It Started With One Night: The Magnate's Mistress / His Bride for One Night / Master of Her Virtue. Miranda Lee
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Afterwards, she sank down against his chest, her head nestling into the base of his throat. His arms encircled her back and he held her like that for quite a while, both of them silent and content.
But inevitably, the significance of what had just happened came home to him. His gorgeous Tara had finally abandoned her inhibitions.
Suddenly, he wanted her in every way a man and a woman could make love.
Tara sat up straight, her startled eyes searching his.
‘Too soon?’ he said, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bottom.
She shook her head.
He kept on caressing her bottom, and soon her lips fell apart on a sensual sigh of surrender. Max had never felt such love for her. Or such desire.
He was glad that their dinner reservation wasn’t till eight o’clock. He had plans for the hour and a half till then, and none of them had anything to do with going back to bed.
‘THAT gold colour looks fabulous on you,’ Max said as they waited for the lift to take them down to the restaurant. ‘So does the dress. I’m glad you took my suggestion to wear it tonight.’
Tara almost laughed. Suggestion! He hadn’t suggested. He’d insisted.
The dress was a cheong-san, brought home by Max after an earlier trip to Hong Kong. Made in gold satin, it might have looked demure with its knee-length hem and high Chinese collar, except for the fact it was skin-tight, with slits up the sides which exposed a good deal of thigh. It was an extremely sensual garment.
Not that Tara needed help in feeling sensual at that moment. The last couple of hours had left all her senses heightened and her body humming. She’d certainly aroused the beast in Max with her provocative behaviour, along with another couple of Maxes. Max, the insatiable. And Max, the rather ruthless.
She shivered at the memory of the interlude on the billiard table.
Tara had briefly thought of sex as a game before going into Max’s den. She hadn’t realised at the time that Max was far ahead of her in the playing of erotic games, making her now wonder how many other women he’d entertained in the past in such a fashion.
At least, she hoped they’d been in the past.
A long and more objective look at Max—so resplendent tonight in black tie—confirmed what Tara had always subconsciously known. That women would throw themselves at him in droves. She had, hadn’t she?
‘Max,’ she said with sudden worry in her voice and in her eyes.
‘What, my darling?’
When he took her hand and raised it to his lips, she looked deep into his eyes.
‘Have you ever been unfaithful to me?’
‘Never,’ he returned, so swiftly and so strongly that she had to believe him.
And yet…
‘Why do you ask?’ he went on, clearly perturbed by her question.
‘I can see by tonight,’ she said carefully, ‘that I haven’t exactly…satisfied you these past twelve months.’
‘That’s not true, Tara. I’ve been very happy with you,’ he claimed.
A flicker in his eyes, however, showed otherwise.
‘I don’t believe you, Max. Tell me the truth.’
‘Look, I admit there have been moments when I wished you were more comfortable with your body, and your sexuality. But I was not discontented. I love you, Tara, not just making love to you. Still, I’m glad you’ve finally realised that sex can be enjoyed in lots of different ways. It doesn’t always have to be slow and serious. It can be fast and furious. Or it can just be fun. You had fun tonight, didn’t you?’
Fun. Had it been fun? It had certainly been exciting, and compelling.
‘I…I guess so.’
His smile was wry. ‘Come, now, Tara. You loved it. All of it. Don’t deny it.’
‘I guess I’m just not used to being so wicked.’
‘Wicked!’ Max exclaimed, laughing. ‘We weren’t wicked. A little naughty perhaps. But not wicked. I could show you wicked later tonight, if you’d like.’
‘What…what do you mean? Doing what?’
‘I’ve always wanted to put those cords around my bed to far better use than tying back the curtains.’
Tara tried to feel scandalised. Instead, curiosity claimed her. What would it feel like for Max to tie her to the bed, to render her incapable of stopping him from looking at her all over, and touching her all over?
Just thinking about it gave her a hint as to what it would actually feel like. Wicked.
Heat filled her face. And the rest of her.
‘I can see that’s a bit of a leap for you,’ Max said wryly. ‘Forget I mentioned it.’
But how could she forget? He’d put the image into her mind. She would never be able to look at that bed now without thinking of herself bound to the bedposts!
The lift doors opened. When she stood there, still in a daze, Max took her hand and pulled her into the lift.
‘Come along, princess, stop the daydreaming. We have to go down and eat. We’re already a quarter of an hour late, courtesy of your keeping me in the shower longer than I intended.’
‘Me keeping you in the shower!’ she gasped. ‘You liar! It was you. You wouldn’t let me get out till I…till I…’
‘Till you’d finished what you started. Yes, I know. Sorry. You’re right. I got a bit carried away. But I didn’t hear you objecting.’
‘I could hardly speak at the time,’ she countered with a defiant glower.
He laughed. ‘That’s the girl. Give it back to me. That’s what I want from you always, Tara. Lots of fire and spirit. I’m never at my best around yes people.’
‘That’s rubbish, Max, and you know it. You love yes people. I hear you on the phone all the time, giving orders and expecting to be instantly obeyed. You like being the boss, in the bedroom as well as everywhere else! You expect all your lackeys to do exactly what they’re told, when they’re told.’
‘Aah, yes, but you’re not one of my lackeys.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ she snapped. ‘Isn’t a mistress another form of lackey?’
‘Mistress! Good lord, what a delightfully old-fashioned word. But I like it. Mistress,’ he repeated thoughtfully. ‘Yes, you would