A Scandal Made in London - Page 52

As his control snapped he slammed his mouth down on hers and kissed her as if it had been months instead of minutes. Beneath the onslaught she moaned and opened her mouth and when his tongue met hers, desire instantly flared like a flame to touchpaper. She whipped her arms around his neck and tilted her pelvis to his and it was all the encouragement he needed.

He pulled her closer, devouring her mouth, her jaw, her neck. She pushed her hands beneath the lapels of his jacket, and, without breaking the kiss, he shrugged out of it. She clawed at his shirt, yanking it free while he found the zip of her dress and slid it down. He lifted the hem and she wiggled her hips, and a second later he’d peeled it up over her head and tossed it on the floor.

And then he put his hands to her waist and his mouth to her breast, and when she whimpered, he drew her hard pink nipple between his lips and she whimpered some more.

But it wasn’t enough. It had been driving him mad not knowing what she tasted like, so he sank to his knees, and when she gasped and instinctively clamped her legs together, he slid a hand between her knees and eased it up. And when he reached the curls at the juncture of her thighs, he touched her there and stroked her lightly and she gave a soft sigh of surrender as her legs fell apart.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Theo tugged her knickers down and then off. He clamped his hands to her hips and put his mouth on her and then he knew exactly how she tasted. Sweet. Delicious. Irresistible. As he licked and sucked he felt her tremble and he held her more firmly, the desire rocketing through him almost unbearable.

Above him, there came a faint, ‘Oh, God,’ followed by the gentle thud of her head against the door, and he increased the pressure, the tempo, while she sobbed and gasped, and then her hands were clutching at his head while she pushed against him and then, with a soft hoarse cry, she shattered.

Tight with the need for release, he kissed his way back up her trembling body until he was upright again. Her eyes were glazed. Her cheeks were pink and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful, or anyone so desperate, and something shifted in his chest, something that might have concerned him if the way she was grappling with the button and zip of his trousers hadn’t concerned him more.

‘Stop,’ he grated, summoning up every drop of his control to still her hand.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t have a condom,’ he said tautly, every muscle of his body screaming in denial.

Devastation flitted across her face. ‘What?’ she said dazedly. ‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. You can’t get me more pregnant. And I trust you, Theo. On this. On everything.’

His chest tightened. ‘You shouldn’t. Not on everything.’

‘I know. But I do.’

Then she was a fool. But she had a point about it being too late. He was granite hard and the need to be inside her was burning through him like wildfire. There was no going back from this. Wild horses wouldn’t drag him away from her now. So he crushed his mouth to hers, lifted her leg to open her up to him and thrust into her tight wet heat and it was heaven.

He gave her a moment to accommodate him but he couldn’t hold still for long. Beneath his ravenous kisses she moaned and clung onto his shoulders. He began to move, knowing it wasn’t going to take much when she matched his every thrust with hot, increasingly frantic demands of her own.

And it didn’t. Within moments she was clenching around him again, gasping his name and sobbing and digging her fingers into his shoulders, and that was it. He felt his orgasm building in strength and momentum, and then it was barrelling through him as, with a roar, he thrust fast and hard, burying himself as deep as he could before fiercely and never-endingly spilling into her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

BY THE TIME Kate had recovered from the shuddering effects of two spectacular orgasms, she noticed that, encouragingly, Theo had got himself naked.

‘Bedroom,’ he muttered, grabbing her hand, his eyes so dark with the promise of more to come that incredibly she wanted him all over again. ‘Now.’

But the only thing holding her up was the door, and she had the helpless feeling that if she moved, she might well crumple to the floor. ‘I can’t,’ she said huskily, finally able to run her gaze over him, which only weakened her limbs further. ‘Legs. Like noodles.’

So he scooped her up and carried her, all six foot one of her, as if she weighed nothing, and strode up the stairs and into the bedroom. And while he was doing so, it suddenly struck her that she didn’t feel self-conscious at all. Moments ago, she’d been upright, bare, and totally exposed to him, and after her initial reservation, she’d loved it. Now her bits were jiggling and she was all squashed up against him, which wasn’t exactly flattering, and she didn’t even care. In fact, she felt incredible. As if she could do anything. Dance without falling over. Wear heels without towering above the man beside her. Take on the world.

And suddenly she wanted to find out not only how far she’d come but how far she could go. So when Theo took her into the softly lit bedroom and set her down beside the enormous bed, she planted one hand on his chest and pushed.

He landed in the middle of it, and stared at her first in shock and then with a slow smile that robbed her of breath. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and arched an eyebrow, as if daring her to go through with whatever she was planning, and while she didn’t have a plan she was more than up for accepting the challenge.

‘Where should I start?’ she asked, uncertainty nevertheless

making her hesitate.

‘Wherever you want.’

‘What if you don’t like it?’

His eyes gleamed. ‘I suspect there is nothing you can do that I won’t like, Kate.’

Tags: Lucy King Billionaire Romance
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