At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim. Trish Morey

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to you.’

      ‘You’re far, far too trusting.’ Something flickered in his eyes, the suggestion of a frown mingling with the blaze of raw desire.

      If he changed his mind she’d die.

      ‘Stefan—’ Her hands slid down his body and she heard the sharp intake of his breath as she closed her hand around that part of him that was new to her. She felt silk over steel, experimented with the lightest of touches and heard him groan deep in his throat. The sudden switch of power was as intoxicating as the feel of him. The heady, extravagant excitement triggered by the fact that this man, this gorgeous indecently sexy man, wanted her as much as she wanted him was enough to wipe everything from her head except the moment.

      Later she’d think of the future but not now, because right now her dream was finally reality.

      ‘You have to slow down,’ Stefan said in a thickened tone, closing his hand over hers to stop her. ‘You’ve never done this before.’

      ‘But I’m learning fast.’

      ‘Too fast—’ He rolled her under him and brought his mouth down on hers. She felt the erotic slide of his tongue and there was a whoosh of heat through her body that settled itself in her pelvis. The feeling was so maddeningly good that she shifted her hips against him.

      He cursed softly and flattened her to the bed. ‘You’re beautiful.’

      Without giving her a chance to answer, he continued his intimate exploration of her body, the wickedly sensual stroke of his tongue driving her wild. Pleasure arced through her as he toyed lazily with the tip of each breast and she wriggled and arched, trying to ease the growing ache low in her pelvis.

      No one had told her she was beautiful before but he did so now, again and again, in English, in Greek, and with his lips and hands until she was a writhing mass of sensation.

      She hadn’t known it was possible to feel this good about herself.

      ‘Stop moving,’ Stefan groaned. ‘You have no idea how hard you’re making this for me.’

      It was hard for him? For her it was torture, and when she felt him shift his weight and slide his hand over her quivering abdomen she thought she was going to explode.

      ‘Please, now,’ she begged.

      He gave a ragged laugh and trailed his mouth lower. ‘No way. I’m just getting started, koukla mou.’

      ‘But I really want you to—’

      ‘I know you do,’ he growled, sheer overload of desire lending an edge to his voice, ‘but I want it to be good for you. Trust me.’

      She wanted to tell him that it couldn’t possibly be anything but good, but the smooth slide of his hand to the top of her thighs robbed her of the power of speech. His clever fingers lingered for a moment, tormenting her and magnifying the ache until she was no longer aware of anything except her own physical need. He touched her there and she sobbed with pleasure because he knew everything she didn’t and wasn’t afraid to show her.

      She rocked her pelvis against him and instantly he moved his hand.

      ‘Not yet. Stop moving.’

      ‘I can’t.’

      ‘You will. Just lie there. Just—don’t move.’ He locked his hand round her wrists and lifted her arms above her head. ‘Hold on and don’t let go until I give you permission.’

      Her hands touched the cool metal of the pretty iron bedframe and she curved her fingers around it, holding on as he’d ordered, out of her mind with sheer overload of sensation. She wanted it all. The scent of his skin. The feel of his hands, his mouth, his body— ‘Please, Stefan—’

      ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I won’t hurt you.’

      ‘Please—’

      ‘Don’t speak.’ His voice thickened with raw need, Stefan parted her thighs.

      She was surprised she didn’t feel embarrassed because it was full daylight, but she knew nothing she ever did with him would embarrass her—not even this.

      This was his mouth on her, his tongue on her and in her, and she heard someone sobbing and realised that the sound was coming from her throat. He spread her wide, opening her to his gaze and his mouth, and his only concession to her innocence was his patience. With each skilled slide and lick of his clever tongue the warmth grew to heat, and it spread and consumed her until holding onto the bed felt like holding on for her life, because it was the only thing anchoring her. He demanded everything and she gave him what he demanded because she was no longer in control. He was.

      It was almost a relief to feel the first fluttering of her body but he immediately stilled.

      ‘No. Not yet.’ His voice was rough. ‘Relax. Do you hear me? Relax.’

      She was almost crazy with the need and she tried to move her hips against his hand, but he withdrew his fingers from her gently.

      ‘Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come. I want to feel it. Be part of it.’

      Her eyes had closed but now they flickered open and she was treated to a close-up private view of sheer masculine power. Dressed, he was gorgeous, but undressed he was spectacular. Bronzed skin sheathed smooth curves of hard muscle and the dark hair that hazed the centre of his chest trailed down over his flat stomach and disappeared out of view. But she’d already seen and she knew, and she wanted to know more.

      ‘Then do it,’ she begged hoarsely. ‘Do it now. Please. You’re driving me crazy.’

      ‘So impatient.’ A sexy smile hovering on his mouth, Stefan shifted over her and curved her leg behind his back. ‘I’m going to torture you with pleasure,’ he murmured against her mouth, ‘until you’re mindless and begging—’

      ‘I’m begging now.’ Her gaze collided with his and every bone in her body melted under the fire in his eyes. ‘It’s you. You make me—crazy.’

      His thick dark lashes lowered fractionally and he lowered his mouth to hers again, his kiss teasing and seductive. ‘This is just the beginning.’ The subtle stroke of his tongue and his skilled exploration of her mouth left her shaking and Selene kissed him back, her uninhibited response drawing a similar degree of reaction from him.

      She was dimly aware that Stefan had pulled back slightly—that he was reaching for something from the table by the bed.

      A moment later he slid one hand into her hair. Dazed and desperate, Selene’s eyes collided with the fierce passion in his.

      ‘If I hurt you, tell me,’ Stefan said thickly, his other hand sliding under her writhing hips as he lifted her against him.

      She could feel the male power of him but she was so wet, so ready, and she knew he’d done that for her, done everything he could to make her first time good.

      His body felt hard, male and thoroughly unfamiliar. She closed her eyes and held her breath, just waiting, waiting, conscious of his leashed

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