Miranda Lee – One Passionate Night: His Bride for One Night / One Night at Parenga / His One-Night Mistress (страница 21)

His brows drew together. ‘Are you saying you haven’t done this before either?’

‘Not on a sofa. And never very well.’

‘Use your knees to lift your bottom up and down, like you’re riding a horse. Have you ever ridden a horse?’

‘Please. I’m country.’

Charlotte could not believe she could sound so calm and casual at such a moment. No doubt she was keen to impress him, if not with her sexual expertise, then her willingness to learn.

Her hands curled over his shoulders, her nails digging in as she started to rise and fall.

What had felt wonderful inside her in repose, now felt incredible. She could not get enough of the sensation of being filled by him, over and over. Those frantic feelings returned, stronger this time and more compelling. She began to move faster.

His raw moan brought her to a fearful halt. She’d hurt him. Oh, she was hopeless.

‘No, don’t stop.’ His voice was hoarse, his face anguished. ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. It feels fantastic. You’re fantastic.’

She happily obeyed, closing her eyes in an effort to concentrate. But it became increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the tension building inside her. Her belly tightened. Her thighs quivered. Her heart stopped. Then suddenly she was there, splintering apart around him, practically sobbing with the intensity of her release.

He cried out at the same time and for the first time Charlotte understood what it meant to be as one. They were fused together, flesh within flesh, both shuddering in ecstasy at the same time. She was still contracting around him when his hands cupped her face and drew her gasping mouth down to his, kissing her till their mutual pleasure died away.

Only then did his lips leave hers.

‘More than fantastic,’ he murmured, his eyes heavily hooded with spent passion.

When he gathered her close to his heart, she sighed a deeply contented sigh, her mind and body already beginning to shut down.

‘Enough for now,’ he said as he smoothed his hand up and down her spine. ‘Go to sleep, sweet Charlotte.’

‘I don’t want to sleep,’ she mumbled.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll wake you up later.’

‘Promise?’

‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

‘Don’t take me to bed,’ she told him, sounding for all the world as if she was drugged.

‘Why not?’ He sounded startled.

‘Not the bed. Not yet. Promise.’

‘Crazy girl. All right. I promise.’

‘Good.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHARLOTTE woke slowly, drifting out of a deep haze of sleep that seemed to want to drag her back and cocoon her forever. She yawned. Stretched. Then, finally, opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was herself in the ceiling mirror. And Daniel next to her. Still fast asleep.

He was sprawled face down, the white satin sheet covering him up to the waist, his arms folded under the pillow on which his head rested.

Charlotte caught herself smiling. She should have felt wrecked. Instead, she felt wonderful.

A glance at her wrist-watch showed that it was twenty past ten. Not all that late considering she’d been awake most of the night.

And what a night!

If she hadn’t been at this moment looking at Daniel’s real-life reflection, she might have thought it was all a dream. Rolling over, Charlotte placed a kiss of gratitude on his nearest shoulder, rubbing her lips lightly back and forth across his skin.

He didn’t stir. Understandable. The man had to be exhausted.

He’d been incredible last night. The kind of lover women fantasised about but rarely ever experienced. He knew exactly what to do to turn her on, and to keep her there. He’d made love to her in ways she hadn’t even read about.

He made a better sheikh than she could’ve ever imagined. Dominating and demanding at times, but wonderfully tender at others. He seemed to know exactly what she needed to obliterate her sexual history. With him, there’d been no sign of the rather timid, fearful lover she’d become over the years. Any tension she felt with Daniel had been strictly sexual. She did so love the way he had mercilessly taken her to the edge, wickedly leaving her there till she begged him for deliverance from her torment.

But it was a delicious torment. She loved it, really.

Charlotte would have liked to stay there in the bed, reliving every delicious moment in her mind, but nature was calling, and so was their lack of time. Of course, Daniel had suggested again at one particularly satisfying moment that he come with her up to the Hunter Valley today. And of course this time she’d said, yes, please.

If she was still worried at the back of her mind that her newly discovered desire might deepen to something else, her worry was not as strong as her need. Having Daniel make love to her some more was worth the risk of some heartbreak afterwards. Worth just about any risk, to be honest. Such was the power of her passion for him, and the pleasure he could deliver.

Charlotte wasn’t sure what time checkout was, but even if it was late checkout at twelve, that didn’t give them all that much time. Besides, she wanted to make herself perfect for Daniel before he woke.

Careful not to disturb him, she climbed out of the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.

Daniel woke to the sound of the shower running. With a groan, he rolled over and checked the time on his watch, which was lying on the black-lacquered bedside table. Ten-thirty.

Checkout wasn’t till twelve. Time enough for a decent breakfast. He was sure Room Service would organise something. This was the bridal suite, after all.

And it was worth every penny, he thought with a satisfied smile as he lifted the phone next to the bed. Charlotte had finally agreed to his coming with her up to the Hunter Valley today, giving him a few more days to convince her that he wanted her for more than a holiday fling. He wondered if she would consider coming back to America and living with him…

‘Housekeeping,’ a woman’s voice answered when he punched in the number six.

‘This is Mr Bannister in the Arabian Nights suite. We’d like to order some breakfast.’

‘Yes, of course, Mr Bannister. What would you like? Lots of newlyweds opt for the champagne breakfast.’

‘I don’t think so.’ They’d had more than enough champagne last night. ‘We need something far more substantial this morning. We’ll have muesli, freshly squeezed orange juice, bacon and eggs, wholemeal toast and brewed coffee.’

‘Yes, Mr Bannister. And when would you like that delivered?’

‘Make it eleven.’ That gave him time to shower and shave.

‘Very good, sir.’

Daniel hung up, got up and glanced around for something to put on, but there was nothing but the clothes he’d worn the day before. His bag was in the dressing room and the only access to that was through the bathroom. Not wanting to burst in on Charlotte again, he strode out to the sitting area, where he knew he’d left a towel during the night.

As he swept it up from where it was spread over the coffee-table, images flashed back into his mind of an abandoned Charlotte spread out across that table whilst he’d made love to her.

Daniel’s chest contracted at the memory of how it had felt, taking her like that. It had been wild. She’d been wild.

For a girl with so little experience, Charlotte had been very quick to embrace the delights of the flesh. If Daniel had any worries this morning, they lay in the fact that sex might be the only thing Charlotte would ever want from him. However, she’d been quite adamant the other day about wanting marriage and children, and having no intention of settling for less.

Which rather left Daniel in a dilemma. Because no way was he marrying any woman, no matter how much he loved her!

Daniel froze, with the towel dangling in front of him.

Love. He loved her.

Well, of course you do, you idiot, came the exasperated voice of long-ignored logic. Why else do you think you’ve been acting the way you have? Pursuing her like some madman. Going through with that pretend wedding. Turning yourself inside out last night to make her feel fulfilled.

No man does all that if he’s not in love!

Daniel slumped down on the nearest sofa, stunned. Somehow, admitting that he loved her changed everything. And forced him to face a fear far greater than his fear of marriage.

What if Charlotte never loved him back? What if, after the next few days were over, she said ‘Goodbye, Daniel. Thanks for all the great sex. Off you go, lover. No, sorry, I don’t want your love and I don’t want you. I want a man capable of true caring and commitment, not some man who has no confidence in himself being a good husband and father’?

Daniel bristled at these imagined insults. Of course he could make a good husband and father. Now that he realised he was capable of love, he was capable of anything!

His sigh carried relief. That felt better. Much better. In fact, once the idea of marrying Charlotte took hold, Daniel liked it a lot. He even liked the idea of having children with her. She’d make a wonderful mother.

One problem still remained, however. Getting Charlotte to fall in love with him. Lusting after him was one thing, love something entirely different. He knew that now.

Daniel might have succumbed to a crisis of confidence if his male ego hadn’t galloped to the rescue.