by Donna Grant
He dropped his arm beneath her knees so that she stood before him once more. Every lush curve against him fit to perfection, but he wanted to see that shapely form himself, to feast his eyes on her all-too-tempting body.
Her coffee brown eyes had turned almost golden with her desire. Her pulse was beating as erratically as her breathing. And all of it only aroused him more.
He wanted to kiss her in every way imaginable. To have her so close to him, he all but absorbed her into his body. He wanted to devour her, claim her.
Seize her.
As his. All his.
And only his.
His need burned so hot, he thought he might very well go up in flames. Her lips parted, and it was all the invitation he needed.
He covered her mouth with his, sinking deep in the kiss as he reached behind her and slowly unzipped her dress. The first bared inch of skin was too difficult to resist.
Banan ended the kiss and smoothed his thumb over her exposed shoulder before placing his lips against her skin. He inwardly smiled as her breath hitched.
He repeated the movement on her other shoulder, and then extracted both arms from the dress. It fell to her hips, where it waited for him to finish unzipping it.
But he wanted to take his time and savor every marvelous, astounding moment of her in his arms. He’d think about the emotions raging within him later. For now, the yearning inside him was too much to ignore.
He hooked a thumb beneath the apricot-colored bra strap. His lips trailed up her neck, Jane’s head lulling to the side to give him access.
His balls tightened when she sucked in a gasp as his tongue touched a sensitive spot. Banan reluctantly loosened his hold on her when her hands once more delved beneath his shirt and up his chest.
Her touch was warm and teasing. His eyes slid shut as she continued to caress him, learning him. He was rocked when she lifted his shirt and bent to kiss his chest.
Always he’d been the one to pleasure women. He hadn’t cared if they touched him. He got what he wanted and left.
But he couldn’t stop Jane. Her touch felt too good. The more she touched him, the more he wanted her to. So when she lifted his shirt, he was all too happy to jerk it over his head and discard it.
“My God,” she murmured softly.
He could only watch as her gaze raked over his chest while her hands continued to explore him.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Nay,” he said. “It’s you who is beautiful.”
Her fingers traced over the two dragons intertwined on his chest. The tattoo covered the entire width of his chest, and her reverent touch moved something within him.
She couldn’t know how important the tat was, or why he had it. She had no inkling that he was a Dragon King, nor did she know of his power or immortality.
Yet she touched him as if he were special, as if she understood that the tattoo had a deep meaning.
Her gaze lifted to him. “This is amazing artwork.”
“Aye.” But he found he wanted to tell her how each Dragon King had such a tat, and that each one was special to the King and to the dragons he ruled.
She gave a faint laugh. “I could look at you all day. And that voice of yours. It makes me shiver.”
Her words pleased him to a degree that should have sent off warning bells. But all he could think about was the need to hear her scream his name as she peaked.
He wanted her, craved her—yearned for her on a level he had never thought possible. And had greatly feared.
Yet now, with her in his arms, there was no fear. Just a longing so intense and soul-deep, he had no choice but to follow it. To follow her.
Jane.
Her golden brown gaze lifted to his. “What are you doing here? With me?”
“Is it so odd that I want you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Banan finished unzipping her dress. With the barest tug, it puddled on the floor. “Then let me show you just how much I desire you, Jane Holden.”
He angled his head and ruthlessly, fiercely kissed her. She pressed against him, a low moan filling the room. He was relentless as he deepened the kiss, showing her his yearning, his longing. The insatiable need.
“Banan,” she murmured as her fingers grasped the waist of his jeans.
He recognized—and felt—the desperate need within her. With each garment that was discarded, the passion escalated and drove them harder.
Between kisses and fumbling fingers, they were finally skin to skin. Heat to heat.
Banan was perfectly sculpted, and Jane couldn’t stop touching him. His heavy shoulders, the muscled expanse of his chest, and his ripped stomach.
The sinew didn’t stop there. She felt it shift under her hands as she grasped his neck and back. His legs were just as corded as the rest of him.
His heat surrounded her, just as his arms did. Her breasts ached as they rubbed against his chest. She squeezed her legs together when his gray eyes darkened even more.
One minute they were standing, and the next she was lying on the bed. She loved the weight of him atop her. His arousal pressed against her stomach, causing her to rub against him.
He groaned, and it made her blood burn hotter in her veins. She was about to roll him onto his back so she could explore his magnificent body at her leisure, but he bent and wrapped his lips around a nipple.
Jane cried out as she arched off the bed, her hands sinking into his dark hair. She could only hold on to him as he teased and drew her nipple into a throbbing bud until she was whimpering from the onslaught of pleasure.
And then he moved to her other breast. His expert tongue soon had her head thrashing from side to side, her body shaking with the need for release.
If Jane thought he’d give her that release then, she quickly discovered how wrong she was when his lips left a hot trail of kisses down her body.
He shouldered his way between her legs. Jane was so focused on his mouth and the desire that threatened to overtake her, that she gave a startled cry when his hot tongue gently licked her.
She grasped her comforter in her hands, another cry locked in her throat when he found her clitoris and began to lick, lave, probe.
He kept her thighs wide, introducing her to an even more intimate onslaught. The assault left her senses reeling. Every nerve was stretched tight, her body drifting on the tide of his carnal prowess.
And he was a master. He knew just where to touch, just how to touch to bring her nearly to the point of no return, only to pull back and leave her wanting and aching.
Banan rose above her and let his gaze rake over the exquisite creature beneath him. Her luscious body was naked and racked with passion. Her nipples were tightly beaded, and his hands craved to take her firm, full breasts again. Her thighs were spread to show him the auburn curls and her sex still glistening from her desire and his mouth.
But it was her eyes, full of blatant, palpable longing that made his balls tighten. No longer could he hold back. He had to be inside her.
Her hands gripped his sides, urging him over her, in her. Banan smiled as he set his aching cock against her slick folds, and with one powerful thrust joined them.
Her gasp, and the feel of her nails sinking into his skin, only urged him onward. He withdrew, and plunged in again, sinking even deeper.
Jane whispered his name, her breaths coming in heaving gasps. She was tender, passionate. Warm, sultry.
Yielding, wanton.
He’d never known such urgency, such a driving, burning compulsion for a woman.
Despite every last lucid, sensible qualm.
He pinned her beneath him, a small smile playing about her lips before she released a cry of pleasure. Her glorious curves cushioned him as she wrapped her legs around him. He sank deeper still, enveloped in her wet, clinging heat.
She rocked beneath him, silently pleading for release. A dance as old as time took them. He couldn’t hold back the tide of passion—and didn’t want to.
<
br /> It was sweeter than he’d ever known, more evocative than he’d ever thought possible. And all because of an auburn-haired, coffee-eyed beauty who had somehow sunk into his soul.
Her cries of pleasure filled the room. He thrust harder, deeper, wanting—nay, needing—to see her peak, to watch her face as ecstasy took her.
She suddenly arched, his name falling from her lips. Her strangled cry, combined with the feel of her tight sheath clamping around him, was his defeat.
Banan let the release take him, allowed himself—for the first time ever—to climax simultaneously with another. With every convulsion of her walls, she took him higher, higher than he’d ever been.
To his surprise, her arms wrapped around him, urging him down on top of her. Banan complied, uncertain if he should stay, but knowing he couldn’t leave.
Not now. Not after tasting all Jane was.
He’d think about the consequences later.
CHAPTER
TEN
Jane had never been so content lying in the arms of another man. But then again, Banan wasn’t an ordinary man. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, only that she did.
She’d been drifting in that wonderful realm between sleep and wake while Banan’s fingers caressed up and down her back.
Jane opened her eyes and saw him staring at the ceiling with his other arm behind his head. He looked lost in thought, the space between his brows wrinkled as if he were contemplating something.
“What is it?” she asked.
Instantly his frown was gone, his face carefully blank. A thread of insecurity she couldn’t dispel threatened to ruin the cozy cocoon they had formed after their lovemaking.
And it had been lovemaking. There had been times Jane wanted to think a boyfriend had made love to her, but after just one touch from Banan, she’d known the difference instantly.
“Nothing,” Banan answered.
Jane smiled despite the growing disquiet within her. “You’re a very bad liar.”
His head tilted so that he looked down at her. “What?”
“Are you telling me no one has ever called you a liar before?” she asked with a laugh.
“Nay.”
That one word, combined with the intensity of his stormy gaze, unsettled her. “It was a joke, Banan.”
“Nay, Jane. You knew I didna tell you the truth. How?”
She shrugged and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I don’t know. Look, it doesn’t matter. Okay? Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”
* * *
But Banan couldn’t pretend. Just as he couldn’t ignore the emotions swirling like a cyclone within him. He hadn’t been able to deny or withstand the attraction he had for Jane. Finally having her, claiming her had only intensified everything.
Yet he knew very little about her.
How had she been able to detect his lie? It had been a little one, but that didn’t matter. No one had ever been able to tell when he lied.
Ever.
“Why did you leave Seattle?” he asked.
He felt her stiffen, and knew whatever secret she held would be one he’d be lucky to obtain. Banan, however, loved a good challenge.
“Why does it matter?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Because I’m curious about you. I want to know what makes you, you.”
“There’s nothing more to tell you than what I already have. You know my life growing up in Seattle. You’ve seen how klutzy I am, and I’m afraid that will never change.”
The sigh in her voice, and the resignation he heard, had him rolling over until he was on top of her. “I think there is much more to you than you’ll allow anyone to know. We just shared our bodies in the most intimate of ways. I touched you, kissed you, licked you—”
“I know,” she interrupted, a light blush staining her cheeks. “Believe me, Banan, I know. I experienced every wonderful minute of it.”
He grew hard hearing her low, husky voice. How could such a mortal have that ability over him? If he were in his right mind, he’d get dressed and get the hell away from Jane. And never look back.
The thought of doing that left him sick to his stomach, however. Which only made him more confused.
“Jane. Please,” he urged.
She turned her gaze away from him and took a deep breath. “My mother thinks I’m in London because I want to see Europe.”
“And the truth?”
“I learned I have a half sister.”
She uttered it so softly, it took Banan a moment to realize what she’d said. “How did you find out?”
Jane gave a light touch to his shoulder, and to her surprise, he moved off her. She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. Which was silly, really. He’d seen all of her already.
But what she was about to say still caused her anguish, and she needed all the protection she could get. Even if it was just a sheet.
“Three years ago, my parents decided to sell the home I grew up in and build their dream house. They moved closer to the coast where they’d first met. It was such a sweet story, and one I’d heard for as long as I can remember.”
Jane paused and looked at Banan. He was leaning on one elbow, silently watching her.
“They didn’t want such a big house, so they had to get rid of furniture. I took some pieces because I couldn’t imagine allowing it to go to someone else. One item was a desk my father had kept with him since he was sixteen.”
This was where the story took a turn she still, after three years, couldn’t wrap her head around sometimes. Jane picked at the sheet.
“The desk was so used and scratched, I thought I’d refinish it. I was sanding it down when I found the hidden compartment in the bottom of one of the drawers. There, secured with string, was a stack of letters. I thought they were from my mother.”
“But they were no’,” Banan said.
Jane shook her head. “They were from another woman, a Scotswoman, who had come over to visit relatives. She met my father and they began dating. Dad was seeing her and my mother at the same time. He ended up calling it off with the other woman, and asking Mom to marry him. But the other woman was already pregnant.”
“I’m sorry, Jane.”
His words, spoken so honestly and tenderly, brought tears to her eyes. “It’s all right. I learned through the letters that the woman didn’t hold any type of grudge. She knew my father was in love with my mom. I also learned that, apparently, my mom knew all about it.”
“So why did you lie to them? Why no’ tell them why you came to Britain?”
“Good question,” Jane said with a wry smile. She turned to Banan then and drank in his dark good looks. “They kept this from me. I was at first angry, then hurt. I have a half sister out there, and I want to know her. I spent most of my savings hiring a private investigator who tracked Samantha—Sammi, as she likes to be called—to Oban, Scotland. Her mother died almost five years ago. She owns her own pub.”
Banan’s gray eyes narrowed slightly. “You said you went to Oban.”
“Yes. I went there to talk to her. I’d seen pictures of her, so I knew what she looked like. But when I stood twenty feet from her, I couldn’t do it. I’d been over and over in my mind what I’d say. Then, chickened out.”
Banan reached for her arm and tugged her back against him. “Are you ever going to approach her?”
“It’s my goal. It’s the entire reason I have the damn job at PureGems to support me so I can get to her.”
“Why no’ move to Scotland? You’d have been closer?”
“I didn’t know she was in Scotland until I got here. The last report I had was that she was in London. I already had a job and my flat when the PI found her in Oban.”
Banan rested his chin atop her head. “When are you going to tell your parents?”
“I’m not sure I am. I want to meet Sammi first.”
“Then you plan to return to Seattle?”
His question wasn’t one she could i
mmediately answer. It had been her plan when she first came to London, but she had come to love being in Britain. “I do miss my family, but…”
“But,” he pressed.
“I like it here.”
“Doona go into PureGems tomorrow, Jane.”
It was her turn to rise up on her elbow and look at him. “Why?”
“I’ve a bad feeling about Arnold. No’ to mention the fact he came here, threatened you, and had the other man watching your flat.”
“We don’t know if that was Richard or not.”
“Trust me,” Banan said with confidence. “It was.”
“I need that job.”
Banan was trying to figure out how much he could tell Jane to convince her how dangerous things were. “Do you trust me?”
For long moments she stared into his eyes, and then said, “Yes.”
“Then, I beg of you, doona go back to PureGems. Elena willna be there much longer either. G … her man,” he amended quickly, “never wanted her to return, and he’ll do what he must to keep her safe. I doona know how deep Arnold is in what we’re investigating, but he already suspects you know something. You’re a liability. Do you know what men like him do to liabilities?”
“I’ve seen enough movies and read enough books to know.”
He hated to frighten her, but he would do whatever it took to keep her away from Richard Arnold.
“I’ve got a little saved,” she said more to herself than him. “I can be all right for a few months before things get tight.”
Banan pulled her on top of his chest. “Nay. I doona want you worrying about money. I’ll take care of you.”
And oddly enough, that appealed to him. He wanted to be the one who ensured she was safe, fed, and well loved.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Really?” he asked, and kissed her neck. “Is that so, lass?”
“Hmm,” she said in answer.
Suddenly, she put her hands on his chest and straddled him. The sight of her auburn hair falling around her face as she leaned over him made him grow instantly, achingly hard.
His gaze lowered to her breasts, and to his delight, her nipples pebbled before his eyes.
