The Secrets She Must Tell - Page 34

A couple of days? Halle-bloody-lujah. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Very much so.’

‘Then we’re going to need a lot more than one.’

‘I bought out the pharmacy.’

She was truly unbelievable. ‘You know what?’ he muttered, practically passing out with the strength of the need now drumming through him. ‘I think we’re done here.’

* * *

To Finn’s intense frustration, however, leaving the party took a while. As he strode towards the exit, just about resisting the temptation to drag Georgie along behind him and instead maintaining a civilised although determined speed, people kept coming up to him wanting to chat. Infuriatingly, no one seemed to be deterred either by the electricity he knew was rolling off him or the curtness of his replies. How he managed to refrain from telling everyone to move the hell out of his way so he could get upstairs and ravish the woman at his side he had no idea. The five minutes during which they had to stop and pose for a series of press photographs were quite possibly the longest of his life.

By the time they made it into the lift Finn’s jaw was tight and he ached all over with the effort of restraint. Once inside, Georgie took up a position on one mirrored side of the car and he leaned against the opposite wall. Any closer and he might not be able to wait for privacy. He didn’t even trust himself to speak, just kept his hand in his pocket, touching the condom, as if not doing so might make it a figment of his imagination. But he didn’t take his eyes off her and she didn’t stop looking at him, their gazes and their bodies communicating in a way that rendered words unnecessary.

Time passed agonisingly slowly, the space between them filling with tension and vibrating with need, but eventually the lift arrived at their floor. The minute the doors whooshed open, Finn grabbed Georgie’s hand and strode towards their room. As soon as he got her inside he had her up against the door and in his arms, their mouths meeting in a hot clash of teeth and tongues that went on and on until his head emptied of everything but her and the clawing need to be inside her.

He ran his hands down her body, moulding them to her shape while she tugged furiously at his shirt. At the feel of her hands on the skin of his back he shuddered and for a moment wanted to pause and revel in her touch, but he wasn’t to be distracted. Nothing was going to stop him from ridding of clothes the parts of her he wanted naked.

When he reached her mid-thigh and the fabric of her dress had some give he bunched it in his fists and shoved it up. With a soft, encouraging moan that turned him to granite she edged her legs apart and pushed her hips forwards. He skimmed his hand over the delicate lace of her knickers and she gasped, and when he slipped his fingers beneath the thin waistband her breathing became shallow, her breasts heaving against the restrictive bodice of her dress.

‘You’re so hot,’ he muttered. ‘So wet.’

‘Stop talking,’ she panted.

‘No foreplay?’

‘Haven’t we had enough of that already?’

‘More than enough.’

‘Then hurry. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait and I really want you inside me when I come.’

The desperation he could hear in her voice stoked his desire like a can of petrol being tossed on a bonfire, and the flames raged within him. Shaking slightly, he eased away to yank his trousers and shorts off and roll the condom on while she pushed her knickers down and kicked them to one side. And then he was back in front of her, wrapping his hands around the backs of her thighs and lifting her up.

Their gazes locked as he thrust up and she pushed down, and he saw something hot and unidentifiable flare in the depths of her eyes before she closed them with a soft, ragged groan. Her head thudded against the door as she dropped it back and he couldn’t help moving.

Driven on by an urgency and total lack of control he’d never felt before, Finn buried his head in her neck and pulled out of her and then thrust back in, as deep as he could go. He did it again and again, harder and faster, until she was clinging on to his shoulders, her legs tight around his waist, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as she muttered little cries of, ‘Oh, God, yes.’

And then suddenly he could feel his orgasm rush towards him with the speed and force of a tsunami and he was too far gone to hold back. Everything inside him tightened, the pressure coiling in his groin so intense that it almost hurt. And when, with a cry, Georgie shattered, trembling in his arms and convulsing around him, he thrust one last time, hard and deep, and erupted as the pleasure hit and spun through him like a starburst.

How long he spent slumped against her in the quiet darkness, his heart thundering in time with hers, he had no idea. After what could well have been the most intense experience of his life, he wasn’t capable of thought, much less reason. All he could do was drop his forehead to hers, his breathing harsh and his control in pieces, and whisper, ‘You are incredible.’

* * *

The following morning when she woke, Georgie stretched and grin

ned like the cat who’d got the cream, or a woman whose body had been put to thoroughly good use.

Muscles deep inside her ached. She felt all soft and languid and buzzy. Last night had been brilliant. She hadn’t realised how frustrating not having full sex had been, but it had clearly been very frustrating indeed, because with the flourishing of that condom she’d unleashed a beast in both of them that had kept going until the early hours of the morning, when they’d both collapsed into a sated, sleepy tangle of sheets. Hard and fast, soft and sensuous, on the bed, in the shower, they’d done it all...

But it wasn’t just the mind-blowing sex that had made the night so amazing. It was the realisation she’d just come to that, after months of darkness, there was finally light. Everything was falling into place and, to her giddy relief and delight, the shadows were fading and it felt as if she was back.

And, while she didn’t know about being incredible, she certainly felt invincible right now, which was in no small part down to the man stretched out beside her, who was sliding a hand down her body and doing a very good job of making her forget everything but him and her and the way he made her physically feel.

Or, rather, attempting to.

Because she wasn’t quite so addled with desire that she’d forget about her son.

Tags: Lucy King Billionaire Romance
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