At The Playboy's Command: Millionaire Playboy, Maverick Heiress. Robyn Grady

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At The Playboy's Command: Millionaire Playboy, Maverick Heiress - Robyn Grady

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ending was burning, glowing white-hot. Wherever he touched, a brushfire followed.

      With his mouth still covering hers, she was about to give up on unbuttoning and tear what remained of his fastened shirt wide open. Before she could, Daniel gripped her shoulders and gently eased her away. Vaguely she was aware of standing before a man she’d known mere hours wearing nothing but French white lace underwear and five-inch pink pumps. She was more concerned about why he’d broken their embrace.

      She swept a fall of hair from her eyes. “Is there a problem?”

      “Just thinking ahead.”

      When he started walking away, an alarm bell rang in her head and all the pent-up breath left her body in a whoosh. She was about to ask where he was going, why he was leaving her, when she realized and relaxed. At the door now, he was slipping the Do Not Disturb sign over the outside knob.

      His shirt three-parts open, his bronzed, hard chest unashamedly on display, he slid the cell from his belt, pressed a button—presumably to switch it off—then tossed the device on the hall table before he sauntered back.

      “I figure we don’t want to be interrupted.”

      She unclasped the bra’s snaps and, dropping her arms, let the cups fall.

      “You figured right.”

      Daniel’s eyes smoldered before he brought her near again. But rather than kiss her, he coaxed her around until they stood, his hard front to her back. The graze of his morning beard against the sweep of her neck sent a bevy of tingles down her entire right side while his palm, slightly rough, rode up over her quivering midriff. She sighed as the ridge of each finger one by one bumped over the sensitive tip of her breast while four hot pads slid down the front of her panties and between her thighs.

      Sucking in a breath, she rolled her neck back and brought one arm up, knotting fingers in his hair as his teeth danced across the sensitive slope that led to her shoulder.

      “I’m so glad I came.”

      His smile tickled. “I thought I was working on that.”

      His thumb and forefinger came together to roll and pinch her nipple while, below, he found the part of her that already wanted to burst into flame. He drew slow, tight circles around that pulsing, smoking spot. Within seconds, her every muscle was braced, preparing for the thunderous run of contractions that crouched, waiting, a thumping heartbeat away. But then his touch moved higher. He angled her head back and his mouth claimed hers once more.

      Dissolving, she let her hands slide up over the hot, smooth curve of his shoulders as he wound out of his shirt then walked her back a few paces until her calves met the seat of the couch. He was dropping kisses along her neck, over her breasts then down her ribs. As that wonderful flame inside of her leaped higher, she lifted her face to the ceiling and, quivering, hoped her knees would hold.

      He slid down farther and the tip of his tongue trailed lower, too. With his help, she held on to his shoulders and stepped out of her panties. When he drew a slow line between her legs and gently parted her folds until that most private part of her was exposed, she couldn’t contain a small cry of longing. His mouth covered her at the same moment he groaned with pleasure. The rumble vibrated through her blood while he flicked and swirled and then oh, so lightly nipped.

      The glow of a million tiny lights quivered and swelled before, too soon, wave after breathless wave of release broke over her. Gripping his hair, she clung on to the thrill until the very last roll and he grudgingly drew away. As she buzzed and floated on the afterglow, through dreamy eyes she looked down and smiled.

      She was still wearing her heels.

      She swallowed her smile when she felt her weight being swept off the ground. With her safely cradled against his chest, Daniel carried her into the master bedroom.

      Before he laid her on the rumbled sheets of the bed he’d slept in the previous night, he traced a line of tender kisses around her brow, her cheek and then murmured at her ear.

      “You’re more beautiful than I even imagined.”

      As she wriggled down into the cool cotton, blissfully content, he removed his shoes, the rest of his clothing and sheathed himself with a condom retrieved from his wallet. A necessity, particularly when she was unprotected. She hadn’t been with a man in too long to remember.

      As he came to her, she closed her eyes and relished the feel of his hard warmth wrapping around her as he gathered her near.

      “No regrets?” he asked in the quiet curtain-drawn room.

      Driving her palm over the powerful plateau of his chest, she assured him, “Not a one.”

      The white of his smile shone in the shadows before his long, strong frame covered hers. Again, Elizabeth gave herself over to the wonder of his kiss as her legs wound around the back of his rock-hard thighs and he moved, at last, entering her. A spike of pure bliss pushed from her belly all the way through to her tingling brain.

      While one large palm scooped beneath to angle her hips up, his other hand curled around her head. As he moved above her, he nuzzled below her ear, growling every so often as if the feel of her surrounding him was so good it almost hurt. She removed herself from everything other than the sensation of physical abandon. When he stopped moving and his every muscle clenched and trembled above her, humming in her throat, she ran her fingertips up and down his slick sides and grazed her lips over the hot slope of his neck.

      He took in a deep breath and, pushing up onto elbows, thrust again, deeper, longer. His hot gaze locked on hers and, his forehead and chest glistening in the dim light, he ground above her. With his steely thighs bearing down, pumped biceps strained on either side of her head. He brought them both higher, feeding a fire that left her giddy and breathless.

      Then his eyes squeezed shut and a rumble set off through his chest at the same time he hit an explosive spot delectably high inside of her. An all-consuming burn ripped through her body, catapulting her heart, curling her toes, at the same instant he reached that point of no return, too. As he drove in, groaned and shuddered, Elizabeth arched up to meet him.

      She’d come here to claim what she could while she could.

      And Daniel Warren had turned out to be far more than she’d bargained for.

      Daniel was still holding on to the last of the I’ve-never-known-such-intensity feeling when, drawing a line down his shoulder and arm, Elizabeth asked, “Think I should take off my shoes now?”

      His eyes snapped open. Thirty minutes ago he’d been ready to pack up and shove off. He’d decided Abigail and the Texas Cattleman’s Club might do better without his input. Rand, as far as he knew, had advised the pilot. And yet here he was, naked in a tangle of sheets. Elizabeth Milton lay beneath him, her hair creating a soft golden frame for her glowing face, and her legs wrapped around behind his, those sexy pumps hanging off her toes.

      “If wearing your heels contributed to that experience,” he said, shifting to slip off one shoe then the other, “we’re on to something.”

      After setting the pair on the floor, he scooped her close. As he searched her eyes, he wound hair behind her ear then leaned forward to tenderly kiss

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