but unbelievably turned on...
She liked the way his dark, appreciative eyes roved over her like a physical caress. She liked the way he made her feel. She had never done any kind of striptease for a man before but now she began undressing as he had asked, very slowly, eyes never leaving his as she removed her clothing.
He made her feel safe and she knew why. It was because she loved him. She knew that he could hurt her beyond repair—knew that her love would never be returned and, after tonight, she would be left with only the memory of making love and the knowledge that what she wanted would never happen—but none of that seemed to matter. She’d thought that her heart could never again be made to beat but she’d been wrong. Her love overrode common sense and she couldn’t fight it.
And what was the point of fighting anyway? She lived with enough regret on her shoulders without adding to the tally. If she had this one opportunity to grasp a bit of happiness, then why shouldn’t she take it? She would deal with the aftermath later.
She unhooked her bra, stepped out of her undies and then walked slowly towards him, sashaying provocatively and seeing for herself the effect she was having on him.
Javier held his erection through his boxers, controlling the wayward effects of his surging libido. He breathed deeply and tried to think pleasant, pedestrian thoughts so that he could gather himself sufficiently to do justice to the situation.
No rushing.
‘You look tense,’ Sophie murmured. She was amazed at how at ease she was with her nakedness. Indeed, she was positively basking in it. She delicately stroked the side of his face with one finger and Javier grabbed it and sucked it, watching her with smouldering passion so that every bone in her body seemed to go into meltdown.
‘Tense isn’t quite the word I would use...’ He drew her close to him so that their bodies were lightly pressed together and, eyes still locked to hers, he eased his hand over her hip, along her thigh and then between them.
Her wetness on his finger elicited a moan of pure satisfaction from him.
Sophie couldn’t breathe. Her eyelids fluttered. There was something so erotic about them both standing, looking at one another while he rubbed his finger against the small, tight bud of her clitoris, rousing sensations like little explosions and fireworks inside her. She shifted and moaned softly.
‘This is just the appetiser,’ Javier murmured, kissing her on her mouth, small, darting kisses that left her breathless. ‘And there will be lots of those to enjoy before the main course.’
‘I want to pleasure you too...’
‘You already are. Trust me—just touching you is giving me more pleasure than you could even begin to understand.’
In one fluid movement, he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed as easily as if she weighed nothing. He deposited her as gently as if she were a piece of priceless porcelain and then he stood back and looked at her, and Sophie looked back at him, eyes half-closed, her breathing shallow and jerky. The outline of his impressive erection made her heart skip a beat.
She realised that she had never actually considered the dynamics of sexual intercourse; how something so big would fit into her...
‘Your face is as transparent as a sheet of glass,’ Javier told her drily. ‘There’s no need to be nervous. I am going to be very gentle.’
‘I know you will.’ And she did. He might be ruthless on the battlefield of high finance, but here in the bedroom he was a giver and utterly unselfish. That was something she sensed.
Javier decided that he would leave the boxers on. He didn’t want to scare her. He was a big boy and he had seen that flash of apprehension on her face and interpreted it without any difficulty at all. He’d said he was going to be gentle and he would be; he would ease himself into her and she would accept his largeness without anything but sheer, unadulterated pleasure.
He had forgotten that this single act was supposed to be about revenge.
He positioned her arms above her head and she shifted into the position so that her breasts were pointing at him. Hunkering over her, he delicately circled one rosy nipple with his tongue until she was writhing in response.
‘No moving,’ he chastised sternly. ‘Or else I might have to tie those hands of yours together above your head...’
‘You wouldn’t.’ But now that he had put that thought in her head, she found that she rather enjoyed playing around with it in her mind.
Maybe another time, she thought with heated contentment only to realise that there wouldn’t be another time. This was it. This was all he wanted. A night of fun so that he could get the completion he felt he deserved.
She felt a sharp, searing pain as she pictured him walking away from her, taking his sense of completion with him, returning to the queue of beautiful, experienced women patiently waiting for him.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, blocking out the intrusive, unwelcome image and succumbing to the riot of physical sensations sparked as he trailed kisses along her collarbone, down to her pouting, pink nipple.
He took his time. He drew her aching nipple into his mouth so that he could caress the tip with his tongue in firm, circular movements that had her gasping for breath. Every time she lowered her arm to clutch his hair, he pushed it back up without pausing in his devastating caress.
‘Now let’s try this another way,’ he murmured, rising up and staring down at her flushed, drowsy face.
‘I’m not pleasing you...’ Sophie’s voice was suddenly anxious and her eyes expressed concern that she was taking without giving anything in return.
‘Shh...’ Javier admonished. ‘Like I said, you’re doing more for me than you can ever imagine possible.’ Doing more than any woman had ever done before.
She made him feel young again. He was no longer the boy who had grown into a man whose only focus was forging the financial stability he had grown up wanting. He was no longer the tycoon who had made it to the top, who could have anything and anyone he wanted. He was young again, without the cynicism invested in him by his upwards journey.
‘Straddle me,’ he commanded, flipping her so that their positions were reversed, and she was now the one over him, her full breasts dangling like ripe fruit, swinging tantalisingly close to his face. ‘And move on me...move on my thigh...let me feel your wetness...’
Sophie obeyed. It was wickedly decadent. She moved against his thigh, slowly and firmly, legs parted so that she could feel the nudge of an orgasm slowly building.
She didn’t care that he could see the naked, open-mouthed lust on her face or hear the heavy, laboured breathing which she could no longer get under control.
She didn’t care if he watched her, in her most private moment, come against his leg.
She was so turned on, she could scarcely breathe. She gasped when he held her breasts, massaging their fullness, drawing her down towards him so that he could suckle on first one, then the other, while she continued to pleasure herself against him, hands pinned on either side of him.
As limp as a rag doll, she lay for a while on him, taking time out to quell the rise of an impending orgasm
