she could take another breath he had her trapped under one powerful thigh, a hand on her breast. Lia’s blood leapt, and her sleepy body was awake and humming in seconds.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
His voice was deliciously rough. Lia could feel her nipple peaking under his palm and he moved it so that he could flick it with his thumb, rousing it to a sharp point. She almost groaned, but forced herself to put her hand over his—which didn’t really help.
All her bravado, and the justifications she’d used in order to acquiesce to Ben’s lovemaking last night, felt flimsy in the cold morning light. Her emotions were too raw all of a sudden.
