One touch and she was lost.
She knew it and he knew it, and there didn’t seem to be a damned thing she could do to stop it.
‘Now kill the lights,’ he growled.
And like a willing puppet she did as he told her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE darkness clothed them like black velvet. Holly stood immobile by the light switch, knowing that it was not too late to change her mind, but then she heard Luke behind her, felt his warm breath on her neck and realised that she had no resistance left.
He slowly turned her round to him, his shape becoming a pale blur before her as her eyes began to gradually accustom themselves to the gloom of the room. He imprisoned her face in the warm cradle of his hand and she held her breath in fearful longing as she waited for him to speak. And when he did, the last of her foolish dreams crumbled like dust around her.
‘You owe me, Holly,’ he told her grimly. ‘You owe me this.’
Her heart jerked with a judder of pain, but at that moment she vowed that he would never know the hurt he had caused her. And all the hurt to come...
‘In lieu of rent?’ she questioned smartly.
His mouth hardened. ‘No.’
‘Or for decorating the shop so nicely, perhaps?’
He laughed, but it was the bitterest laugh she had ever heard. ‘Trying to shock me into leaving, are you? Well, it won’t work, sweetheart. You decided to play this game, Holly—but maybe the stakes were higher than you imagined.’
‘Luke—’
‘No,’ he whispered against her ear, and that deep velvet voice tugged relentlessly at her heartstrings even as she tried to steel herself against his words. ‘You told Caroline what you pretty damned well pleased. You led her to believe we’d slept together and now she’s gone. Well, you can’t play God with people’s lives and expect to get away with it. So now it’s time to pay your dues, Holly, and I’ve come to collect.’
As he spoke he began to caress her, his hand moving expertly down the side of her body, sculpting the curves there as though he were fashioning her from damp clay, and Holly felt a shiver of longing ripple over her skin as despair sharpened her hunger instead of blunting it. She had waited her whole life to feel this kind of response to a man—so why in God’s name did that man have to be Luke Goodwin?
All those books she had read, the paintings she had seen, every statue and film depicting the supposedly mindless passion which accompanied the act of love—hadn’t she sometimes wondered whether it was a conspiracy and it was a figment of everyone’s imagination?
But now she had discovered the power of desire for herself, and Luke was bringing it to life in her. Breathing passion and fire into her blood with his touch, until it blazed from every pore ‘Oh, Luke,’ she sighed brokenly, as his fingers brushed negligently over the swell of her breasts. ‘Oh!’
‘Come over here,’ he said softly, taking her hand and leading her towards the back of the shop.
She couldn’t bear to resist him. At that moment if he told her to walk naked into the street she honestly thought she might give it serious consideration. ‘W-where?’
‘Here.’
Here? Oh, my God, he was taking her into one of the changing rooms, where a bolt of silk dupion lay stacked on one side, like a giant ivory cylinder. The light was dim, but she saw his eyes glitter at the sight of the material, and he tugged at one end of the bolt, rolling it out so that it covered the entire floor of the cubicle in a great creamy, silken carpet. ‘A bed for my beauty,’ he mocked.
Holly’s heart was thundering, her mouth so dry with excitement that she could barely articulate a word, let alone a sentence. ‘We c-could always go upstairs?’
He swept a slow, possessive hand through the unruly tumble of her hair. ‘I know we could,’ he agreed softly. ‘But I don’t want to. Upstairs is yours, but this is no one’s. I want to take you here, on this sumptuous covering in this anonymous room where no one has ever made love before, nor ever shall again. I want to see the apricot tones of your soft skin contrasted against the pale sheen of silk. I want to finish what I should have finished earlier...’
He began to swiftly unbutton her burgundy velvet bodice, and, even as her heart pulsed beneath his touch, she forced herself to close her mind to the matter-of-fact cruelty of his words—and of one word in particular.
Finish.
He wanted to finish what he had started earlier. He made her sound like an itch he needed to scratch.
She would have this one glorious initiation and then it would be over. Logic told her that she was crazy, that if she walked out now he would not force himself on her, nor beg. But her senses overrode all logic. She could not refuse him, nor would refuse him. She had dreamed too long of this moment to deny it now. Her body trembled as he discarded the waistcoat and turned his attention next to her white chiffon shirt.
His face was shadowed but the tension showed in the tight set of his jaw as he surveyed the dark-tipped globes which thrust towards him through the pale, gauzy material. ‘Oh, God, yes,’ he breathed, like a man bewitched. ‘Yes.’
Her breathing was shallow, and rapid as a hunted animal’s, and yet he had scarcely touched her. Her cheeks were burning as she stood before him like a willing victim, not knowing what to do or what to say next.
Luke frowned. This was not how he had imagined it. He wanted fire from her, not fear. He wanted her to fight him, not accept him. This would be a glorious battle before it became a victory. ‘Take your shirt off,’ he told her unsteadily. ‘Do it very, very slowly...’
Holly let out a long, low sigh. So this was what he wanted, was it? This was what would turn him on. And if he wanted her to play the vamp—then vamp she would be.
She lifted her chin proudly, feeling the heavy sway of curls falling down her back, then unhurriedly let one finger slowly circle the button of her shirt, as though the button itself were an erogenous zone. She heard him suck in a breath as she popped it open, and then another, another... until her breasts sprang free and then, to her surprise, he leaned forward to bury his head in them, holding her tightly by the waist for a moment, before letting his tongue and his lips taste each heavy and sensitive mound.
‘Oh!’ gasped Holly, her head falling back helplessly, her hands blindly seeking the thick, gold-tipped hair to balance herself as she swayed, saturated with desire, feeling his tongue wet and warm against her nipple.
‘Is that good?’ he demanded thickly.
It was heaven. She made an indistinct sound of assent as his teeth lightly scraped against the rosy tips which puckered and strained for his lips.
He fell to his knees before her, but she soon realised that it was no gesture of homage, merely a way that he could unbutton her velvet skirt with a speedy accuracy which spoke of lots of practice. It pooled with a whisper to the floor around her ankles, so that she was left wearing nothing but the unbuttoned chiffon shirt, minuscule white panties and a pair of knee-high black leather boots.
‘My God!’ he groaned. ‘Holly!’
Vamps were verbal. ‘What is it?’ she whispered provocatively.
‘This is like every fantasy I’ve ever had, condensed into one!’ he groaned.
Vamps incited too. ‘Just you wait,’ she promised, wildly wondering whether she would be able to follow through.
‘Lie down,’ he urged her. ‘Lie down just like that.’
She knew what to do. She lay on her back on the ivory satin, with her hands pillowed behind her head, her knees bent, and looked straight up into his face. Even through the gloom she could sense the sexual promise in the searing glance which he sent jackknifing through her.
Her heart pounded as she watched him drop his suit jacket to the floor, his hands unsteadily beginning to unbutton his shirt. Oh, God—she needed something to distract her from the moment of truth when Luke Goodwin would stand before her proud and naked.
‘W-what do you want me to do?’ she murmured, through lips which felt bee-stung swollen.
But he didn’t.
‘Play with your breasts, baby,’ he breathed shakily. ‘Touch them, Holly. Pretend they’re my hands. Go on... touch them.’
She had seen a dirty movie once. Someone at college had smuggled it into the film club for a joke, and Holly and three others had left halfway through. But she remembered how the buxom women had performed. The way they’d writhed their hips in exaggerated circles, moaning as they palpated their huge breasts as if they were kneading dough. And that was presumably what turned men on. Even so, she couldn’t look him in the face as she did it.
She closed her eyes and began to run her hands experimentally over herself. It felt strange and wicked and oddly good, though nothing like as good as when his hands had been upon her. She risked raising her eyelashes by a centimetre, and through the shade of her lashes she could see Luke ripping his tie off and hurling it to the floor.
Next she heard the rasp of a zip and saw a grim look of determination on his face as he struggled to free himself—kicking first his trousers off and then his boxer shorts. And then...
Holly swallowed and screwed her eyes tightly shut. The only adult males she had ever seen in the nude before had been in a life class, and they hadn’t been... hadn’t been...
Dear Lord, she thought as she allowed her lashes to flutter up by a fraction, and fear skittered over her skin. If that was masculine arousal, then it was pretty daunting.
‘Are you peeping, Holly?’ he questioned silkily. ‘Don’t peep, sweetheart—open your eyes properly and take a good look at me.’
Running a nervous tongue over parchment lips, she did as he suggested.
‘What’s the matter?’ he whispered. ‘Afraid that this—’ and he touched himself with a total, almost arrogant lack of self-consciousness ‘—will prove too much for you, Holly? Don’t think you can take it?’ He reached out his hand and without warning skimmed his finger down over the centre of her panties, wet with wanting now, the way they had never been before. She shuddered with pleasure as his finger came away moist from the cotton, and as he slowly licked the tip of it he gave a smile of desire and satisfaction.
‘Oh, I think you can take me, Holly. You’re so ripe and ready for me, sweetheart, and I haven’t even started.’
He dropped to the ground over her, his knees to either side of her hips so that she was confronted with the sight of his manhood pushing a hard, tight column against his belly, and she gave a little moan of wonder. Forgetting everything, she raised her hand falteringly, then let it fall, but he captured it with his, raised it to his mouth and kissed it, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘If you want to touch me, sweetheart—then I’m all yours.’
Curiosity made her reach out, her fingertips lightly skating down the broad, silken shaft.
He bore it for no more than a few seconds before his hand came down again, but this time it halted hers with steely insistence. ‘Don’t,’ he said tersely.
‘You don’t like it?’
‘You know damned well I do,’ he ground out painfully, as he sucked in a deep breath of control.
‘Then why stop?’
‘No games, Holly.’ His laugh was hollow. ‘No games—okay? No pretence. This is going to be so good. So good. We both know that. Because you want me, baby—you want me real bad.’
What she had wanted was for him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her now. Oh, she wanted this, too—but a kiss was what she longed for.
And maybe he sensed it, for he lowered his head to hers. But the kiss was not sweet, or tender—it did nothing for her emotions but everything for her senses, making desire accelerate so rapidly that she felt she was spinning in a dark vortex where Luke was the only thing that mattered. He kissed her until she had no breath left in her body and every last trace of resistance had flown. With that kiss he claimed her and made her his.
Eventually he wonderingly raised his head, and carefully brushed a lock of hair from her face. ‘Are you on the pill?’
She shook her head and began to blush, thanking heaven that the darkness meant he wouldn’t be able to see. For heaven’s sake, she had been touching him just about as intimately as a woman could touch a man—so why was the mention of contraception making her suddenly go all coy? Was she hurt that his words had been so prosaic, lacking the tenderness she had been longing to hear?
He took a condom from his pocket and slid it on, then moved back over her again, taking some of his weight on his elbows, and she shivered with anticipation as she felt the hard, warm weight of him. The feel of crisp, hair-roughened skin. Experimentally, she scraped her fingernails over the rock-hard globes of his buttocks, and felt him jerk beneath her touch with pleasure.
Luke looked down at her, revelling in the feel of her softness beneath him. He had longed for this moment since he had first seen her standing in all her colt-like beauty outside the shop, her face framed by the flames of her hair. She had been a fever in his blood ever since, and he wondered if only this would cure him of his obsession.
He trickled a leisurely finger over her peaking nipple, then bent and took the rosy nub into the warm, moist cavern of his mouth.
‘Oh!’ Holly’s eyes shivered to a close as she felt his tongue slicking against her.
She felt his hand on the flat of her belly, circling its palm over the heat which radiated from her skin, and she felt her hips rise up to meet his, demanding more, more—as if instinct was controlling her and she no longer had dominance over her own body. She tried to pull his hand down to where the ache was becoming unbearable, but he wouldn’t let her.
He laughed unsteadily. ‘Yes’ You’re greedy, Holly,’ he whispered against her ear. ‘I knew you would be. Wild, artistic, temperamental—seeking out every new sensation you can, is that it?’
Blindly she nodded her head, not knowing what she was agreeing to, only that if he didn’t do something soon to ease this terrible wanting she would explode.
‘Please, Luke...’ she beseeched him. ‘Oh, please!’
At last! This was where he had wanted her, soft and naked and writhing beneath him, begging him to bring her to fulfilment. That in itself should have been victory enough, and yet Luke was suddenly aware of a void...of this not being enough.
‘Please,’ she pleaded again.
His mouth hardened as he felt her impatience. She wanted satisfaction, and she wanted it quickly. ‘You heartless little bitch,’ he whispered, the sight of her naked against the luxurious folds of creamy silk exciting him to fever-pitch. ‘I’m just a body to you, aren’t I, Holly? A hot, slick machine designed to bring you pleasure.’ But he drew in a deep breath until he had himself under control once more.
‘W-what?’ she stumbled, trying in vain to surface from this enchantment.
‘Nothing.’ He let his hand drift downwards, a featherlight flick to where she was taut and molten, and she gasped. ‘God, you’re responsive,’ he murmured, disbelief growing on his face as he realised how close to the edge she was. He flicked again, then circled, around and around, and felt her arch beneath him, her body stretched with unbearable tightness until the spasms began and he could feel her pulsing beneath his finger, while she clung to him, making little cries of pleasure into his ear.
Her eyes flickered open as the sensations began to fade, and she looked at him in bewilderment. ‘W-what happened?’
‘What happened? You had just about the quickest orgasm on record, sweetheart, that’s what happened.’
She gave him a befuddled gaze. ‘But I...don’t understand.’
His laugh was as cold as his body was hot and longing to thrust into her moist heat. ‘Oh, come on—baby—I think we’re both a little too experi
enced to fall for that one, don’t you? Though it’s a pretty good line to take, I give you that.’
She stared up at him in confusion, as if he were speaking to her in a foreign language. ‘Line? What line?’
‘Do you imply that to all your lovers?’ he whispered ‘That you’ve never had an orgasm before? Does it flatter them? Swell their egos—and maybe something else, besides?’ He gave a throaty laugh. ‘Well, there’s no need to invent things on my account, Holly, and I certainly don’t need any encouragement to incite me. Feel for yourself.’ And he took her hand, guided it to him, folded her fingers around the great throbbing width of him.
‘Luke,’ she said again, only this time it was halfway between a gasp and a sob.
‘I want to savour this,’ he murmured, as he began to position himself above her. ‘Every sweet moment. Every stroke I make and every cry you utter. I’m going to imprint myself on your soul, my angel, give you so much pleasure that you will recoil in disgust if any other man ever tries to touch you.’
But for all his brutal words, he experienced a sense of wonder as he thrust deeply into her, and Holly felt a swift, piercing spasm before her muscles clenched and then exquisitely unclenched to accommodate him.
‘God, you’re so tight,’ he whispered, and kissed her. Tighter than he’d ever known. Or was it simply that he was more excited than he had ever been in his life? He found that he was trembling, that he could hardly bear to stop kissing her. He began to move slowly inside her. ‘I’m going to make you come again,’ he promised. ‘Would you like that?’
Mutely, she nodded, and hooked her hand around his neck, bringing his head down to hers and opening her mouth to his. This time the kiss was sweet, but perhaps it was made all the sweeter by the communion of flesh, those great strokes which filled her, heated her, sent her hurtling towards that place again.
His resolve was steely until he felt her nearing the brink, and only then did he allow himself to relax into it. He had never been harder or fuller or closer, but he kept drawing back and drawing back, until he felt her suck in a great breath, waited until she had started to shudder beneath him, and only then did he let go, his last fleeting thought being that it had never been as good as this before. Never. His grip on her tightened. ‘Love me, Holly,’ he breathed shakily. ‘Oh, love me!’ And his universe dissolved.
One Bridegroom Required! Page 13
