as if he needed to restrain her.
It was an incredible aphrodisiac to know she had any kind of effect on Luc Barbier.
She explored further, down his body, tracing her fingers over abs so tight that her own quivered in response. And then she reached his belt. There was a moment, and then he said gruffly, ‘Keep going.’
So she undid the belt, sliding it through the loops, then his button and the zip. She could feel the potent thrusting bulge under the material and her hand started to shake as she drew the zip down.
Luc muttered something in French and then he was standing up and pushing his trousers down and off, taking his underwear with them. And now he was naked and fully aroused and Nessa couldn’t speak, taking in his virile majesty.
‘Touch me.’
Nessa sat up and reached out, curling her hand tentatively around Luc’s rigid erection. She found it fascinating—the silky skin pulled taut over all that potent strength. There was a bead of moisture at the top, and, acting completely on instinct, she leant over and touched it with her tongue, tasting the tart saltiness. Her mouth watered and she wanted to wrap her whole mouth around him but he was pulling her away saying, ‘Stop...or I won’t last.’
Luc’s brain was so fused with lust and heat and need that it was all he could do not to thrust between the tempting lushness of Nessa’s lips. All rational thought had gone. He couldn’t wait. He needed to feel her whole body around him, not just her mouth.
He moved over her, between her spread legs, and for a second the way she was looking up at him, with some expression he’d never seen on a woman’s face before, almost made him stop, and take a breath. This was too crazy. Too rushed. He needed to get his wits back...
But then he felt her hands on his hips as if guiding him into her and he was lost again, drowning in need.
Nessa was filled with a raw sense of earthy urgency so sharp and intense she found herself reaching for Luc, wanting to bring him closer. He knelt between her legs, spreading them wider with his hands.
Nessa was vaguely aware that her shirt was open, her breasts bared and her skirt ruched around her waist. But any selfconsciousness fled when the head of his erection nudged against where she was so hot and wet. She instinctively circled her hips up to meet him.
Nothing could have prepared her though for that first cataclysmic penetration. She felt impaled. Luc was too big. He looked at her for a moment with a line between his brows and her heart stopped. Did he know? But then he slid in a little further. The discomfort faded as he filled her more, all the way until she couldn’t breathe.
As he started to move in and out he lifted her leg and wrapped it around his hip, making him move even deeper inside her. Nessa was clasping his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as tension wound into a tight ball deep inside her.
She’d never felt anything like the glorious glide of his body in and out of hers. She was utterly consumed with the moment and what this man was doing to her.
She wrapped both legs around him now, digging her heels into his buttocks, wanting, needing more. Sweat made their skin glisten and their breathing was harsh as they both raced to the pinnacle of the climb.
Luc’s movements became faster and Nessa could only cling on for dear life as the oncoming storm hurtled towards her. He arched her up towards him and found a nipple with his hot mouth, sucking it deep, and at that moment Nessa was flung into the eye of the storm and she cried out a release that went on, and on, and on.
Luc went taut above her and she felt the warm rush of his release inside her but at that point her brain was too burnt out to think of anything else but the oblivion that extreme pleasure brought in its wake.
After a long moment, with Luc’s body embedded in hers, Nessa felt as if she were claiming him. Immediately she rejected it as a ridiculous notion. Luc Barbier was not a man who would ever be claimed. That much was obvious.
She unlocked her arms from around his neck. His breath was warm against her neck. He moved then and she winced as tender muscles protested. He didn’t look at her as he pulled away and stood up.
Nessa felt self-conscious and realised how wanton she must look, spreadeagled and with her clothes in total disarray. She started to pull her shirt back over her chest, and her skirt down, feeling cold. She had no idea how to behave in this unorthodox and totally new situation to her—post-sex etiquette. In a stables. On sheets.
Luc was just standing there, half turned away, like a statue. Nessa’s hands stilled and she came up on one elbow. Something caught her attention, a long angry scar that zigzagged down Luc’s back. She remembered feeling it under her hand in the throes of passion. But it hadn’t registered fully.
She sat up. ‘What is that on your back?’
Finally, he looked at her and his face was expressionless. Little alarm bells went off.
‘My scar?’
She nodded, horrified to imagine him suffering such violence.
‘It’s a reminder from a long time ago to not forget who I am or where I came from.’
Nessa didn’t like how it almost sounded like a warning. ‘That sounds serious.’
Luc looked at her. ‘My scar isn’t serious. What is serious is that we didn’t use protection.’
Nessa insides seized with icy panic when she remembered feeling the warm rush of his release. How could she have let that happen?
And then she ordered her sluggish brain to kick into gear and breathed a sigh of relief, tinged with something much more disturbing, like regret. Which was crazy. After her experience losing her mother, Nessa had never relished the prospect of becoming a mother that could die and potentially devastate her family. No matter how cute her little nephew was, or how envious she felt when she saw his special bond with her sister.
She’d taken birth control in college but had stopped soon after leaving, not deeming it necessary when it had never been necessary there. Now she felt supremely naive and foolish.
She forced herself to look at Luc. ‘I’m at a safe place in my cycle.’
Luc made a mirthless, almost bitter sound. ‘I’m supposed to take your word for it?’
Anger surged at herself for being so lax and at his accusatory tone. She stood up, pulling her shirt together and her skirt down, hair wild and loose. She mustered up every atom of dignity she could given the circumstances and said coolly, ‘Well, you’ll have to just take my word for it. There were two of us involved, so why weren’t you thinking of protection?’
* * *
Because for the first time in a long time he’d been a slave to his base desires, and protection had been the last thing on his mind.
The realisation sent shards of jagged panic into Luc’s guts. How could he have forgotten one of his most stringent rules? He, who had vowed never to have children because he had no desire for a family. Family was anathema to him. And to forget that with this woman, of all women? She was the one most likely to turn around now and use this for her own gain. He might as well have just handed her a loaded gun.
Except
