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As his carelessly discarded clothes hit the floor, Holly quickly discovered that there was more than enough light for her to make out bronzed skin and bold male arousal. Dizzy from that brief glimpse of raw masculinity, she drew in a sharp breath as he came down on top of her.
Shocked by the sudden contact with his lean, powerful frame, Holly’s pulse rate shot into overdrive and she slid her hands over his shoulders, her back arching as his clever mouth fastened over her nipple, and he plundered her sensitive flesh with sure, skilled flicks of his tongue.
Lightning bursts of sensation exploded through her body, and as his seeking fingers traced a path to that place where the ache had become almost intolerable Holly shifted restlessly against the silk sheets, the wanton movement giving him the access he needed.
With slow, sensitive strokes, he explored the most intimate part of her until Holly was sobbing his name, begging him for more, in the grip of such a terrifying craving that she knew if he stopped now she’d die.
Casper shifted her hips and his own position, giving her just time to register the silken throb of his arousal before he plunged deep into her moist, aching interior, and her world exploded.
Rocketing from earth to ecstasy, Holly shot straight into a shattering climax, only dimly registering Casper’s disbelieving curse and the sudden faltering of his rhythm as his own control was threatened by her body’s violent response. Sobbing his name, Holly dug her fingers into the slick flesh of his shoulders, so out of her mind with excitement that she was incapable of doing anything except hold on as each driving thrust drove her back towards paradise.
Her body splintered into pieces again, and this time she felt him reach his own release, and she hugged him tightly, overwhelmed by what had to be the most incredible experience of her life.
‘You’re a miracle in bed,’ Casper said huskily, rolling onto his back and taking her with him.
Stunned by the whole experience, and prepared to snuggle against his chest, Holly gave a whimper of shock as he closed his hands over her hips and lifted her so that she straddled him.
‘Casper, we can’t!’
But they did.
Again and again, until Holly couldn’t think or move.
Finally she lay there, sated and exhausted, one arm draped over his powerful chest, her cheek against the warmth of his bronzed shoulder.
She could hear the sounds of the sea through one of the open windows and she closed her eyes, feeling a rush of happiness.
She no longer had any doubts that she’d done the right thing.
They’d been married for less than a day and already his attitude to her was softening. Yes, he found it hard to talk about his emotions, but he didn’t have trouble showing them, did he?
He’d been tender, passionate, demanding, skilled, thoughtful.
Just thinking about it made her body burn again, and she slid her fingers through the dark hairs that hazed his chest, fascinated by the contrast between his body and hers.
‘I had no idea it was possible to feel like that.’ She spoke softly and gently, and pressed an affectionate kiss against his warm flesh, hugging him tightly. ‘You’re fantastic—’ She broke off as he withdrew from her and sprang from the bed.
Without uttering a single word in response to her unguarded declaration, he strode through a door and slammed it behind him.
Holly flinched at the finality of that sound, and her head filled with a totally unreasonable panic.
He’d left. He’d just walked out without saying anything. Desperate to stop him leaving, she kicked back the tangle of silken covers and sprinted towards the door.
And then she heard the sounds of a shower running and realised that the door led to a bathroom.
A tidal wave of relief surged over her and she stopped. Her limbs suddenly drained of strength, she plopped back onto the bed.
He hadn’t walked out.
He wasn’t her father.
This was different.
Or was it?
Feeling unsettled, confused and desperately hurt, she lay on her back, staring up at the canopy of the four-poster bed.
Rejection wasn’t new to her, was it?
