Rachael Thomas – A Shocking Proposal In Sicily (страница 7)
‘I want you to make love to me.’ Her breath was ragged, her words slipping out, firm and decisive. Elation at her freedom, her power of abandonment to be exactly what she wanted, rose ever higher. She wanted to feel his kisses all over her body. His strong hands caressing her, pleasuring her in ways she could only imagine. For too long she’d locked herself behind a barrier of grief, but she couldn’t do it any more. Not if she had to give up on everything she’d ever dared to hope for and sacrifice her secret dreams of one day finding the kind of love she’d shared with Alif. If love a second time even existed. ‘I want you to make love to me. Tonight.’
‘Tonight?’ The hoarseness of his voice left her in no doubt he was fighting a losing battle as much as she was.
‘Tonight,’ she teased. ‘All night.’
He inhaled deeply, his eyes piercing into hers. Taking her hand, he silently led her through the serene calmness of the hotel bar, some guests casting them curious but knowing glances.
Together they stepped into the lift. The air crackled with tension. Neither moved. Towards each other or away. The only contact was her hand in his. Silence enveloped them as the lift moved swiftly upwards. She didn’t dare look at him. Something wild was about to explode between them and if they even so much as looked at one another it would happen before they reached the privacy of his suite.
She drew in a deep breath, his scent stirring her desire ever higher, and she willed the lift to stop. Willed the doors to open. Beside her, he was rigid, his body motionless with control as he stared straight ahead. She didn’t need to look at him to know it. She sensed it. Sensed the power of his control.
At last the lift doors swished almost silently open, directly into his suite, so vast she was sure it must occupy the entire floor. So, he was immensely wealthy. Not the waiter she’d mistaken him to be.
She smiled at the memory of his reaction to her question as she walked into the suite, past the sprawling pale grey sofa, covered with cushions. Past the vast desk where papers and a closed laptop confirmed he was a businessman. Towards the wall of windows which looked out over London, now twinkling with many lights, competing with the moon.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Here, tonight, she could be a different woman than the one who’d handed over her future to the family duty she’d always secretly hoped to be free of, wishing instead for love and happiness. Here, tonight, none of that mattered.
Awareness prickled over her skin as he came to stand behind her, his hands gently holding her upper arms, subtly caressing them, pulling her slowly closer to him.
She looked at the window, their reflection, just as erotic as it had been in the bar. She watched him lower his head to kiss her neck, anticipating his lips on her skin seconds before it happened. She closed her eyes to the pleasure, her pulse racing wildly.
She sighed softly as his lips trailed over her skin, burning it. Setting her alight. But it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough.
Kaliana angled her head, inviting more, needing more. She leant her head back against him as he drew her closer. Rafe’s fingertips joined the torture his lips were inflicting on her skin. She shuddered with pleasure as the warmth of his fingers traced downwards, inside her blouse. Inside her bra.
She pressed her eyes tightly shut, desire wildly uncoiling deep inside her. Deep in the hidden femininity she’d locked away after losing Alif.
Rafe murmured against her neck, his fingers grazing over her increasingly hard nipples. It was exquisite. She trembled with need as he continued his torture, heated desire burning between her legs. She sighed softly as she turned her head to face him. He moved closer, the torture on her nipple continuing as he slicked his tongue over her lips. He moved slowly back and she licked her lips, tasting champagne and whisky along with something stronger. Desire.
He slid his hand away from her breast, trailing a blaze of heat up her neck. Every part of her was on high alert. Every part of her wanted him. Needed him.
She turned in his arms, clutched at his shirt and pulled, wanting to feel his body, needing to see it. Buttons popped to the floor as she dragged the shirt out from his black trousers, pushing it aside, pressing her lips to his bare chest. Tasting him. Inhaling his powerful masculinity.
She had no idea where the wanton woman she’d become had come from, but he tasted so good. His skin felt delicious on her tongue. He held the tops of her arms tightly as he spoke in another language and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was Italian. Then the carnal heat of desire took over, consuming her as it exploded into life.
‘See what you do to me.’ He spoke English with a harsh whisper. Had she imagined his words in Italian?
‘No,’ she said, spreading her palms on his chest. Pushing them through the silky soft hair that covered his well-defined chest muscles, smiling at the game she was playing once more with him. ‘No, I don’t see. Not at all.’
He laughed, a soft sexy laugh, unwinding the coil of desire inside her even more. ‘Maybe I should remove my clothes?’
She smiled, heat and power rampaging through her, making her bolder and braver than ever. There was no way she could stop now. ‘Maybe you should.’
‘In that case, my sweet, sexy nymph...’ He took his arms from around her, pulling off his shirt and stepping back a pace. He tossed the ruined shirt aside, his eyes never leaving hers, the hungry sparks of passion in them making her breathless. She looked at his chest, his shoulders, his strong arms, her attention lingering on a tattoo on his upper right arm.
The Italian words,
‘I still don’t see,’ she teased him further, determined not to be side-tracked by the bold dark words inked against his beautiful olive skin.
With a wicked smile he slowly, deliberately and very tantalisingly removed the remainder of his clothes. His body toned and perfect. His erection large and proud. ‘Now do you see?’
She should be shocked, embarrassed even. But she wasn’t. How could she be when this was precisely what she wanted? To see him in all his masculine glory. To revel in the power she had over his body—over him.
She didn’t answer his question but began to roughly pull at her blouse, desperate to take off every last barrier between them. To be as free as he was. Liberated from her lifelong prison as Princess of the ancient kingdom of Ardu Safra. Even if it was only for one night.
‘Allow me,
He pulled the zip of the skirt lower until the pale gold fabric slithered down over her hips, watching her as she stepped out of it and towards him. His gaze raked down over her skimpy bra and panties, down her legs to her gold heels. She wanted to be as naked as him. Be his equal.
Without taking her eyes from him she slipped off first one sandal, kicking it aside. Then the other. The thud it made on the floor almost as loud as her pounding heart. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra, acutely aware of his eyes devouring her, waiting. She let the bra fall to the floor.
She lowered her hands to her panties, her gaze still fixed on his, unable to believe the wild desire she saw burning in them.
‘No,’ he said, his hand covering hers. He was so close she could feel the heat coming off him. Feel the need in his body for her.
‘No?’ she questioned.
‘No.’ Rafe looked into Ana’s eyes, the thud of desire so loud in his veins, surely the whole of London must hear it. ‘Not yet.’
She moved closer, reaching up, pressing her lips against his, her breasts brushing his chest. His control snapped and in one swift move he wrapped her in his embrace, claiming her lips in a hungry kiss. Her hungry need matching his. Demand for demand. Passion for passion. Their breathing hard and loud as desire threatened to totally consume them.
He needed to slow things down. Needed to take this night of unexpected pleasure more slowly. It would be the last he ever had because, even though his bride would be one brokered in a boardroom, he would remain faithful. He would never know a night like this again. Never know this carnal need for a woman after he was married.
He pushed those dark thoughts from his mind. They were for tomorrow. This almost naked, sexy vision of desire was tonight.
Her hand slid down his chest as she moved her body slightly away from his. Instinctively he tensed as her touch slid over his abs, then lower. Her palm pressed against him, then her fingers wrapped around him, exploring him.