"This conversation is just getting interesting." He lowered his head as if trying to read her face in the darkness. "Tell me why you married me, Emma."
That voice, honey mixed now with rumbling gravel, scraped through her insides. But instead of leaving painful grazes, it stirred something altogether unwanted. Something she needed to banish. If only she knew how!
Suddenly she realised the danger of being this close to him. Of his flesh on hers. "I want to go inside."
"Could it be," he went on as if she hadn't spoken, "because of this?"
He tugged her hand, pulling her against him. Emma's hissed breath was loud as she planted her other palm on his chest to push away.
But before she could, he'd raised her captured hand to his face and pressed his lips to her palm. She felt surprisingly soft lips and the delicious abrasion of his hair-roughened jaw, a reminder of his masculinity, as if she needed it!
Instantly sensation juddered through her.
Shivers reverberated through her and Emma knew she had to fight this. But then Christo moved, bending lower to kiss the sensitive flesh of her wrist, creating a shower of sparks in her blood.
The trouble was Emma had so little experience. There'd been a guy at uni when she was eighteen but that had never progressed beyond a few kisses, because her grandmother had died and suddenly, more than ever, she was needed at home. She had no experience withstanding such powerfully erotic caresses. Or the demands of her own body, finally woken after so long.
Firming her mouth, she pushed that unyielding chest with her free hand. It made no impact.
Or perhaps she didn't push very hard. For now Christo was kissing his way along the bare flesh of her forearm where the wide sleeve of her robe fell back.
His grip wasn't tight. She could yank her hand free. If only she could find the willpower to do it.
But oh, the lush sensations spreading from those tiny yet incredibly intimate kisses.
Her breath sawed and in her ears blood rushed helter skelter.
He'd reached her elbow and she stiffened like a yacht's sail snapping taut in the wind. Taut but trembling too, at the sensations he evoked. Her hand on his chest no longer pushed. Instead it splayed, fingers wide, absorbing the sultry heat of his hard chest and the teasing friction of the smudge of dark hair on his pectorals.
"Stop that now." Because, heaven help her, she couldn't. "I'm not sleeping with you, Christo."
That caught his attention. He looked up and even in the gloom, she caught the brilliance of his eyes as he looked down at her. Then, without uttering a word, he put his mouth to her arm and slowly licked her inner elbow.
Emma's knees all but gave way as a frighteningly potent shot of lust punched her. She made a sound, a soft, keening noise that she wouldn't have thought possible if she hadn't heard it slide from her lips.
She cleared her throat ready to demand he release her when she felt the scrape of teeth nipping the soft flesh in the crease of her elbow. Then almost immediately the strong draw against her skin as he sucked the spot.
Emma bit down hard on her lip to prevent a groan escaping into the night. She'd had no idea something as ordinary as an elbow could be so sensitive. That it could make her feel...
Ready for sex. That's how she felt. With her trembling limbs and that pulsing point down between her thighs that urged her to move closer to Christo. There was an aching hollowness inside and her breasts seemed fuller than before, eager for contact, her nipples impossibly hard.
Her weakness terrified her.
"I said I don't want to go to bed with you." Her voice was too loud and too wobbly.
For answer he released her hand which wavered uselessly in the air then slowly dropped to her side. Instead of moving back he stroked his fingertips over her cheek. All she had to do was pull her head back a couple of centimetres to sever the contact but she couldn't do it. Instead she stood as if mesmerised by the caress of long, hard fingers that worked magic with each touch.
"I don't believe you."Reviews Return