'God, but I want you,' Luc groaned, and with one knee he parted her shapely legs, his long fingers finding and stroking the damp, sensitive flesh at fee very centre of her femininity with slow, sensual pleasure, Only his laboured breathing and the trembling of his huge, hard body against her betrayed his massive effort to retain his self-control.
Parisa arched off the bed, her heart stopping as shudders of ecstasy rippled through her. Her fingers dug into his taut buttocks, her long legs thrashing wildly. The pleasure was too much, almost pain. 'Luc. She whimpered his name, and, as though it was the sign had been waiting for, he gathered her to him and drove into her, thrusting deep into her innermost core, claiming tier completely.
He reared up on his hands, their bodies still joined, and stared into her flushed, love-swollen features. 'I want to watch you; I want to see what my body does to you, he rasped, holding her pinned beneath him. Then slowly he 'began to move with strong, pounding strokes, his eyes wild, fee pupils dilated to glittering black orbs of frenzied passion.
Parisa, her own eyes reflecting the same unbridled passion, reached out to Luc. Her skin burnt, her body was on fire, and she closed her eyes, as Luc increased the pressure, delving yet deeper, filling her so totally feat she didn't think she could bear any more. But she was wrong, as Luc moved, plunging to a faster rhythm which her own body instinctively matched. She wound her long legs around his waist, clinging tighter. The tension inside her stretched to screaming pitch; she was sure she must die from the pleasure. Then she did scream—a long, keening yell, as spasm after spasm convulsed her in shattering pleasure. Her arms wrapped around his massive shoulders, her nails clawing at his smooth flesh, as his hard, sweat-slicked frame shuddered in a violent climactic response.
They were lying, bodies still joined in the afterglow of rapture. Parisa slowly dropped her arms to the bed as the glory faded and sanity returned. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the glaring electric light. She had not even had the benefit of darkness to hide her wanton behaviour. A tear trickled down her cheek, but it went unnoticed by Luc who, with a self-satisfied groan, rolled off her.
Furtively she wiped, her cheek, and turned on her side away from him. She grasped the edge of the cover and made an ineffectual attempt to pull it over her throbbing nakedness.
Luc forestalled her, as his hand reached out over her shoulder to grab the cover and push it back. He swept the tangled mass of her hair to one side and, his mouth warm and firm, brushed a kiss against the side of her neck. His arm circled her waist and pulled her around to face him.
Parisa was trapped by the quivering sensations which her body welcomed but her head despised. She stared up into his darkly flushed face. He was supporting his weight on one elbow, and with his other hand he gently flicked the hair from her forehead.
'So, Parisa, are you willing to admit the truth?' he demanded huskily. 'There was never any question of force between you and I. I only have to touch you and the chemical reaction between us is as explosive as ever.
You are one electric lady in bed. You're everything a man could want,' he added, his sensuous mouth quirking at the corners in a wicked smile.
Parisa, her body sated, but her emotions torn to shreds, hated him at that moment. 'My body might want you, but in my heart I despise you'
'I have no interest in the female heart; it is remarkably fickle. Your body will do very nicely, thank you very much...' he drawled cynically.
He was a heartless swine. Parisa had always known that, but the pain that knifed through her breast at his words left her feeling raw, and used. Helplessly aware of his warm, damp flesh hard against her, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Not by a single flicker of emotion would she reveal how much he had hurt her. Her pride wouldn't allow it.
'You do surprise me. As I remember, you seemed to think I was less than pleasing the last time,' she prompted. She hadn't forgotten his taunt.
'I must have been mistaken, or perhaps, like a fine w
ine, you improve with age,' he mocked throatily. 'I'd better have another sip; just to make sure, you understand ...' His dark head bent towards her.
'Oh, God! No,' she groaned, trying to push him away, but his lips, surprisingly gentle, teased and nibbled at her mouth with devastating effect, until he eased her on to her back, one long leg nudged between her thighs, and she felt the stirring of his renewed arousal. She tried to stop the shiver of awareness that made her body quiver in anticipation, but, as if sensing her brief resistance, he deepened the kiss, his tongue darting between her teeth in a probing game of seduction.
Not again, her mind screamed, but her trembling body had a will of its own that was much more powerful. Her small hands stopped pushing him away, and instead stroked up to his wide shoulders.
Luc raised his head when he felt her capitulation. His smouldering eyes fixed on her swollen breasts, and his hand trailed over the luscious mounds and lower, to her stomach, tracing her feminine contours with a tactile delight. His fingers stroked her gently, intimately, down to the soft brush of pale hair. Her hips arched towards him, her body once more ablaze with need.
'A natural blonde. All cool and ice on the outside' his voice was low and husky with desire '—and all fire and passion within.' He crushed her beneath his own taut and ready body.
Parisa did not even attempt to deny him. She was defeated, drowning in a violent torrent of emotions she could not control. Their bodies fused together as though they were made for each other, pale skin against golden brown. Wet with sweat, musky with the scent of love, they writhed in a primitive pagan rhythm, hands and mouths, clinging bodies straining for the ultimate climax. Until finally they lay drained and sated, in a tangle of limbs.
'I'm not sure I can last two weeks,' Luc groaned some time later, and, rolling over her, he pushed back the covers, and then rolled back, taking her pliant body with him. Gently he pulled the covers over them.
Parisa only vaguely registered his words, her eyes closed, and she made no demur when Luc put a possessive arm around her waist and tucked her into the hard warmth of his huge body. She was asleep...
She was unaware of the large man, wide awake, feasting his eyes on her sleeping form, and, when she stirred slightly, carefully tucking the satin sheet around under her chin, or of the gentle kiss he placed on her soft cheek, before reaching out and switching off the light, closing his eyes, and burying his face in the soft, sweet fragrance of her silver-blonde hair. His whispered 'My moon goddess' went unheard in the silence of the night.
Parisa woke up slowly. At first she did not know where she was; she was only conscious of feeling wonderfully warm and safe. Then suddenly reality returned. Luc's long arm encircled her waist. She moved slightly, edging away from him, and he turned, groaning in his sleep, to lie with his back to her.
She couldn't believe the enormity of what she had done. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling as the morning light darted through the window. She watched the motes of dust dancing in the spring sunshine, and seriously considered flight as she despaired over her folly of the previous night. But she quickly dismissed the notion. She had made a deal, and she had to stick to it. It was her own idiotic fault that she had ended up in bed with Luc.
The deep, even sound of his breathing was the only noise in the room. He hadn't lied to her. Devious, a lie by omission, maybe. He must have known full well that she had thought he meant a platonic marriage of convenience. God knew that he read her mind easily enough at any other time, she thought angrily. Too well...
Resentment burned within her. His expertise as a lover was not in doubt: last night had proved that. She had surrendered to his masterful passion with humiliating ease. She cringed inwardly at the thought of her wanton response to his lovemaking. Her mind reeled with one crazy thought after another. Dear heaven! How was she going to survive the next fortnight? But more terrifying was how would she survive the rest of her life without him?
Parisa had told herself over and over again that she didn't love Luc, that it had been a mental aberration, that was all. But now, lying naked in bed with him, the heat of him reaching out to her, the musky scent of him lingering on the air she breathed, she finally admitted it. She had lied to herself, surely the very worst kind of lie... She had agreed to his business proposition, when perhaps, deep in her subconscious., .had she been hoping to end up in his arms again?
She had been bitter and disillusioned when he had not contacted her on her return to London, determined to block him out of her mind, but now she was forced to readjust her thinking. She still loved him... Luc was a user and a taker, ruthless in the pursuit of what he wanted, the gratification of his own desire his main aim. How could she love him? But, deep down, a little voice whispered. He was not entirely selfish as a lover. He certainly gratified all Parisa's desire; he had the power to take her to the heights and beyond.