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His fingers were delving inside her bra now, one spray-tanned breast standing erect and quivering with freedom. At last, he retrieved the key and, holding it up, she caught the glint of triumph in his eyes as she stood before him drenched in desire and trepidation. Since she’d first laid eyes on him, Annie had wanted him. He was out of her league, she would never have knowingly pursued him, but she must have been flirting, sending out tiny subliminal messages that clearly he’d registered. Like teasing a panther in the zoo, waving and poking out her tongue with the assurance of a locked door—but now he was out of the cage, now this sleek beautiful, untamed animal was pressing her to the wall and ready to play...
Trembling fingers took the key from him and somehow pushed it into the lock and turned it, registering that she was terrified of the beast she’d unleashed but excited nonetheless.
‘I’m not...’ She attempted to be straight with him, her wide eyes taking in the vast bed, her body a quivering bundle of nerves and desire, positive, positive she wasn’t up to the challenge but frantic to attempt it. ‘Iosef, I’m not...’
‘Not what?’
He was kissing her again, pushing her already unzipped dress up over her bottom till she stood only in Jackie’s outrageous choice of underwear and a great wad of mocha silk around her waist. His hands ran over her suspenders and dug into her bottom and she closed her eyes in horror at the thought of the firm, toned bottoms he was surely more used to encountering. The nubile, sophisticated, experienced lovers he was surely used to, the women who would know how to excite him. Woefully sure she didn’t fit the bill, that for him disappointment could only ensue, panic fizzed inside her. ‘I’m not very good at making love!’ There, she’d said it. Her admission had been delivered in a shrill voice, her apology for teasing him, for playing with fire all there in that rapid, short sentence. Only he didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, he was kissing her with more force. His hands had left her bottom and were by his sides, only their lips in contact, but with so much force that if she didn’t want to topple over then she had no choice but to move backwards. Any further attempt to speak was silenced by his mouth, then the back of the bed was pressing into her thighs. She had nowhere to go except the bed, but he didn’t let her fall, instead cupping her bottom again as he pressed her heat to his, his fierce erection a taste of what was to come as he brushed away her excuses.
‘Ido the making!’
And, boy, did he!
Sixteen and a half years ago her sister had done her homework for her.
And sixteen years ago she’d had to sit through speech day—had had to accept an award for work she hadn’t done, had wanted to stand up in front of a terrifying crowd and admit she really didn’t deserve it, hadn’t done a single thing to merit it, actually.
The random memory popped into her mind as this gorgeous man pushed her down on the bed. She was tempted to stand up and declare that she really wasn’tthatgood, that she really didn’t merit such attention as his mouth worked his way up her thighs, kissing and nibbling her soft flesh through silk stockings, that she really wasn’t that deserving...
‘You taste fantastic...’ Even though she had her knickers on it didn’t stop him. He pulled them to one side, his tongue doing wicked things, dotting the i in the most decadent of ways, pushing, tearing, discarding fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of mocha silk dress and then dispensing with her knickers and bra. He was so into her, so consuming, so blatant with his adoration, so feverishly good it was impossible not to feel amazing.
It was impossible not to feel the most wanton sexual being, when the most wanton, sexual being of them all thought that you were. ‘Oh, Annie... ’ Over and over he said it as he tasted her, over and over he said it as his mouth worked its way upwards, kissing her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her lips as she writhed beneath him. ‘I have wanted you so much...’
Wow!
It was her last coherent thought as he sucked on her shoulder, her last grasp at reality as he skilfully sheathed his delicious thick length, then plunged inside her, and for Annie it should have been over, tightening muscles dragging him in, her mind whirring as she screamed his name. But Iosef was as good as his word, Iosef still doing the making, kissing her, teasing her, as he bucked deep inside, taking her to the heights then starting the ride all over again.
Chapter 7
‘Levander’sthe one who just got married?’
They were lying in the rumpled bed—dawn still a little way off—warm and relaxed and thoroughly exhausted. Never had Annie felt more wonderful, lying unabashed and utterly adored in his arms, giggling as they spoke in intimate whispers.
‘He lives in the UK now—Aleksi is back here in Australia.’
‘Your twin?’ Annie checked. ‘Does he look like you?’
‘Of course.’ Iosef smiled. ‘I told you—we’re identical. Though our personalities are different.’
‘In what way?’
‘He can be a bit arrogant, moody...’ His lips curved into a smile as she raised her eyebrows. ‘I am nothing like that!’ Iosef said indignantly. ‘Aleksi is very driven, focused...’ Giving in as her brows rose higher, he gave a low laugh. ‘Maybe we are similar after all.’
‘Gee!’ Annie blew her fringe skywards as she considered the impossible. ‘Do you think I’d be able to tell the....’ Her voice trailed off as she decided that her question was rather unsuitable, but Iosef just laughed.
He was toying with her nipple. Tender and raw from earlier attention, he was drawing it out to an indecent length.
‘To you he would look different...’ Staring up at her from between her breasts, he registered her frown. ‘If you had a twin, it would be the same for me.’
‘How?’ It should have been an easy question, but it gasped out of her lips as his fingers crept to the warmth between her legs, incessant fingers back on her swollen flesh which was sore and tender from his attention. ‘Have I hurt you?’
‘No.’
Yes.
Her mind wrestled for an answer. The tenderness was a small price to pay for the sensations she had experienced, so she diverted him with a question of her own. ‘How would you know it wasn’t me?’
‘Because I’ve tasted you, smelt you, felt you in ways only you and I know...’ He was rolling onto his back now, leaving her needy, twitching with the desire he so easily evoked. The sheet slipped down to reveal his morning glory and if she was tender, still she was wanting, any soreness fading in the wake of her growing desire.
