LITMIR.BIZ

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I do,’ she said almost shyly—which was crazy when she considered that she hadn’t been in the least shy with him before. But that night and that capitulation had been motivated by passion, pure and sweet and undiluted. While this…

      This was love—more potent than any other emotion in the world. But only for her, she reminded herself. Only for her. Guy wasn’t making any declarations—he was just a man, with a man’s libido.

      And maybe, knowing that, she should have stopped him, but Sabrina knew that no force in the world could have stopped her. Not when she wanted Guy this badly. ‘Yes,’ she said again. ‘Yes.’

      He found the gleam of flesh on her pale shoulder utterly irresistible and trickled a slow finger over its satin curve, watching as she shivered in response.

      ‘Mmm,’ he murmured, as he slipped first one strap down and then the other, so that the material fell in soft folds to her waist. Her tiny breasts were thrusting furiously against the soft lavender lace of her bra, the tips rosy and hard, and he nudged the pad of his thumb against one, seeing her body jerk automatically in response.

      Her eyelids fluttered to a close. ‘Guy!’ She uttered his name in choked response to that first touch, feeling the wet, wild warmth of response.

      ‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’ he murmured, circling his thumb with feather-light torment.

      Good? It felt as if she’d just been catapulted straight into a place where nothing existed but pure sensation. ‘It feels fantastic,’ she moaned.

      ‘No, you feel fantastic.’ His closed his hand possessively over one tiny breast and her nails immediately dug into his neck as she swayed against him, communicating her heated reaction as clearly as if she’d spoken it.

      Guy frowned. She was so damned responsive! He always took his women to bed. Always. And yet suddenly he discovered that he didn’t want to break the spell by moving from where they were and taking their clothes off. He wanted to do it to her right here. And right now. It was as simple and as elemental as that.

      ‘I don’t know if I can make it to the bedroom,’ he groaned.

      ‘Who cares?’ she whispered back.

      ‘You mean you don’t?’

      ‘No.’ She would swing from the chandelier if he wanted her to.

      He pushed her down onto the carpet and joined her there, pulling her into his arms and kissing her while his hand slid beneath her dress and smoothed it all the way up to her thighs. He gazed down at their milky pale curves and felt his resolve slipping away. ‘I don’t know if I can even bear the time to take your clothes off, princess. Or mine.’ He grazed her a light stroking touch where she was most responsive, smiling as her body bucked against his hand.

      Sabrina’s head fell back against the Persian carpet as she felt the first honeyed flutter of his fingers, and her thighs parted for him of their own volition. ‘Then don’t,’ she breathed hoarsely, feeling as wanton right then as she had ever felt. ‘Don’t. Let’s just do it.’

      She found herself fumbling at the button of his trousers, then rasping the zip down with difficulty, her hand straying agitatedly over his hard swell, and she heard him suck in a ragged breath.

      ‘Make that a definite,’ he moaned as he tugged her panties down right over her thighs, skimming them impatiently over her ankles and then tossing them over his shoulder. ‘Now, my little temptress…’

      Hearing the slumberous intent in his voice, Sabrina opened her eyes to see him kick off his trousers, exposing the true, daunting power of his arousal, and she shivered as he came to kneel over her.

      He bent his head and touched his mouth against hers as he positioned himself close to her. Tantalisingly close. ‘Want me?’ he whispered.

      She couldn’t think of a time when she hadn’t. Not if she was being honest with herself. ‘Oh, God, yes,’ she moaned helplessly, as she writhed her hips impatiently beneath his.

      ‘Well, then…’ And he groaned as he entered her with one single, powerful thrust. ‘You’ve got me.’

      This time was different. This time she knew him—or at least as much of him as he was prepared to let her know. For there was always some sense that Guy was holding something of himself back. But who cared? Maybe she would never have all of him—but no person could ever totally possess another, could they?

      But now—physically at least—he was as abandoned as she had only ever dreamed he could be.

      In Venice he had been a skilful lover, but they had been strangers. This time his kisses were deeper, his caresses more tender. With each long, deep stroke, she felt enchained by his possession. It felt different. As if it really mattered.

      No. That was simply an illusion, she forced herself to remember. Just the body’s way of tricking the mind into thinking that this was something more than just a basic human need. She tried to keep a hold on her sanity, even as the first waves of orgasm began to shimmer her down into its sweet, shuddering waters. And only sanity prevented her from crying out how much she loved him.

      Guy watched the arching of her back and the indolent splaying of her limbs, and only when he saw her body begin to judder and bloom did he allow himself to let go, to the most exquisite release.

      Afterwards they lay together on the carpet, dipping in and out of a slumberous doze, their limbs still damp and tangled.

      He heard her yawn and looked to where her tousled red-blonde hair lay ribboned across his chest. ‘You do realise,’ he murmured sleepily, ‘that we’re still half-dressed?’

      She looked down at herself. Then at him.

      Her dress lay rucked up to her waist, while Guy was wearing nothing but a T-shirt. She could see the beautifully pale curves of his buttocks and she felt a warm heat begin to suffuse her. ‘Oh.’

      He rolled on to her and captured her face as his hips crushed hers beneath him. ‘Is that all you can say—“Oh”?’ He saw her squirm and her agitated look and his eyes narrowed. ‘Oh,’ he repeated softly, but he managed to fill the word with a sultry promise. ‘Maybe we had better go to bed.’

      Sabrina swallowed. ‘What, right now?’

      He smiled. ‘Mmm. Right now.’ And he pulled her to her feet, shaking his head as he saw her look around the room for her underwear. ‘Leave that,’ he instructed softly. ‘You won’t be needing any clothes tonight.’ And saw her shivered response.

      He took her by the hand and led her to his bedroom, in a section of the large flat she usually avoided, throwing the door open to reveal an airy room dominated by an enormous bed. Huge windows looked down onto the flower-filled square.

      ‘I don’t think you’ve ever been in here before, have you, princess?’ he murmured. ‘Do you like it?’

      ‘Well, I have seen it,’ admitted Sabrina, and saw the question in his eyes. ‘I sneaked a look when I first moved in. I was…curious.’ More than curious.

      She had wanted to see whether the room could tell her more about the man, but it had thrown up few clues. The paintings were superb, the furniture modern and luxurious—but it was an oddly dispassionate room. As though he was wary about expressing too much of his personality through mere fixtures and fittings. Again, there was that distinctive air of containment.

      Guy should have been riled at what could definitely have been termed as an intrusion, but found himself smiling instead. He thought that few people would have admitted it. But then wasn’t Sabrina’s innate innocence one of her sweetest and most appealing features? Well, that and her stubborn insistence and the way she could make him mad and then make him smile an instant later. Even the way she nagged him about working too hard—which his mother had long given up on.

      ‘Do you mind?’ she asked. ‘That I sneaked a look?’

      He saw the uncertainty

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