she gasped, startled by the odd mixture of pain and pleasure.
‘You liked that,’ he muttered thickly in her ear.
‘Yes…no…I don’t know.’
‘I liked it,’ he said, and did it again.
She moaned, then squirmed. Yes, she definitely did like it.
‘Do it again,’ she urged breathlessly.
He obliged and her head whirled with the dizziest pleasure. Now he was fully erect again, and began thrusting harder than the first time. Heat enveloped her, her forehead breaking into a sweat.
‘Yes,’ she bit out, everything inside her twisting into exquisitely expectant spirals. ‘Yes. Yes,’ she cried out as her body broke into little pieces, splintering apart with a violent release.
With a raw groan Nick rolled her over onto her stomach, cupping her breasts and lifting her up onto her hands and knees. Sarah thought she was done, but she was wrong. When he reached down and rubbed her clitoris, another orgasm ripped through her. This time he came too, hot and strong. At last she fell, face-down, onto the bed, his body collapsing on top of hers.
For a couple of minutes they just lay, glued together by sweat, their breathing ragged.
‘See?’ he said at last, his voice low and thick. ‘A woman can come lots of times in a row. I could keep you coming all day, if you want me to.’
Sarah went weak with the thought of his doing such a thing.
‘I…I think what I need right at this moment,’ she said shakily, ‘is a shower.’
‘Mmm. What a good idea. I’ll join you.’
NICK lay stretched out next to Sarah’s sleeping form, his hands linked behind his head, his body temporarily sated but his mind not even remotely at peace.
It wasn’t working, his plan to burn out his lust for Sarah. It seemed the more he had her, the more he wanted her.
Thirty-six hours had passed since their arrival, with their hardly leaving the master suite, except for food and the occasional dip in the pool.
Nick’s flesh began to stir once more as he recalled their erotic encounter by the pool last night, not to mention the wildly passionate one in the kitchen this morning.
Sarah had confessed afterwards she’d never had sex whilst sitting on a granite bench-top before. Or sitting anywhere, for that matter.
It seemed her sex life so far had been limited and unimaginative, a fact that Nick found surprising, yet primally satisfying. He was beginning to understand why some men married virgins. There had to be something intensely pleasing about being a female’s first lover.
At the same time, Sarah’s lack of sexual experience troubled him. Young, naïve girls like her fell in love so very easily.
Though she’d never said she loved him, he’d seen adoration in her lovely but very readable eyes. Seen it, and wallowed in it.
Was that the reason behind his growing addiction for her? Not the sex so much but the way Sarah made him feel whilst he was making love to her?
How would it be to always have her in his bed? he began to wonder. To put his ring on her finger? To legally bind her to him?
Crazy thoughts, Nick. Crazy.
Shaking his head, he rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow to stare down at her, his eyes roving hotly over her lusciously naked body. Before he knew it he was touching her again, waking her, wanting her. He groaned when she opened her arms to him on a sigh of sweet surrender.
Say no, damn you, his mind screamed as he plunged into her.
But she didn’t.
Sarah crept from the bed, lest she wake Nick. Night had fallen and he was sleeping soundly at long last.
Pulling on her lavender satin robe—her only item of clothing as yet unpacked—she made her way quietly out to the kitchen, where she began to search the large freezer for something substantial to eat. During the past two days they’d only eaten enough to survive—mostly toast and coffee—and Sarah was suddenly feeling ravenous.
Half an hour and two microwaveable meals later, Sarah carried a second mug of coffee into the living room and curled herself up in a corner of the blue sofa. She sighed as she sipped, only then allowing herself to think about what they’d been doing since they’d arrived on Happy Island.
So much for her saying this holiday was not going to be just a sex-fest!
Truly, she should put her foot down and demand that they leave the house occasionally. It wasn’t right to just loll around, having sex all the time.
Sarah pulled a face. Maybe it wasn’t right, but it felt good. She felt good. Better than she’d ever felt.
But enough was enough, she decided. Come tomorrow, she would insist on their getting dressed and going out somewhere.
Hopefully Nick would not make a fuss, or start seducing her again. Her head whirled at how good he was at doing that. And how successful. She just couldn’t seem to say no to him.
But she would, come tomorrow morning.
Easier said than done, Sarah thought ruefully. He only had to roll over and start touching her, and she was a goner.
Maybe she should spend the rest of the night out here on this sofa; it was big enough to sleep on.
Whatever, she didn’t need sleep for a while. After her eating binge, she was wide awake. Watching television was not an option, however. The noise might wake Nick. Maybe she would read for a while. There were a few paperbacks on the shelves that flanked the large built-in entertainment unit.
Sarah put down her coffee and made her way across the tiled floor. There was only one title that appealed, called Dressed to Kill, the back blurb promising a page-turning thriller with twists and turns and a spine-tingling climax.
Sarah’s spine certainly tingled when she opened it and saw the handwritten name on top of the first page.
Chloe Cameron.
Her mouth went dry as she stared down at that hated name, her head filling with a hundred horrible thoughts, the main one being that Nick had lied to her. Chloe had been to Happy Island with him—how else would this book be here? Nick was not a reader.
Various repulsive images popped into Sarah’s mind. Of Nick having sex with Chloe by the pool and on the kitchen counter. Of his doing all the things with Chloe that he’d done with her.
The hurt was overwhelming. So was the humiliation. What a fool she’d been to be so easily tricked! A besotted fool!
But no more.
Gripping
