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He brought his body over her, pressing his weight down. “I don’t even know your name,” he murmured throatily, tracing a kiss from her lips, to the valley between her petite breasts.
“I know,” she smiled to cover her heartache. Her lack of self-consciousness was beautiful. He toyed with her breasts, wishing she weren’t being so coy, wanting to know more about her than their current situation demanded.
“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, aware that his self-control was almost at breaking point.
“Yes,” she promised, reaching down and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He made a sound of guttural desperation and then thrust inside of her, too overtaken by desire to be slow or cautious. Carrie bucked against him, hard. She lifted her arms above her head, and moaned as her whole body convulsed with the most intense pleasure she’d ever felt. She began to shake as waves of desire spread through her, sending her body haywire.
“Dios Mio,” he groaned, their bodies moving as one. It was as if, on some level, they understood only one another. As though their creation had been no earthly coincidence. As if, instead, they’d been moulded from the same clay, destined to reform at some point.
Carrie felt exactly the same. She knew he was sexy, and she’d had sex before, but she’d never done this. She’d never felt this.
Their rhythm increased, and together they climbed higher and higher, their panting a desperate sound of need and want. When she spiralled out of control, into a valley of pure pleasure, Gael followed, releasing his body with a powerful shudder.
It took precisely one minute for Carrie to realise what she’d just done … and to begin freaking out. It had seemed so simple before. To seduce Gael and make him regret hurting her. But now? Now that she’d felt his beautiful body stoke hers in such a passionate way, could she throw it back in his face?
He would hate her. He’d never forgive her.
Pain dug deep into her heart.
“Well,” he propped up, so that he could look down at her. “I think I’m going to need to know your name.” He ran a hand through her hair, his smile both sexy and adorable.
Carrie cringed inwardly. She’d let her need for revenge rule her actions and now she’d done something truly stupid. Why had she thought she could play with fire and get away with it?
CHAPTER FOUR
Gael laughed quietly. “I have to apologise for my haste to get you into bed. Something about that fucking sexy striptease by the front door robbed me of my usual manners.” He pulled his boxer shorts on. They hung low on his hips, exposing his perfect chest and powerful thighs.
Carrie forced herself to look away. “I got what I came for,” she promised huskily, forcing a tight smile to her lips. For the first time in years, she felt lost. Confused and guilty, and emotional. She stood, just so that she could turn away from him.
He reached to the ground and lifted her thong. “Yours,” he grinned, holding it out to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the underwear from him and slipping them over her legs. She was pleasantly sore from muscles that hadn’t been properly used in a long time.
“Let me get us some room service. Champagne? Something to eat?”
“Sure,” Carrie agreed, with no intention of staying around to eat or drink anything with Gael. She felt sick to her stomach at what she’d just done.
Gael reached for the receiver beside the bed, and dialled reception.
Carrie took one last look at him, her heart in her chest, before slipping out of the room. She pulled the dress on quickly, then hurriedly pressed the button for the elevator. It appeared almost instantaneously and Carrie had never been more grateful.
She moved into it and tapped the ‘G’ button again and again, willing the doors to close. They did, and finally she could breathe.
She turned, slowly, to regard herself in the mirror at the back of the cubicle. Remarkably, she looked the same as always. Only a betraying flush at her neck told of the heated blood that had just flashed through her body.
She reached for her purse, to replace the lipstick that had been kissed off, and made a squawk of desperation, when she realised she didn’t have it. She must have left it upstairs. In Gael’s penthouse.
“Crap,” she whispered, running her fingers through her hair. “Bloody bugger and crap.”
* *
Gael was smiling uncontrollably. Something about what had just happened felt … amazing. Despite the fact he’d only exchanged ten or so words with the mysterious woman, he didn’t regret what they’d shared.
He replaced the phone, and then stood. She must have gone to another room to freshen up. Or perhaps to put that sexy-as-hell dress back on. All the better, for he’d rather like to rip it off her himself, next time.
“Where are you, precioso?”
His smile widened. The dress was no longer cast on the floor. Excellent. He went to call out for her but realised he had no idea what her name was. Damn it, that was an unforgivable oversight. She deserved better than that. He was no randy teenager, unable to contain himself. Though he’d just acted like it.
