to breathe in case she distracted him as Lucien’s sensitive fingers continued to tease and coax and cajole. Smiling faintly whilst holding her gaze, he murmured something in his own language. She didn’t know what he said, but she could imagine and it made her groan.
‘I think you like that,’ he observed, continuing to abrade the tip of her nipple.
So much, he could have no idea. No one had ever touched her there before, and she doubted anyone could have coaxed so much feeling out of her. And yes, she liked it; she liked it a lot. Added to which, Lucien’s stern voice was strumming her senses and causing the ache between her legs to grow until she could hardly remain still.
‘You do like that,’ he approved as she groaned once more beneath his skilful touches. She wouldn’t know where to begin telling him how much. Her breathing was fast and shallow and her eyes were locked onto his burning gaze. She had no idea how to put her thoughts, her needs into words, though she was desperate to communicate them to him. Her biggest fear was that Lucien would tire of this and let her go. Unsure as she was of their final destination, she wanted to experience everything Lucien could teach her along the way. She was grateful when the flimsy top she’d had so much trouble tugging on proved no barrier to Lucien’s explorations. He drew it over her head quite easily and then stared openly at her naked breasts, making a sound with his tongue against his teeth and shaking his head in disapproval when she tried to cover them.
‘You should wear a bra,’ he said at last.
‘Should I?’ she said anxiously, even as his stern command sent a pulse of arousal darting to her core. Something else she’d got wrong.
‘Of course you should,’ Lucien murmured with amusement, ‘because that way there’d be more layers for me to unwrap, and I enjoy the process…’
She was beginning to understand the game, Tara realised, risking an uncertain laugh as Lucien peeled off her skirt.
‘You must never, never apologise,’ Lucien insisted. ‘Certainly not for your magnificent breasts.’
He weighed them appreciatively in his big hands as he said this and, rolling her head back, she sighed, thrusting them towards him for more of his delicious attention.
She wanted as much of this as Lucien had to give her, but the moment he turned away to reach for something in a drawer she took the opportunity to tug off her shabby knickers. Lingerie was the one thing she had put her foot down over. Freya had wanted her to wear an uncomfortable lacy thong, while she preferred her tried and trusted comfortable knickers. But they were very old now, and she couldn’t bear for Lucien to see them. By the time he turned back to her she had rolled them up in her discarded skirt.
Dipping his head, Lucien buried his face in her cleavage before rasping his stubble against her supersensitised skin, and by the time he tugged on her nipples again she could only cry out with abandonment. ‘Oh, Lucien, I can’t bear this…’
‘Can’t bear what?’ he demanded sternly. ‘This?’ He suckled fiercely on one nipple, teasing the other between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Or this…?’ His voice was firmer still as he slipped a hand between her thighs, teasing the silky curls.
‘Both,’ she cried out in a voice that begged him for more. ‘I can’t choose… I don’t know…’
By this time she was crazy for him and squirmed shamelessly beneath his touch. She had no idea how to ease the frustration mounting inside her, and only knew that she must… ‘No!’ she cried wildly when Lucien stopped touching her.
Lifting his handsome head, he studied the effect he was having on her with slumberous intent. ‘No?’ murmured.
‘No, don’t stop!’ she explained frantically. Burying her fingers in his thick hair, she brought him back to her. Nothing—nothing—must stop this feeling inside her… It was going somewhere wonderful, though she didn’t know where. Lucien had awoken appetites she had never guessed she had, and these appetites were sucking out the common sense from her head and replacing it with hot, hungry need.
He had anticipated her skin was like silk that carried the faint aroma of summer meadows, but he had not expected his fingertips to tingle with awareness like this. He took his time to trace each smooth pale inch of her, marvelling as he did so at the way her breasts filled his palms as if they had been made to fit there. Wherever he touched made her groan with pleasure, and whenever she groaned he found some new place to explore and increase that pleasure. Long before he had been ready to undress her she had started wriggling out of her wretched skirt, and he’d only had to help her to remove it. When he’d turned back to her after securing protection for them both, she had attacked his shirt without any of her former timidity, tugging it out of the waistband of his trousers and pushing it from his shoulders with a gasp of admiration. He wasn’t a vain man, but he had always made time to work out. As she whimpered and reached for him, he realised he had never known a woman so hungry for love before. She was moving and clutching and sighing and even parting her thighs for him before he had thought of preparing her. ‘Not so fast,’ he warned. ‘You’ll enjoy it so much more if you learn to take your time…’
He had intended this to be a lingering seduction, but it seemed to him that Tara’s intentions were very different. Perhaps she had been instructed to snare him fast? Perhaps those were her orders from her sister, Freya? Freya had hinted as much to him with her knowing looks and lascivious smiles in the direction of her younger sister, though if he had sensed Tara was at all unwilling he would have acted quite differently. Reluctantly, he was coming to the conclusion that Tara was part of a sophisticated double act in which she played as crucial a role in padding out the family finances as her sister.
There was an upside to this. It gave him the freedom to enjoy her, and he would make it worth her while. He was disappointed in her, he couldn’t deny it, but the thought of sinking into that moist, plump flesh…the thought of pleasuring her, was irresistible.
But he would not make Guy’s mistake and imagine this was more than it was.
‘Lucien?’
He was instantly distracted by a voice as sweet and as innocent as Freya could have wished for. ‘What is it, ma petite?’ He had to hand it to Freya—she had trained her sister well. ‘Tell me, chérie,’ he encouraged. Tara was still new enough at this for him to want to take care of her.
She pouted prettily, a device no doubt learned from her sister. Tara might lack Freya’s polished skills, but that didn’t stop her throwing everything she had into this pursuit of her wealthy target. ‘You have forgotten me, Lucien,’ she complained.
‘Never,’ he murmured, soothing and petting her. But it wasn’t enough; she wanted more. Of course she did. She had been told she must return to Freya like a hunter with her prize of a wealthy lover in the bag.
Even at the age of eighteen and a virgin, Tara knew the danger signals and had chosen to ignore them. She believed this was her one and only chance to live the fairy tale and have an incredible-looking man like Lucien Maxime make love to her. But, more importantly, she felt safe with him, and she had never felt safe before. In his eyes she could see the reflection of a sophisticated, smooth-running world where everyone was safe. She longed to be part of that world, under Lucien’s protection, and knew she never could be, though for this one night she could pretend…
At the touch of his fingertips on her naked arms she exhaled raggedly. Lucien could communicate so much through touch. He promised so much pleasure, and she wanted to experience that pleasure. She wriggled shamelessly into a position
