Mistletoe Not Required - Page 36

He’d be on the road out of town first thing tomorrow.

For now he concentrated on guiding himself to her entrance and arousing her with slow smooth strokes while she supported herself on her arms in such a way so that her breasts grazed his chest. The inexperienced seducing the player with the kind of sweet torture he almost wished could last for ever.

‘We won’t do anything until you’re ready.’

Her laughter, surprisingly earthy, filled the quiet room. ‘My one and only Secret Sinner-Santa. I’ve been ready for you since Christmas Eve.’

Unlike her robust amusement, beneath the cold white light filtering through the shutters her usually sun-kissed skin took on the fragile appearance of delicate porcelain, and he discovered he was the one trembling. Apparently his sexy skipper was as daring in the bedroom as she was on the ocean.

Fascinating, Olivia thought, how a man’s body could be so different but fit so beautifully with hers. He’d set the mood to mellow, the pace to slow and for now she was happy to go with it.

Slow didn’t mean less intense, oh no. For her tonight, the journey was as important as the destination. And since this was a one-off, she intended to make it last. All the way to Morningtown.

‘Olivia...’

She’d noticed Jett only used her real name when something was serious. She looked down, met his eyes and saw something tender, almost vulnerable, beneath the raw and primitive. When she blinked it was gone.

‘Jett...’ she murmured back, instinctively lowering her mouth to his to soothe and assuage and distract. And seduce.

He gripped her jaw and let his lips slide over hers, back and forth. ‘I’m glad you changed your mind.’

She nibbled the shell of his ear and whispered, ‘So am I.’

‘I love your breasts,’ he murmured, his lips and tongue teasing the ruched tips.

Her breath caught. One day those breasts he so admired would betray her. She wondered vaguely how he’d feel about her if they were gone. How any man would feel about a woman who was only half a woman.

‘Anything wrong?’ He paused and his gaze flicked to hers, concerns and questions in their depths.

‘Nothing,’ she whispered, pushing bad thoughts away, pulling his head down to her breast again. ‘Don’t stop.’ Her fingers tightened as she stroked his silky hair. ‘Give me everything. I want it all.’

No lover could have been more caring and attentive and patient than Jett. The low rumble of his voice, the unhurried way he moved his hands over her. He knew just where to touch, to taste, how to make her body sing with nothing more than words.

Lovely lingering caresses, slow murmurs, exquisitely sensual. The drift of light over his face. Nerves melting away in the warmth of his gaze. Time to savour, to enjoy.

There was nothing but this moment, this place. This man. Her mind was filled with him, lazy limbs sliding against his, the scent of their mingled bodies rising up between them.

His muscles were taut, humming, and she knew what it was costing a hot-blooded, experienced man like Jett to go so slowly. A considerate lover, allowing her to set the pace, to take control.

There were no words exchanged as they explored one another. Just murmurs of delight at each new discovery. The way he shuddered when she licked inside his ear. The feel of corded muscle beneath firm skin. Contrasts and textures. She’d never thought a man’s body would be so appealing to touch or feel so pleasurable against hers.

And when the unrelenting passion drove her to the point of madness, she lowered her body onto his heat and strength and, with a sigh of delight, she took him inside her. Their gazes fused and pleasure reigned. She arched and slowly began to move with him.

Finally, this time when she reached that glorious vortex, he was right there with her, sharing the flash and sizzle as they took flight over the edge together.

Neither of them moved for several minutes. Or it might have been hours. She might have slept but she was sure she hadn’t. How could she sleep after the most amazing experience of her life? All she was sure of was that this guy lying beside her, his breathing slow and even and a hairy thigh resting heavy between her legs, was out for the count.

No pillow talk, then. And it wasn’t what she and Jett were about anyway. One night was all it had ever been, all it would ever be; they both understood that. And she was relieved he was asleep because it would make it easier to slip away, redress and let herself out—sans panties.

No need for conversation. No awkward moments and face-to-face morning-after. She needed time alone to think about the night, to replay it in her mind—and store it in her heart.

Because in spite of all the warnings she’d given herself, she was falling for him. Falling for him in a bigger way than she’d ever dreamed of. Oh, he was a playboy and way too sure of himself, but the more time she spent with him, the more she discovered about him. And she liked what she was finding. Behind that devil-may-care attitude, he was the kind of guy who liked to have fun and respected others. He’d respected her decisions and let her make the first move. Respect was something Jason had never had. Certainly not for her anyway.

Tags: Anne Oliver Billionaire Romance
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