Wanton Heat (A Feel the Heat Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (8 page)

“That is so fricking hot,” she murmured, and as he glanced up, he saw her watching him.

In response, he lapped at her, increasing the pressure with his tongue, varying the speed, until she was panting and writhing.

“Dom, oh my God, yeah,” she screamed, her fingers digging into his scalp as she came.

On the verge himself, he didn’t waste any time. He sheathed himself in record time, then reached for her hips and tugged her to the edge of the counter before slamming into her.

No finesse. No softness. Hard and fast like the first time.

He couldn’t seem to control his reaction to her unashamed sexuality, couldn’t seem to focus on anything but being inside her tight wetness.

“More,” she demanded, urging him on by clutching at his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist.

So he delivered. Pumping into her until he was mindless, caught up in the throes of an orgasm so powerful, he almost blacked out.

She convulsed around him a moment later, her passion-fogged gaze locked on his.

Dominic wanted to speak. He wanted to say how she made him feel: like a hormonal teenager who couldn’t keep it in his pants around her. That she deserved to be romanced. Or at least indulged in hours worth of foreplay.

But he was rendered speechless by the expression in her eyes. Gratitude. And something else. Something akin to the same crazy, out-of-control feeling ricocheting through him, a feeling he had no hope of labeling, because he didn’t have a frigging clue what it was.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” She smiled and it lit up the room.

“What?”

“You owe me a double serving of pancakes.”

…

Zoe couldn’t move.

She lay sprawled on the way-too-comfy sofa, her stomach full of pancakes and maple syrup. How many had she demolished? Three? Five? She’d lost count after the sixth. Because as long as she kept her mouth full, she had no reason to talk. And that’s one activity she really didn’t want to do with Dominic within hearing distance: talk.

After what they’d done, first up against the hallway wall and less than ten minutes later on the kitchen counter? No, talking was out of the question, because Zoe may just say exactly what she was thinking…
holy sexed-up prince
!

She hated to admit, but in most of her sexual encounters, she was the one in charge. She knew what she liked and didn’t hesitate in telling the guy how to get her off.

With Dominic? No. Words. Necessary.

No instructions or gentle guiding with her hands either. The man had a way with his tongue and his cock that defied belief.

He wanted. He took.

She liked that, too. Liked it a little on the rough side. There was a time and place for finesse, and the last hour hadn’t been it.

With the storm raging outside, it was almost like they’d faced a tumultuous storm of their own. If she’d been horny, looked like the randy prince had been doubly so.

She’d been a fool to think they could ignore their sexual attraction, dance around the flirting, without eventually hitting breaking point.

So now that they’d passed that point, where to from here?

Zoe had a presentation to give. To nail. But how did she look the guy in the eye when the last time she’d done that, he’d had his face between her legs?

Like any guy worthy of the gender, he’d bolted to his man cave after their encore performance in the kitchen. She’d cooked the pancakes herself and scoffed most of them. So there’d been no awkward post-sex conversation, no confronting what needed to be said: that they put this behind them and move on to more professional ground.

Yeah, right.

Her stomach grumbled, and she rubbed it. She really shouldn’t have had that last pancake. Just like she really shouldn’t have had sex with Dominic.

Man, Allegra would have a fit when she heard…Zoe reached for her cell before realizing the storm hadn’t abated, so contact with the outside world would be via the satellite phone she’d spied in the hallway. And the last thing she felt like doing was articulating the mess she’d made of this business opportunity to her BFF.

Damn. She may have fucked royalty, but she was the one who’d ended up royally fucked.

“Thanks for cooking the pancakes; they were great.” Dominic entered the lounge and chose the seat farthest away from her.

“Do I have girl cooties?” She pretended to sniff at her armpits, silently grateful he hadn’t sat close. The last thing she needed right now was a repeat of the last time they’d gotten too cozy. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy it. But she needed to establish boundaries, and getting naked with Dominic wouldn’t achieve that.

“I think we both know what will happen if I sit next to you,” he said, the instant flare of heat in his steady gaze garnering a response from her way down, and she struggled not to squirm.

“That’s what we need to talk about.” She sat up, clasped her hands in her lap, and tried to look semiprofessional. “It can’t happen again.”

Far from appearing disappointed, he relaxed into the chair. “Why not?”

“Because it was an aberration. A spontaneous, irresponsible act between two people annoyed with each other and venting their frustration physically…” She trailed off, hoping he’d buy her holier-than-thou speech.

By the smirk playing about his mouth, he didn’t. “Yes, it was spontaneous. And yes, we seem to annoy each other. But an aberration?” He shook his head. “Don’t demean what we shared.”

Hell. She’d expected him to agree with her. To gloss over the stupendous sex and move on to business. His resistance? Not conducive to her plans to focus on work.

“What we shared meant nothing beyond lust.” She dusted off her hands. “Now that itch is scratched, we can move on.”

“You’re asking me to forget it?” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “Because that’s impossible,
cara
.” His hypnotic stare made her flush all over. “Sex with you surpassed my fantasies.”

Oh, boy.

She swallowed. “You’ve been fantasizing about me?”

Wrong question, dumbass
. It sounded nothing like “Are you ready to hear my pitch?” The question she should’ve asked.

He nodded. “Since the moment we met on the castle grounds.” His bold gaze roved over her body, making her breasts tingle and the rest of her throb with longing. “I like how you say what you think. And you don’t hide behind coyness. It’s refreshing.” Her nipples tightened to peaks as he stared at her breasts before tearing his gaze away. “And I would like to continue.”

“Continue what?”

As if she needed to ask. She could see exactly what he wanted, and in any other situation the feeling would be entirely mutual. But she couldn’t afford to muddy business with pleasure. Not with so much at stake.

“Having phenomenal sex with you.” He gestured at the window. “I miscalculated. This storm won’t pass today. It may not even pass tomorrow. In which case we’ll be stuck indoors ’til it clears, and I can give you a tour of the island. So between now and then, I propose we indulge our mutual passion.”

Zoe would like nothing better. But he’d forgotten the most important indoor activity they could do: signing off on her proposal, the biggest advertising coup for the agency since they’d landed Kai Kaluna.

She needed Dom to agree to her advertising campaign. It was the only way she could prove herself: to Allegra, to her coworkers, to the residual inner doubt demon that never let up with the “you majorly fucked up once; you’ll do it again.”

“What about my pitch?”

He drummed his fingers against his thighs, pretending to think. “We make a trade. I’ll listen to your presentation tomorrow if you give me the rest of the evening in bed.”

“You’re
blackmailing
me into sleeping with you?”

Like she needed her arm twisted. She’d be naked and straddling him in two seconds flat given the opportunity.

“Let’s call it gentle persuasion,” he said, his grin triumphant. “This evening, I want to take my time with you,
cara
. I want to strip you, shower with you, and take hours to explore your body with my mouth and my hands.”

His eyes darkened to midnight. “I want to pleasure you repeatedly. Want to tease you. Want to take you over and over ’til dawn.”

Wow. Simply wow.

How could Zoe say no in the face of such sensual honesty?

“You should’ve been a diplomat with that silver tongue,” she said, trying not to show how much his words had affected her.

She wasn’t used to guys being so overtly…
sexual
. The American guys she’d slept with rated dinner, movie, drinks, and five minutes of foreplay as their wooing repertoire. But having Dominic articulate exactly what he wanted to do to her was the best foreplay she’d ever had.

“My tongue is all yours for as long as we’re here, if you want it.”

Oh, she wanted. Despite all her self-talk of the last few minutes, despite all the logical, rational reasons she shouldn’t have sex with him again. Man, did she want.

“So you’ll hear my presentation in full tomorrow morning?”

“Make it the afternoon.” He stood and held out his hand to her. “I think we’ll both need to sleep in tomorrow.”

Zoe rarely hesitated. She knew what she wanted out of life and wasn’t afraid to go out and grab it. But as she stared at Dominic’s hand, she knew accepting his proposition had danger written all over it.

A few wild, impulsive sexual encounters could be written off as satisfying urges. Spending an entire night in his arms had the power to undermine her completely.

She avoided intimacy. Intimacy led to dependency and emotional instability and heartache. She should know. She’d seen it firsthand, growing up with parents who gave any connection beyond superficial a bad name.

“
Cara
?”

“I’m not your darling,” she muttered, finally standing and placing her hand in his.

“For tonight, you will be.” He raised her hand to his lips, turned it over, and placed a soft kiss in her palm before curling her fingers over it.

Yeah, she was royally fucked.

Chapter Four

As Dominic lit the final candle and surveyed the bedroom, he was surprised to find he was nervous.

He had aced his Oxford finals, had presented to European delegations at economic summits, and had mingled easily with fellow royalty. Nerves were as foreign to him
as the woman taking a bath in the next room.

What was it about Zoe Keaton that made him feel so off-kilter?

She’d been right. They shouldn’t do this again. Should’ve attributed their first few explosive encounters as lust between two people who didn’t trust or necessarily like each other. Fuck, he’d labeled her a leech, and she’d called him on it.

But despite every innate defense mechanism warning him she was a user like everyone else, he couldn’t deny her other qualities. Her honesty was reassuring. He liked how she didn’t mince words. And he sure as hell liked how she demonstrated what she wanted.

No, this wasn’t anything to do with her. It was him. Ever since she’d marched into his castle like she owned the place, he’d been a little off-balance. Nothing overt, but he felt it, with the kind of deep-down instincts that told him he shouldn’t allow tourists to overrun this part of the world.

Not that he would tell Zoe that yet. Plenty of time to let her down gently after she’d done her presentation.

It would be tough. Damn tough, looking into those big brown eyes and dashing her dreams. But she must have a plethora of other options, other clients to advertise for, so it wouldn’t make or break her one way or the other.

He’d done his research. While her firm AW Advertising had gone through a shaky patch not that long ago after losing several major clients, landing Kai Kaluna’s worldwide resorts had been a coup that rocketed the agency straight to the top. Interestingly, it looked like Zoe had been made partner only recently, which explained her gung-ho attitude. Her presentation to him would be her first as a partner, and it stood to reason she’d want to secure the deal. But if the founder, Allegra Wilks, trusted Zoe enough to make her a partner, it wasn’t likely she’d fire her if things didn’t go so well.

And sadly for Zoe, his plans and hers were worlds apart.

The door creaked open, and Dominic took a deep breath, surreptitiously swiping his palms down the side of his pants. He’d showered and changed, wanting to make amends. Wanting to show her he could be a tender, considerate lover, not the sex-crazed maniac who liked it rough-and-ready whenever he felt like it.

“Nice,” she said, glancing around the room as she stepped inside and shut the door. “Aromatherapy candles to get me in the mood, huh?”

“Neither of us needs help in that department,” he said, willing himself to stand still and not bolt across the room to haul her into his arms.

She looked amazing in an ivory satin nightgown that ended mid-thigh, its sheen highlighting her skin perfectly. She glimmered in the candlelight. Incandescent. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.

“You’re staring.” She squared her shoulders, enjoying the attention, and the flimsy spaghetti straps holding her nightgown together tugged, highlighting her breasts.

“I can’t look away.”

His simple truth made her lips curve into a coy smile. “Just so you know, all that posh romantic stuff you say? Goes to my head.”

“No man has ever said such things to you?”

She laughed, but it sounded more bitter than amused. “Trust me, you’re way ahead of the field in the romance stakes.”

“But I thought…I mean, the way I was forceful…earlier…ah,
testa di cazzo
,” he said, every inch a dickhead, stumbling over his words like an adolescent.

“I have no idea what you just said, but I love it when you speak Italian.” She padded toward him and he held his breath. “As for earlier? When we went at like a couple of sex-starved lunatics? I liked it. A lot. So don’t think I need all the romance stuff, because I don’t. I like it, but I don’t need it.”

She stopped a foot away, her honesty blowing him away.

“Then what do you need?”

He wanted her to say “you.” He willed her to say “you.”

“This.” She placed a hand over his heart, and it bucked beneath her palm.

He knew she hadn’t meant that she wanted his heart, that all she wanted was to touch him. But for an insane moment, he was actually disappointed she didn’t want him for more.

“I’m all yours,” he said, deliberately standing still, curious to see what she would do next.

He’d been in control during their first two encounters, and he wanted to see what she’d do. Would Zoe be as bold in the bedroom as she was verbally?

“You’re a brave man, putting yourself in my hands,” she said, sliding her palm downward until it rested above his hard cock. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll have my wicked way with you?”

“A guy can always live in hope,” he said, and she laughed, a genuinely happy sound that made something in his chest twang.

He hadn’t experienced many chest twangs in his lifetime. He’d mistakenly thought his heart belonged to Lilia at one stage, but he’d never been as hot for her as he was for Zoe. Not that that amounted to much. Just meant Zoe turned him on, and once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. He had a serious case of lust. Stupid, comparing an island fling with Zoe to his relationship with Lilia. But the fact that he’d been engaged to Lilia and had never wanted her as badly as he wanted Zoe probably spoke volumes.

“You know I’m going to make you beg, right?” Her fingers toyed with the hem of his T-shirt before she peeled it upward and over his head. “I’m going to love having a prince bowing at my feet.”

“You just want me kneeling, because that aligns my tongue with your—”

She kissed him, a soft brush of her lips against his. A kiss designed to tease. To titillate. To drive a guy insane with wanting her.

He tried to deepen the kiss, but she wouldn’t let him, deliberately easing away, only to kiss him again before their lips broke contact completely. Her hands skimmed his chest, his back, and lingered on his waist, toying with his waistband.

Her featherlight touch was as soft as her kisses, and it was driving him wild.

He gritted his teeth against the urge to pick her up, throw her on the bed, and enter her.

Fuck, where did these caveman tendencies come from whenever he was around her?

She trailed kisses toward his ear, where she whispered, “Ready to beg yet?”

“If it’ll get you naked, absolutely.”

“So much for romantic declarations,” she said, nibbling on his earlobe.

A fierce need to possess her ripped through him, but he clenched his hands into fists to prevent himself from grabbing her. He could do this. Could let her call the shots. Could control his rampant libido that sat up and howled every time she got within two feet of him.

As she toyed with his zipper, he blurted, “I lied.”

She stilled. “About?”

“About wanting to take it slow.” He stepped away, putting some much-needed distance between them before he lost it completely. “At the risk of sounding like an absolute idiot, there’s something about you that makes me go a little nuts.”

“Nuts is good. Especially these.” She reached out to cup him in response, and he yelped. “We’re on the same page. That’s a start.”

“See, there you go again.” He jabbed a finger in her direction. “With your quick-fire wit and sassiness and intelligence. Making me want you more than is good for me.”

“News flash, Your Hot Highness.” She waved a hand between them. “I’ll never be good for you. So let’s settle for me being bad, okay?” She stepped forward, bringing her within tantalizing touching distance again. “Trust me. Me being bad can only be good.”

She placed two hands on his chest and shoved, hard. Hard enough that he toppled backward onto the bed. He laughed, and damn, it felt great. Zoe stood over him, a wicked grin playing about her mouth.

“Now watch.” She plucked at the little knotted bows on her shoulders, and the spaghetti straps unraveled. The nightie slithered to the floor, leaving her gloriously, eye-poppingly naked.

He’d been a dumbass, taking her hard and fast earlier. Because without disrobing, he’d missed out on
this.

Zoe had curves. Womanly curves. Generous C cups. Smaller waist. Wider hips.

Then she did a deliberate twirl, and he almost leaped off the bed.

Her ass was perfection.

She slowly turned back to face him, one eyebrow raised. “How’s that for bad?”

“More,” he demanded, his lungs seizing as she placed her hand over his cock.

“You didn’t say please.” Her fingernails scraped over his zipper, rasping over the metal, deliberately grazing his cock but not freeing him.

“Please,” he said through gritted teeth, propping himself on his elbows to watch as she snagged the zip tab and gave it a little tug.

“That sounded mighty close to begging, so I’ll play nice.” She snapped the top button open and eased the zipper down.

He craved her touch like a madman. After what seemed like an eternity later, she slipped her hand inside and touched him. A slow, deliberate stroke that started at his balls, slid up his shaft, and squeezed his head.

He groaned, a desperate sound that matched how he was feeling. Desperate for her.

“At the risk of your ego swelling as big as this”—she squeezed him again—“your crown jewels are seriously impressive.”

“Glad you approve,” he managed to say, as she eased his pants over his waist and shimmied them down his legs, before flinging them away.

“That’s better.” She stared at him, her hungry gaze gobbling him from head to foot, like she couldn’t get enough. “Much better.”

She looked away for a moment and spied the condoms he’d left on the bedside table.

“I want to pleasure you—”

“Later,” she said, placing a fingertip to his lips. “I believe you promised me all night?” She leaned over and plucked a foil packet from the stack. “But for now, we do this my way.”

“As you wish.”

She smiled at his formal response. A smile that grew positively impish as she ripped the foil with her teeth, slid the condom out, and rolled it over him with exquisite, torturous precision.

“Watch out, Dom, things are about to get real bad,” she said, climbing onto the bed to straddle him.

“I’m all for bad,” he said, reaching for her breasts, but she swatted him away.

“Look, but don’t touch.” She cupped her breasts, as if offering them to him. “For now,” she added, tweaking a nipple with one hand, the other sliding lower to rest over her Brazilian.

“I like it when you call me Dom,” he said, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of Zoe touching herself.

For that’s exactly what she was doing while poised over him. Fingering herself. Touching her clit. Getting off. And damned if it wasn’t the most exciting fucking thing he’d ever seen.

“Haven’t had a nickname before?” She lowered herself a fraction, and her wet entrance brushed the head of his cock. “Because Dom suits you. Dominant. Domineering. Dominion.”

“You can call me any damn thing you like,
cara
, but right now, I need to be inside you.” He thrust upward a little, as her finger on her clit picked up the pace.

“Your wish is my command, Your Horny Highness,” she said, sliding down inch by delicious inch, impaling herself on him.

“Horny Highness?” He laughed, probably for the first time during sex. It felt good. Natural. “Think I prefer Dom.”

“Me, too.” Her knees squeezed his hips as she lifted up, then slid down again, maintaining a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent him insane.

He craved taking it fast, pumping into her until the relentless tension spiraling through his body released.

But he lay there, obeying orders. Not touching her. Letting her set the pace. Watching her touch herself.

And wondering the entire time where this amazing woman had been all his life.

“I think I’ve been bad enough,” she said, pumping her hips faster. “Now it’s time for the good part.”

As he watched, she continued to pleasure herself, managing to hold back her orgasm until the pressure in his balls built, and he exploded with a guttural groan. Only then did she push herself over the edge, her cries mingling with his as they slowly came back down to earth.

He finally gave in to the urge to reach for her. She hesitated a second before allowing him to pull her down to lie on top of him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

“
Cara
?”

“Hmm?”

“Give me five minutes, then I think it’s my turn to be bad.”

“Deal,” she murmured, snuggling into him, and for the first time since he’d thrown reservations to the wind and had sex with Zoe, he wondered how something so wrong, so fleeting, so transiently fun, could feel so damn right.

…

Zoe sat at the dining table, perusing her notes one last time before presenting to Dom.

Because that’s how she’d always think of him after last night. Dom. Relaxed. Sensual. A sexual god.

Dominic was far too formal. And nothing like the laid-back guy she’d had sex with five times last night.

He made her less nervous. But if he strutted into this room and had reverted to the surly arrogant prick he’d been when they’d met, she was in so much trouble.

Like she wasn’t already.

The storm still raged outside, but it was nothing compared with the one she waged against herself.