Maxine Sullivan – Mistress & a Million Dollars / Satin & A Scandalous Affair: Mistress & a Million Dollars (страница 8)

“My very own model.” His hands splayed over her hips as he moved closer, letting her feel his arousal.

A moan escaped her but she managed to say, “Supermodel,” and was proud of herself for still having some sort of fight left in her.

He gave a husky chuckle, then lowered his head. He placed his lips against her shoulder and began to nibble at even more pleasure points she never knew she had. When his hands slid around to capture her lace-covered breasts and his fingers lightly squeezed her nipples with the sweetest torment, she moaned with wanting him.

“Too much?” he muttered.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, spreading her across the thick bedspread as if she were a pleasure to be savored. She lay there in the lamplight and stared up at him. His eyes glittered as he took in her half-naked state, her breasts eagerly straining against the lace, the V-shape of her high-cut panties a sensual delight.

His gaze soaked her up, then landed on her face. “Do you realize I’ve never kissed you?” he muttered roughly, his eyes focusing on her mouth.

She inadvertently moistened her lips. “Same here.”

Neither of them smiled. The moment was too intense.

He pulled the T-shirt over his head, his chest bronzed and sprinkled with hair. He kicked off his shoes and slid onto the bed next to her. And then he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was so passionate it made her head spin. This first touch of his firm lips against her softer ones was more than she had ever expected, more than she’d ever wanted from a man—until now.

And then his tongue parted her lips and stole into her mouth, stole the breath from her, demanding she give him everything of herself. When she capitulated, his groan of appreciation sent a thrill through her as she clung to him like there was no tomorrow.

Right now there was no tomorrow. There was only him and her, and the wonderful sensations he was stirring inside her. He undid her bra and eased back, the lace falling away, and she quivered when his fingertips brushed her bare breasts.

“Aah, something else that needs kissing,” he murmured as he lowered his head and took a nipple in his mouth, playing with it with his tongue, then sucking in the sweetest of tortures.

Needing to touch him, to be a partner in this, her hands cupped the back of his head and held him to her. She loved spreading her fingers through the short hair, loved it even better when she slipped her hands down to his sculpted shoulders, then the length of his back to the waistband of his trousers.

He shuddered and muttered low in his throat, “You’re distracting me.” Then he took a deep breath and got to his knees beside her. “Now, what else needs my attention?” he teased, though his eyes were dark with desire as his palm glided down over her stomach, farther down where he dallied and stroked her through her panties, until heat washed over her and made her limbs tremble.

And then his gaze dropped to those trembling limbs, covered by the sheer silk stockings. “I love these things on you,” he rasped, slipping his finger under the band of one stocking, and ever so slowly peeling it down her smooth leg. His lips followed the trail until she breathed his name through parted lips.

He repeated the process with the other leg, and when she breathed his name again, his lips trailed back up to her thighs, up the center of her panties where he paused to inhale her.

He turned his head and looked up at her. “Are you sure?”

Tender warmth entered her heart. He was giving her another chance to back out, another chance to say no to all this. As if she could now.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said on a whisper, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

He rolled off the bed and shed the rest of his clothes, and he was suddenly, magnificently, naked. She stared at his unashamed erection, the hardness of him, the powerful male perfection, and she knew that she had to have him inside her. She put out her hand to reach for him, then stopped.

Instead, she lifted her bottom off the bed, pushing her panties down and off herself. Her eyes connected with his as she held them in the air with one finger before dropping them on the floor like a flag of surrender. It was a surrender she willingly made tonight. There was no tomorrow after all.

Something smoldered in the depths of his eyes, and a pulse leaped along his jaw, making her hold her breath. A moment later, he didn’t say a word as he reached for the condom from the bedside table and sheathed himself, before coming back to her, kissing her deeply, the full length of his body pressing her down against the mattress.

She kissed him back, loving the feel of his hair-roughened chest against her own tender breasts, the heat of his arousal as he melded into her femininity, filling her completely. She felt like she had never made love before. Not like this.

And then he stopped kissing her, and his eyes captured hers with a look that was undeniably male. It was a triumphant look that said he was here, he had conquered and now he would take.

She thrilled to the silent communication, allowing him his moment of masculinity. And then he began to move his body inside her with long, slow strokes that had her own body raising to meet him with a feminine power of her own. Together they built pleasure upon pleasure, until slow was no longer enough, and fast and deep became a necessity, an essential part of their lovemaking. Of them.

And together they came as one.

If any woman in the world had been worth a million dollars, it was the woman next to him, Jarrod reflected the next morning as he lay facing Briana sleeping on the pillow next to him. They’d made love three times throughout the night. Three times and he still hadn’t had enough of her.

She was dazzling, this golden glamour girl with her velvet eyelashes fanning her smooth cheeks, and her blond hair tousled so sexily over her naked shoulders. The sweet scent of her gorgeous body drifted up beneath the sheet and reeled him in, making the blood pulse in his temples, rush through his body.

Suddenly he wanted her a fourth time.

And a fifth.

And he would have her, too.

Just not right now, he thought regretfully as he glanced at the clock and saw the time. Dammit. He had a meeting with a client in an hour. A very important one, or he would cancel it. But the guy was going overseas later today, and needed a Sunday morning appointment.

Sighing with regret, he slid his hand off Briana’s slim hip. It was probably for the best anyway. Despite his body’s urges, he needed a moment to himself. Why, he wasn’t sure, except that having Briana in his arms had been fulfilling in a way he’d never felt before. And that just didn’t make sense. Why did he have to feel this way about a woman beautiful enough and sexy enough to eat?

Yet it was more than a physical sexiness. It was something in her. Something that drew him to her. Drew many men, no doubt, he thought as cynicism gnawed at his gut. How many lovers had seen her like this? Probably too many to count. She may have put on an act about accepting the money, but she’d still accepted his offer.

She was definitely a gold-digger, even if something wasn’t quite right here. His lawyer’s instincts told him there was more to her taking the money than she was letting on. But what?

His dark brows knitted together. Perhaps he just wanted to believe she had a motive that wasn’t attached to the money. More fool him. In his experience, beautiful women couldn’t be trusted. They’d always wanted something, always had an angle. The only exception was his adopted mother, Katherine Hammond. She was lovely inside and out.

But his birth mother, an ice-cold beauty whose looks had started to wear thin, was out for all she could get. She’d given him up for adoption to remain footloose and fancy-free. She’d told him so the first time she’d come looking for a handout. The times he’d seen her since hadn’t changed his mind.

She and Briana would get on well.

Or would they, he wondered, his eyes resting on Briana, her sheer beauty making him doubt himself. But he had to remember she was the sister of his dead sister-in-law. She and Marise were the same breed of women. Out for all they could get. Marise had proved it with his brother. Briana had just proven it with him.

He slipped out of bed and reached for his checkbook, wrote out the million-dollar check and put it on the pillow he’d just vacated. Then he left Sleeping Beauty in the bedroom, closing the door behind him to go into the main suite to make a phone call. Soon he’d head home to shower and change before his meeting.

But as he hung up the phone, he heard a noise in the bedroom. He strode over and opened the door, but she must not have heard him. She was sitting up in bed, having wrapped the sheet around herself. In her hands was the check and she was looking down at it as if she was defeated rather than pleased.

Something twisted inside his gut, reminding him that there was more to this than met the eye. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Briana?”

Her head shot up, her wide-eyed beauty latching on to him. “I thought you’d left,” she accused, heat rushing into her cheeks.