The breath rushed out of my lungs, both at the sharp jolt of sensation and at the ferocity in his voice. I wanted to ask him why that was so important to him but he pinched me again and only a choked sound of helpless pleasure escaped me.
He gave a low, satisfied growl, obviously pleased with my response, and did it again. Sparks scattered everywhere, all over my skin, lighting up every nerve ending I had, making me tremble.
‘Do you want to know what it felt like to have you touch me?’ He pinched my nipple harder, and I stiffened as a shock of the most intense pleasure streaked from my breast down to my sex. ‘I’ll give you a hint.’ He slid his hand from my breast down my torso, then further, between my thighs. ‘It felt like...this.’ And he pressed down with his fingertips, unerringly finding my clit through the material of my dress.
It felt so good. Like I’d gone weeks without food and had finally been fed the most delicious meal I’d ever tasted.
‘Leon...’ My voice didn’t sound like mine and I wasn’t sure why I was saying his name. Whether it was to get him to stop or to tell him not to, I had no idea. ‘I... Don’t...’
‘Hush.’ His fingers circled and stroked, then slid further down as he pressed the heel of his hand against me, the look in his eyes burning me alive. ‘It’s just chemicals, little vixen. And they’re making you wet for me, aren’t they? I bet if I touched your pussy right now it would be all slick and hot.’
The raw way Leon said the words, with an undercurrent of rough heat, wound around me and pulled tight.
He was right. I was wet for him and if he pressed any more firmly between my legs he’d soon find out exactly how wet I was.
His hand rocked against me, an exquisite pressure, and I couldn’t stop my hips from moving with him, trying to chase the friction.
Voices drifted from out in the foyer, people either arriving or leaving the restaurant. So close.
‘Ignore them,’ he ordered, soft and dark, as if he could read my mind. ‘Pay attention to me.’
‘But I...’ I faltered as the heel of his hand found a new rhythm, grinding against my clit, a white flash of pleasure nearly stopping my breath.
Pressure was building, relentless and inescapable.
You’re going to lose it.
I said his name again, oddly panicked, as it built and built and built, reaching down with my free hand to pull his away, but he grabbed it and brought it up over my head, pinning both my wrists there with powerful fingers. Then he went back to touching me, stroking me, grinding against my sensitive clit until I was panting and writhing against the wall, helpless against the rising pleasure.
His head dipped further, his mouth brushing over mine. A light, agonisingly gentle kiss.
I was shaking now, the pleasure impossible to resist or contain.
It was going to happen. He was going to make me come, right here, right now.
There were people so close, but they didn’t seem important any more. Because he lifted his head, his golden eyes filling my vision, letting me see the hunger burning in them.
Hunger for me.
‘Come, Vita,’ he said very quietly, pressing his thumb down on my clit. ‘Come now.’
And the pleasure detonated like the sun going nova, bright and blinding, an explosion of heat and flame. Searing me. Burning me to ash.
A cry burst from me but Leon bent and covered my mouth with his, silencing me. Then he stood there, his body both blocking me from sight and holding me up as the aftershocks tore through me. Preventing me from sliding down the wall in a boneless heap.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, trembling against him as I recovered from the effects of the orgasm, the heat and scent of his body comforting for reasons I couldn’t have named.
At last he took his hand away from between my thighs, smoothing down my dress then hooking a rogue lock of hair behind my ear. He stared down at me, the look on his face impenetrable. But gold smouldered in his eyes like a banked fire.
‘Time to go,’ he said roughly. ‘Before I fuck you right here against the wall.’
Heat tore through me and for a moment all I could think about was what it would be like to have him push my dress up and take me with people only just around the corner.
He must have read my mind because he gave me another of those feral smiles. ‘Look at me like that again and I might just do it.’
What if I want you to? my brain whispered silently.
And maybe he heard it because his smile deepened.
‘Later,’ he said. ‘And that’s not a threat. It’s a promise.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Leon
‘WHAT’S WITH ALL the dating bullshit, Leon?’ Ajax’s deep voice on the other end of the phone sounded pissed off. ‘She’s hardly your type.’
I surveyed the view from my seat in one of Sydney’s most exclusive rooftop bars down on The Rocks. Yet another vista of the harbour, my favourite theme.
‘It’s not bullshit,’ I said. ‘And what would you know about my type?’
‘Big tits. Beautiful. Blonde. Am I getting warm?’
An image from a couple of nights ago, of my date with Vita at the restaurant, flickered in my memory. Her, pressed against the wall, cheeks flushed with pleasure, shuddering under my hand. My stern little vixen had thought she could hold out against me, but I’d taken her apart all the same.
‘You’re not warm,’ I told him. ‘And she’s exactly my type. Anyway, what the fuck do you care whether I’m dating or not?’
‘I don’t want you losing focus. We need this expansion to happen.’
‘I realise that.’ I kept my voice neutral. ‘And it will happen. Hamilton’s already organising something as a way to introduce us around. As to the dating, it’s necessary to make this marriage look real. I told you that.’
‘Remind me why the fuck that’s necessary?’
‘Because I don’t want it getting around that the Kings are paying for legitimacy.’ I leaned forward, picking up the tumbler of Scotch that was sitting on the low table in front of me. ‘What the hell is the matter with you? You’re grumpy as fuck.’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Just remember what you’re doing this for.’
The call disconnected abruptly.
I sighed and tossed the phone down on the white couch cushions beside me.
Like I’d ever forget why I was doing this. It was for him. For what he’d done for me after I’d nearly been broken by the kidnap and torture that I’d gone through at fifteen. He’d taught me how to protect myself and for that I owed him.
He’d get the expansion he wanted, plus the redemption of the King name. All of which would be accomplished through Vita.
Anticipation tightened in my gut at the thought of her.
I’d planned this second date meticulously. We’d spend some time at the bar out in public, making sure we were seen enjoying each other’s company. Then we’d go back to my city penthouse, where I’d deal with this insane sexual attraction once and for all.
Christ, at that restaurant I’d wanted to lift her up against the wall and fuck us both into insensibility regardless of who might have been watching. But that would have undermined the way she’d surrendered to me so beautifully.
Instead, I’d taken her back into the restaurant and forced myself to sit through the rest of our meal. I’d barely been able to concentrate on her awkward attempts at conversation, too busy trying to master my raging hard-on. And when I’d finally dropped her back home I’d never been so relieved to see the back of a woman.
Tonight, though, I’d deal with our sexual attraction where and when I chose. And one little scientist feeling her way around my dick and talking about chemicals was not going to get to me. I wouldn’t let her.
I glanced down at my watch. She hadn’t wanted a pick-up tonight, telling me she’d make her own
way to the bar, and I’d let her have that little bit of control and distance. Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to get any of either once she got here.
I was in the middle of looking through some of the gossip websites, noting the reports on the ‘unexpected and scandalous’ love affair between the notorious Leon King and the ‘I Love You Girl’—aka Thomas Hamilton’s forgotten daughter—when I heard a hesitant footstep near my table.
I knew it was her even before I caught her scent. She hadn’t been wearing perfume the last couple of times we’d met, and she wasn’t now, but still I recognised the delicate hint of feminine musk that told me she was near.
Lowering my phone, I looked up.
She stood near the table, holding a little black leather handbag protectively in front of her like a shield. She wasn’t—thank Christ—wearing the black dress tonight, but a green silky-looking one with narrow straps that wrapped deliciously around her narrow body, showing off her slender frame.
I stared openly at the way the fabric cupped her small, round breasts and pulled in at her waist, clinging to the slight roundness of her thighs.
Jesus, the more I saw of her, the gladder I was that she and not her sister had been given to me. Because Clara would never have looked at me the way Vita did. Nervous, wary, yet deep in her dark eyes hunger burned. Hunger that only I could feed.
I rose, slid my phone into my pocket and closed the distance between us before she could move.
Her eyes went wide, her lovely mouth opening, but by then I’d settled my hands on her hips and pulled her towards me.
I didn’t wait, lowering my head and taking her mouth like I had every right to it. Because, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, I did have every right to it.
But I also wanted to let her know that I hadn’t forgotten what had happened between us at the restaurant. And that this particular evening she would be at my mercy.
She stiffened but I didn’t stop. Lifting a hand, I ran my fingers along her delicate jaw before letting my thumb trace the underside of her soft bottom lip, then pressing it down, encouraging her to open for me.
She shuddered, a soft moan escaping. Her lips parted and I swept my tongue into her hot mouth, sliding my hand behind her head, pushing my fingers into the softness of her hair and holding her where I wanted her. Then I began to explore her, kissing her hot and deep and slow.
She’d given me a taste back in the restaurant, but that had been so brief it may as well not have happened.
Not this time. This time I wanted her to know she’d been kissed—and kissed thoroughly. By me.
I tightened my grip in her hair, tugging her head back so I could kiss her more deeply, her body arching into mine. She tasted like heaven, like strawberries on a summer’s day. And her body was melting against me, all those sharp angles softening in surrender.
Little vixen was passionate and sensual, as I’d known she would be. She kept it all locked up inside her but it was there; I’d seen it in that video of hers. I’d seen it again as I’d held her up against the wall in the restaurant too, and now I wanted more.
My cock was getting hard, liking that idea, and I debated whisking her out of the bar and back to my penthouse immediately. But that would be giving in to my impatience, and right now I needed to be in control of it. We also really needed more time to cement our relationship in public.
I lifted my mouth from hers, relishing the flush in her cheeks and the way she leaned into me, as if she wanted more too. Her already dark brown eyes had gone even darker, making the brightness that glowed in the depths of them more apparent. She stared at me then took a sharp breath and stepped back, clutching her handbag, clearly trying to put some distance between us.
I didn’t let her.
Grabbing her hand, I drew her towards the couch then pulled her down onto it with me.
‘Smile, sweetheart,’ I murmured as she stiffened yet again. ‘Remember who you are.’
She blinked rapidly, her lovely mouth curving into a fake-looking smile. ‘You could have warned me before you kissed me,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘It took me by surprise.’
‘We’re engaged, which means you’re not supposed to need a warning.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘You kissed me back, Vita,’ I pointed out.
‘I’m supposed to kiss you back.’ She sounded exasperated. ‘It was just for show.’
If that wasn’t a challenge, I didn’t know what was.
‘That night in the restaurant, when you came up against the wall, was that just for show too?’
She went pink, the colour contrasting beautifully with her green dress. ‘I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that,’ she muttered.
‘Forgotten?’ I lifted a brow. ‘Seriously? Sweetheart, all I’ve been thinking about for two days straight is your hand on my cock. That and making you come again. This time with me inside you.’
Her colour deepened. ‘Why?’
‘Why do you think?’ I let her see the hunger in my stare. ‘You started something back in that restaurant and I want you to finish it.’
The green silk across her breasts pulled tight as she inhaled. The colour was lovely on her, bringing out the creaminess of her skin and contrasting beautifully with the auburn of her hair. Tonight she had it falling in soft waves down her back, all shining and glossy in the light of the bar.
She swallowed and I found my gaze drawn to the movement of her throat. It was pale and graceful. I wanted to put my teeth on it, to mark it.
‘You don’t need me,’ she said, looking away. ‘There are plenty of other women who’d give you what you want.’
I frowned. She’d said something similar at the restaurant, hadn’t she? ‘There are,’ I agreed. ‘But I don’t want them. I want you.’
‘Why?’ Her gaze came back to mine, sharp as a knife. ‘I’m not my sister, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
I didn’t quite understand. Of course she wasn’t her sister; any fool could see that. ‘I don’t think you’re your sister,’ I said. ‘And I don’t care about her anyway.’
‘You wanted to marry her, though. You asked for her.’
Understanding began to filter through. Was she...jealous? It had to be something like that. And it made sense. Clara was beautiful, while Vita was...
Plain?
I’d thought that the first time I’d seen her, but that was before she’d had her hand on my cock; before she’d come so passionately under my hand; before I’d felt the jolt of electricity between us.
No, she wasn’t plain. Different, but not plain in the slightest.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ I said, taking her hand in mine and stroking her warm palm. ‘I’ve decided I’ve got a thing for redheads instead.’
She looked down at where I was holding her hand. She’d remembered to put the diamond on like a good girl and it sparkled under the lights strung on the trellis above our heads.
‘That doesn’t mean I’m ready to sleep with you.’
‘Who said anything about sleeping?’
‘You know what I mean.’
I lifted our linked hands and tugged, pulling her forward against my chest, taking advantage of showing the rest of the bar how in love we were.
Her free hand came out, her palm against my chest, holding herself away. Then she frowned. ‘What’s that?’ She was looking at my throat.
I’d ditched my tie for the evening and the collar of my black business shirt was open, which was normally not an issue. But the way her hand was resting on my chest had pulled the fabric aside, revealing the twisting length of one of my scars.
A jolt of an emotion I couldn’t place hit me.
Women had seen my scars before—they were all over my chest and back—but it had never been a big deal. I kept intrusive questions at bay by making sure they were
too busy screaming my name to ask about them. And the few that did ask... Well, I always had answers to give them. A car accident. Escape from a burning building. A plane crash.
No one had ever pushed for more.
Apparently, Vita hadn’t got the memo.
I wanted to pull the fabric over the scars Thompson had left on my body, wanted to hide them. Strange, when I’d never been ashamed of them before.
Dad had left me to escape Thompson and his men on my own because he wouldn’t pay the ransom they’d demanded, and eventually I’d dragged myself back home.
Those scars, though, were a reminder of what I’d made myself into, and I was proud of them. So why I should want to hide them from Vita was anyone’s guess.
‘It’s a scar,’ I said levelly, treating it as no big deal.
‘I know, but...’ She eased the fabric aside a little more. ‘It’s quite big. Where on earth did you—?’
‘Fell off a mountain bike when I was a kid.’ I pulled her hand away and brought her palm to my mouth, kissing it. ‘You look beautiful, by the way. Did you dress up especially for me? I hope you’re not wearing anything underneath that pretty dress.’
Her gaze flickered from my throat to where I held her hand against my mouth, then she met my gaze. ‘Doesn’t look like a mountain bike scar.’
Curious vixen.
Irritation needled me. I didn’t want to go through the tedious business of telling her the truth, or of fielding all the questions she’d have. I didn’t want to go through my past at all. That wasn’t why we were here.
I opened my mouth and pressed my teeth into the soft flesh of her palm. A sensual warning.
She caught her breath.
‘Do we really need to talk about childhood injuries?’ I nipped her again. ‘I’d much rather take you back to the penthouse and do something much more fun.’
‘But I—’
‘Did you think about what I did to you in the restaurant? Did you dream about it?’ I brushed my mouth over her palm again, feeling the tremble in her arm as I did so. Suddenly I wanted to know that she’d thought about it. That she’d thought about me.
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