head, sucking her finger deeper into his mouth, up to the knuckle. Deliberately, he slid her finger slowly from his lips. “It’s my turn today,” he said.
Her eyes widened in response.
“You had your turn,” he explained.
The last trace of resistance slipped from her, and he enjoyed the sense of anticipation of her body with his. Only once he’d tasted all of her fingers did he bend down to kiss her lips again. She whimpered and thrust herself up toward him, rubbed her breasts against his chest and hooked her calf over his thigh. Her lips, succulent and hot, met his. Mouth open wider, she lashed his tongue with hers.
Beneath her jersey blouse, he found skin softer than her silk underwear. As he rolled one rigid nipple between his fingers, she moaned, and he unhooked her bra, pushed it up so he could hold the weight of her breasts in his palms. The desire to capture her nipples with his mouth, to soothe and torment them until she cried out in pleasure, ached inside him. Rolling the jersey top from her, he pulled the bra away and unable to stop himself, fell to feeding on her flesh as he would on the most delicate dainty the world could offer.
A cry broke from her as he sucked one of her nipples deeply into his mouth. Molding her other breast under his palm, he rubbed the plump mound. The friction would delight her.
“Magnus,” she gasped, as he moved to the other nipple and captured it in his teeth. Tart sweet the taste of her, like a ripe cherry. “Magnus!” broke from her again as he bit gently down. Swiftly he worked at the button on her trousers, and more of her luscious flesh entered his mouth as she pushed her breast forward.
He yanked the expensive business trousers from her. The scent of her arousal was unmistakable and the need for her raced through his blood.
Damn it, she’d think him a savage, but he could scarce stop. He tore the underwear away, and the sweet smell of her made his mouth water. “Yes, you know what I need, you know I need you,” he whispered over her stomach, opening her thighs so he could enjoy all of her.
Soft little whimpers left her, as he parted her folds and tasted her with a sweep of his tongue, and she arched against him. “Not yet,” he whispered, smoothing his palms over her silky thighs. Her clitoris was swollen, tempting. He stroked the heated bead slowly, pushing at it, and a tremble ran through the muscles of the thighs he held spread apart. A low, lengthy moan, and more of her intoxicating scent followed the next flick of his tongue back and forth. Lost to the delight of pleasuring her, he suckled, lapped and licked until she thrashed her head, cried out in incoherent sobbed gasps and pushed her hips up in a plea for more.
The throb he’d tried to ignore ached deeper, his erection swelled harder as she ground herself against his face. The first spasm of her orgasm shook through him and he redoubled his efforts to take her over the edge. Her cry ripped through the pagoda. Moisture flooded from her as she snapped herself up against him. The tension ebbed away in long rhythmic contractions of her internal muscles. He slid his tongue into her to enjoy them and need for her surged. To hold back any longer was impossible.
Delight waited for him to unleash it.
He dragged off his jeans and she pushed her hips upward, showing him where he belonged, tilted them. With the first stroke, he buried his swollen flesh inside her.
“Yes, oh, yes. There!” Her nails raked his ass, encouraging him to go deeper.
She clamped tight around him, gripped him so hard, he couldn’t move for a few seconds. Thighs locked around his waist, she relaxed, and only then could he withdraw and plunge in again.
Her cries of pleasure matched his.
Damn, she was so responsive, beautifully so. As she answered each thrust, the tremors shaking through her told him she was with him all the way. Sweat wet his brow, and though he tried to hold back, he couldn’t control his reaction to her silky fluid pooling hot against his skin and her shriek of delight. Orgasm exploded through him. “Yes, you’re mine,” he groaned against her contorted lips.
Somehow, he managed to hold back the word Julia. He fell forward, pulses of his seed filling her as the rhythmic contractions inside her stroked him.
When finally their bodies both slowed, he lifted up from her, and running his finger over her smooth cheek, enjoyed the last of the movements as they faded. “I really can’t call you Miss Armstrong any longer. What does the S stand for?”
She looked dazed. Wonder filled him, that he’d created those dazzling stars in the depths of her black pupils.
“Sian,” she whispered.
All movement, even his breathing froze. Gooseflesh rippled his skin. “God’s gift, and mine, but you’ve been a long time getting here, my love.”
He slid his arms around her again, and crushed her frailty against him.
Chapter 5
Sian wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten back to the house. She sat at the exquisite polished walnut table in the massive dining room, and rolled her silver spoon slowly around the creme brulee dish.
They’d just finished a salad dressed with figs and cheese, and she remembered eating it, but couldn’t recall its taste. Magnus sat across the corner from her, and she couldn’t seem to stop glancing at him. He focused on her, a gracious host, full of politeness, and still the evidence of their passion dampened her underwear.
A clock chimed four. They’d arrived late back to the house for lunch. She pushed the dessert dish away. “I really must go. I need to get back to town.”
“No, please don’t go, not today. Stay over. If the morning is clear tomorrow, I could take you to the woods.”
She shook her head. There was so much to do in the office.
Hurt blazed in his eyes, and her stomach flipped. Her lips molded to say his name once again, as though she hadn’t cried it aloud enough as their bodies joined.
“Please, Sian, stay.”
The wave of his will crested over her. “No,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt. “And you can stop that, I know what you’re doing. I can’t stay.” The invidious snaking, sneaking weave of his thoughts meshed around her. The strands of his will and desire were almost visible.
“What do you need to go back for?” The sneer in his tone robbed her of any softness she might feel.
“Because that’s where I live, where I work and where I want to be! Franklyn, he expects me to cover when he’s out of town.” Her voice echoed in the huge room. The dining table could have seated twenty with ease. The rest of the room, equally as massive and opulent, overawed her. She had to leave.
“You are meant for me. I knew it the first time I saw you. Please?” He clasped her palm and bent, pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
Her desire to go melted away, but was it really her wish, or his foisted upon her? She steadied herself to search his dark eyes. “Magnus,” she breathed low. “What’s happening between us?”
“You’re mine. Destined to be with me.” He took a sip of wine, placed the glass back on the table.
Unwilling to respond to the intensity of his gaze or
