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Authors: Sara Craven

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Mistress at a Price
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Liam made a small harsh sound in his throat. He untied the belt of his robe and shrugged it away, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the waiting bed.

He lay beside her, his lips on her mouth, her throat, as he caressed her breasts with gentle, awed fingertips. She arched towards him, yielding and sinuous, her hands beginning an exploration of their own, stroking his muscular shoulders, then moving slowly down his spine to the flat male buttocks.

He had, she thought, a wonderful body

lean, tanned and smooth-skinned, apart from a shadowing of body hair on his chest. Cat buried her face in his shoulder, absorbing the scent of his skin, marvelling how familiar and precious his nakedness seemed.

Only a few hours ago they

d been strangers, she thought wonderingly. Now, in this moonlit bed, they were becoming lovers, intimate and enthralled.

He muttered hoarsely,

Hold me,

and she obeyed, her fingers encircling the taut velvet hardness of him, paying delicate tribute to his potent masculine strength.

Sighing with pleasure, Liam lowered his mouth to her breasts, his tongue adoring the engorged nipples until she moaned aloud with the pain and glory of it, aching for his possession, and felt him smile against her skin as he whispered,

Wait, my love.

He moved slightly, turning away from her, and she murmured his name in disappointment and appeal, only to realise he was simply taking care of her by using protection.

He came back to her, framing her face with his hands, kissing her deeply and sensually. Then his fingers were parting her thighs, exploring the sweet, scalding heat of her, his touch light, but almost agonisingly precise. Now gossamer, now fire.

And at the moment when the sheer agony of her need was threatening to overwhelm her Liam slid his hands under her hips, raising her slightly to receive him in one powerful thrust.

She responded instantly, fiercely, her hands gripping his shoulders, her legs lifting to enfold him and draw him even closer.

He moved rhythmically and without hurry, sinking his body deeply into hers. Taking her with him quite inexorably, it seemed, to some distant place. Somewhere she had glimpsed so many times, but arrived at so rarely.

This time, she told herself. This time…

She heard his breathing change, the pace of his movements quicken, and knew that, for him, the moment was there. But that once again it had passed, leaving her behind. So when his body shuddered its way into the ultimate rapture, and he flung back his head, calling her name, she cried out too, her panting voice rapturous.

She pulled him down to her, clasping him as he groaned out his release, her mouth seeking his with unassuaged hunger. When it was over for him he lay very still, eyes closed, his body slick with sweat.

At first she thought he was going to sleep, and that was something she was also accustomed to. But to her surprise he moved, lifting himself away from her. Clearly he did not plan to sleep in her arms, and the realisation gave her an odd pang.

For a few long moments there was only silence, and Cat lay motionless, not wanting to disturb him.

Then she felt him stir, and the next moment his hand reached out, gently but firmly taking her chin and turning her to face him. He was lying, propped up on one elbow, apparently replete and relaxed. He was smiling faintly, but his eyes were narrowed slightly as he regarded her.


So,

he said quietly,

how was it for you?


Wonderful,

she said, and smiled back into his eyes.

Surely you don

t need to ask?

He said slowly,

If it was that great, why didn

t you come?

She swallowed.

But I did…


No,

he said.

I

m not a fool, Cat, and I know you were pretending. You were with me almost to the last moment

I could feel it

and then I lost you somehow. You seemed to

drift away.

There was a silence, then Cat released herself from his clasp, biting her lip.

I

I

m sorry.


You have nothing to apologise for.

His tone was dry.

Obviously I should have taken more time

been more considerate.

She didn

t look at him.

I don

t think that would have made much difference. It just

doesn

t happen for me very often.


Yet you wanted me,

he said gently.

You weren

t faking that.


I can

t explain it,

she said in a muffled voice.

It

s as if I reach

and reach

but there

s nothing there.


And is it like that every time?

To which the answer was, Pretty much, Cat thought. But she had no intention of saying it.


I don

t think that

s up for discussion,

she said.

After all, we agreed

no past, no future, just the pleasure of the present.

She paused.

Or are you some kind of psychotherapist, wanting to delve into my subconscious? Because I

m not buying.


No,

Liam said, a sudden harshness in his voice.

I

m the man who

s just failed to satisfy you. But at least I can do something about that.

He pulled her to him, stifling with his mouth any protest she might have planned. But at the first touch of his lips Cat was beyond resistance, her surrender absolute.

His hands were travelling slowly down her pliant body, lingering, arousing. Making every sense, every nerve-ending quiver in this new awakening. And where his hands touched his mouth followed, feathering kisses on her vulnerable flesh.

His tongue teased her breasts, turning the rosy peaks to tingling hardness, and she closed her eyes, sighing, conscious of nothing but the piercing delight of the sensations he was evoking.

When he raised his head, she heard herself say thickly,

Don

t stop

you can

t stop…


I

ve only just begun.

There was a shadow of laughter in his answering whisper.

His lips travelled on down, over the flat plane of her stomach, caressing the tiny whorls of her navel, the hollows of her hipbones. His hands were stroking her thighs, and her body slackened in anticipation of the contact she yearned for, but which, tantalisingly, he did not seem to be offering.


Please.

Her voice did not seem to belong to her.

Oh

please.

Then she cried out as his mouth reached the joining of her thighs and found the molten, aching sweetness within. For one shocked, bewildered moment she tried to push him away, scared of this depth of intimacy, but he captured her wrists with one hand and held her helpless.

His tongue was a flame, gentle but intense, as it began to explore her most secret being, seeking her small hidden bud and coaxing it to exquisite life. He made it flicker against her, then stroke her with delicate finesse, before circling on her with voluptuous control. And without mercy.

Cat was breathless, small sounds coming from her throat as her head twisted on the pillow. There were tiny golden stars dancing behind her eyelids, and she could hear the blood roaring through her veins like the echo of a remorseless tide beating on the shore.

Everything else

each sense, each nerve, each atom of emotion

was focused, concentrated on this passionate agony of sensation he was creating for her. Nothing else existed but this lesson in her own sensuality that she was being taught by a master. She wasn

t even aware of the moment when he released her wrists.

Her inner heat was raging like a furnace. She realised in some outreach of her mind that she had reached the brink and was being held there endlessly, her body a silent scream for release.

When it came, it was like a quiet pulse beating deeply and insistently within her, gathering power and strength, rising to some undreamed-of height. Until he took her across the edge, and her body imploded into rapture, shuddering violently as each tremor tore through her.

And his name on her lips was a thanksgiving.

CHAPTER FOUR

AFTERWARDS, Cat lay, held close in his arms, absorbing the small ripples of delight that still assailed her, like the aftershock of an earthquake, with tears running down her face.


My darling,

Liam said softly, kissing her wet eyes.

My clever angel. Don

t cry.

Her voice trembled.

I never knew it could be like that

never dreamed…


I knew,

he told her gently.

From the first moment that we looked at each other, I knew.

She sighed.

Maybe I

m not as sophisticated as I thought.


So I discovered.

There was a wry twist to his mouth as he stroked her cheek.

Along with the fact that Cat the Tigress does not take her claws to bed. You

re quite an enigma, my love.


Is that better than being a male fantasy?

she queried sleepily, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder.

A laugh shook him.

Just different.

He added softly,

But I think you

ll still be fulfilling my fantasies long after I

ve solved the mystery.

She barely heard him. She was already drifting, heavy-lidded, into sleep. Sinking down through waves of contentment into a haven of dreamless rest.

When she awoke it was daylight, and fitful sunshine was glancing into the room through the open curtains. And she was alone in the big bed, with the covers drawn neatly over her.

What was more, she was once again wearing the nightgown she

d discarded a few hours previously, she realised, touching the soft fabric with disbelieving hands.

As she sat up and looked round the room Cat experienced a curious sense of disorientation. Because there was simply no sign that the room had ever been occupied by anyone but herself. Even the pillow beside her was plumped up and pristine.

Had the events of last night simply been a figment of her imagination? A kind of wish fulfilment? Could she have only dreamed Liam, and the rapture she

d found with him?

No, she thought, her body quickening with excitement. That wasn

t possible. Her senses were still basking in the afterglow of his lovemaking.

And her last memory was breathing the scent of his skin as she lay with her head on his shoulder and her face turned towards the curve of his neck.

Broodingly, Cat drew her knees up to her chin, her mouth tightening.

Falling asleep in his arms had not been part of the plan

if, of course, she

d ever had a plan. Somewhere along the way she

d been hijacked, all her good intentions blown to the four winds.

BOOK: Mistress at a Price
10.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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