For now though…
She moaned deep, almost worshipfully, her breath held as her lips parted in response to the demanding sweep of his tongue. To the tease and delivery that confirmed that yes, whatever she’d experienced before had been a pathetic, pale imitation that wasn’t worth the fleeting thought.
Thiswas a proper kiss.
Thiswas what a real man’s hands felt like moving over her body, applying the right amount of pressure to mould and direct. To caress and pleasure.
His tongue dominated her mouth, boldly stroked hers until her knees gave way. She moaned again as he grappled her closer still, plastering her chest to his, then his fingers speared her hair, a gruff sound tearing from deep within him.
In the next moment he pulled her down onto the thick rug, their bodies barely separating as he stretched out on top of her without breaking the kiss.
He kissed her like a man possessed. One driven to the edge.By her.
That heady, powerful thought had barely lit through her brain long enough to be celebrated before he was jerking away, cursing beneath his breath as he launched himself off her. Returning to his favourite position of staring out the window. Leaving her cold, dazed.
Lost and rejected.
But slowly, thankfully, that self-righteous anger made a welcome appearance. ‘When are you going to admit that this isn’t working?’
He stiffened and even from her position on the floor, she knew his face was set in granite.
‘Or is this some sort of self-flagellation process I’m not privy to?’
His breath hissed out and he spun to face her. ‘Perhaps we both deserve a little penitence for what just happened.’
She swallowed at the bitterly recriminatory tone. ‘I beg to differ. And I’d thank you to leave me out of your self-imposed Greek tragedy.’
His jaw worked for several beats. ‘You know this shouldn’t have happened. It was wrong.’
‘Why? Because you made an agreement that no one bothered to ask if I was on board with?’
‘You were a child,’ he said.
‘I was hardly a toddler, Valenti. My opinion should’ve counted. But even if I’m inclined to let that slide, I’m a woman now. And I’m sorry but I won’t be joining in your martyrdom at the expense of my freedom.’
‘Eres increíble,’ he muttered under his breath.
Her laughter was easy, throaty. If only it didn’t burn so mercilessly on its way out. ‘Am I? Why? Because I don’t shareyour views that I’m anathema to you because of a connection you put in place?’
Fury lit his eyes, no doubt at her gumption. Her inability to kowtow to him as many across the world, clients, acolytes and minions alike, frothed at the mouth to do.
‘Go on then, tell me all the ways you’re a woman,’ he invited silkily.
She couldn’t bear to tell him the most important or the most vulnerable things dear to her heart. The idea born and fuelled in part by her sister’s example of helping those in the greatest need. So she went for shock and awe. And yes, something guaranteed to shatter his illusion of her once and for all.
Still lying on the floor where he left her because somehow rising felt weakening, she examined her fingers unnecessarily for several strung-out moments before she sighed and said, ‘I touched myself when I was in your bed last night.’
A strangled sound rumbled from his throat. The muscles in his arms bunched visibly as he grappled for control. That control strained as he prowled back to crouch next to her, his eyes burning coals drilling holes into her.
Leaning in close until they were sharing the same air, he rasped, ‘The next words out of that delectable mouth better not be that you were thinking of another man while you were in my bed,’ he breathed.
She shuddered at the primitive fury in his voice, the thrill of dancing so close to the edge of his volcano. ‘And what if I did? I’m not a nun and it’s not forbidden.’
He breathed in slowly. ‘You’re playing a very dangerous game, Lotte.’
‘If you want it to end it’s very simple. Leave. You’re very good at doing that anyway. Aren’t you?’
His eyes flicked between hers. Digging. Probing.
