Читать книгу Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender: Seducing His Enemy's Daughter / Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian / Soldier Under Siege - Эль Кеннеди, Annie West - Страница 14

CHAPTER SEVEN

DONATO LOOKED DOWN into stunning blue-grey eyes, grown huge and wary. He felt the doubt radiating from Ella, just as he felt the heat of her sexual arousal.

His body was taut, humming with need. He couldn’t quite believe the effort it took not to step closer and persuade her into surrender as he knew he could. The attraction dragging at his belly, arcing between them, was powerful.

But there’d been something about the way she’d mentioned her sister, on top of her talk of being forced, that held him back. He’d seen the quickly veiled hint of fragility in Ella’s expression.

He didn’t have her measure yet but one thing he knew. He needed Ella to come to him.

The moment of silence grew to two pulse beats, three, four, more. His nerves and his patience stretched. He forced himself to stand there unmoving, as if he wasn’t strung out.

Then, with what sounded like a muffled oath, Ella launched herself forward. She cannoned into him, soft and curvaceous, warm and delectably feminine. Automatically he grabbed her to him, catching her in a tight hold. Her arms looped over his shoulders, her hands burrowing up through his hair, pulling his head down.

He had a moment to register that fresh-as-a-garden-after-rain scent then their mouths collided and his brain shorted.

So good. She felt even better than he’d expected. And she tasted—

Donato plunged deep into her mouth, forcing her head back, swallowing her sigh of response. Ribbons of heat unfurled through him as he savoured Ella, so delicious, so right. Her soft lips, her demanding tongue, the way she melted into him even as she challenged him to give more. He angled his head, hauling her even closer, lost in a kiss that was so much more than he’d expected, despite his anticipation.

He couldn’t get enough. Her lush body cushioning his instant erection. Her hot, eager mouth that tasted of peach nectar. Her thigh, sliding restlessly against his leg as their tongues tangled and lips fused.

Donato grabbed her thigh and hauled it up, swallowing her gasp of shocked approval. There. He wanted her there. He bent his knees, angling his hips so he rubbed against the softest, most secret part of her.

To his delight Ella’s hands tightened against his scalp, not pushing him away but clutching as if she couldn’t get close enough.

Dimly he wondered what had happened to slow seduction. To years of expertise at pleasing a woman. To caution and taking things one step at a time.

With Ella there were no steps. There was just a headlong plunge into riotous need.

With his other hand he grabbed her backside, lifting her into him, and she purred her approval. That throaty sound incited, inviting more. She nipped his bottom lip and angled her head to taste him better and his head spun.

Yes! He’d known Ella wouldn’t be a shrinking violet. Not the way passion had sparked and simmered in her, a conflagration waiting to be ignited. Yet he hadn’t expected—

Thought died as she rolled her pelvis against him.

Hell! He was shaking all over. If he wasn’t careful he might drop her.

No, he couldn’t drop her. His hands were welded to her. But they might collapse together on the marble floor if his legs gave way. He was pretty sure he could still enjoy Ella, even with a concussion. In fact a concussion would be worth it to experience Ella coming apart around him.

But she might get hurt.

With a desperate effort he dragged his eyelids up. He couldn’t remember shutting his eyes. All he remembered was the sensual assault as she launched herself at him and his body going into meltdown.

Lips still locked with hers, Donato scanned the foyer, instantly discounting the stairs to the upper floor and the bedrooms. They’d never make it that far. At this rate he wasn’t sure they’d make it out of their clothes.

The sideboard. It sat between two doors, a collector’s piece of exquisite workmanship. Perfect.

Lifting Ella against him, he stumbled across the foyer. Her eyes snapped open, the blaze hitting like a punch to the solar plexus.

‘What?’ She tugged her head away and instantly Donato wanted her back, her mouth surrendering to his.

Then she must have felt the solid furniture behind her because understanding flickered in her eyes. Donato lifted her so she sat on the sideboard, then he stepped in, pushing her knees wide.

For the merest of moments there was stillness between them, a waiting awareness, a final chance to break apart. Then Ella’s eyes drifted shut as he lightly touched her breast. It was high and plump enough to fill his hand. Delectable. Just like her shuddering sigh of approval and the way she arched into his touch, eager for more.

Donato smiled grimly. She was so responsive. He wanted to tease and pleasure her, but he wasn’t sure he could manage anything like his usual finesse.

Then Ella’s hand closed over him and his vision blurred, his groin tightening. All the blood in his body rushed south. Need rocked him and dimly he wondered if he’d have time to get free of his trousers before he came.

Instinct took over from thought as their mouths met and fused. She tugged his head down again, as if afraid he might pull back. Donato ravaged her mouth, forgetting all about control in the need to crush her close.

Between them hands scrabbled at clothes, fumbling and tangling.

Ella’s fingers against his erection almost destroyed Donato. He grabbed her hand and planted it against his chest, over his thundering heart. Then he was wrenching at her trousers, hauling down the zip as she wriggled, helping him. His hands were unsteady but soon there was warm silken skin beneath his touch. Seconds later he was free of his own constraining trousers and pulling her to him.

Carajo! Had anything, ever, felt so good?

Donato lifted his head to drag in oxygen, his lungs already overloaded. Her eyes opened and he was lost in the silvery dazzle of her stare.

Then he touched her with one finger, circling, probing, and her eyes slitted to diamond-bright shards, her throat arching back as if her head was too heavy. Ella was soft, warm, wet, shifting restlessly as one finger became two and—

‘Condom.’ The word was a wisp of sound he almost missed. Then Ella straightened, her eyes locking with his. ‘I don’t have one.’ Delicate colour climbed her throat, a contrast to the pure silver of her eyes. ‘I didn’t think...’

Donato was fascinated by the suspicion that Ella was embarrassed, this woman who’d launched herself at him without reservation, so for a moment the implication didn’t hit. When it did he jerked back, stunned.

How had he, of all people, forgotten anything so basic? Such thoughtlessness wasn’t part of his DNA. Not now, not ever.

It was the work of seconds to grab the foil packet from his trouser pocket and rip it open. See? What seemed a lifetime ago he’d had foresight. He just hadn’t been prepared for the cataclysm that was Ella Sanderson in his arms.

There was something unbelievably arousing about holding Ella’s gaze as he sheathed himself. The soft pink rose to streak her fine cheekbones. For a fraction of a second the word endearing flashed into Donato’s brain, before higher thought became impossible and he gave in to primitive instinct.

Hands to her smooth bare hips, he pulled her close then with one sure movement pushed home.

A sound halfway between a sigh and a sob escaped Ella’s reddened lips and he made himself still, though the tight embrace of her slick heat almost made him lose himself.

Had he hurt her? He tried to unlock his jaw to ask but if he moved a muscle he mightn’t be able to hold back from the inevitable.

Then Ella shifted, her legs lifting over his hips, locking around his waist, making him sink deeper into beckoning warmth. She clung to his shoulders and suddenly there was nothing stopping him. That was invitation in her eyes, not pain. And the feel of her moving against him...

Donato succumbed, taking her fast and hard, revelling in her beautiful body that accepted him so eagerly. Each tilt of her pelvis, each softly indrawn breath was an incitement to pleasure. He couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t manage finesse. There was nothing but the compulsion to make her his in the most primitive, satisfying way possible.

The world was already blurring when Donato felt the ripples of her arousal quicken around him. The sensation was too much and he braced one arm on the wall behind her, bucking high and hard with a desperation that was more animal than civilised man.

He needed her, and this exquisite pleasure.

‘Ella!’ Her name was a husky roar, surprising him as it emerged from his mouth.

Her body stiffened then jerked around him. Her eyes sprang wide open and he fell into pools of burnished moonlight.

There was a flash of heat, a surge of energy and he spilled himself, collapsing into her as the world exploded. Chest and shoulders heaving, head bowed against her fragrant neck, Donato experienced pure rapture as Ella clutched him close.

He’d expected passion and pleasure. But nothing like this. When had he ever called out a lover’s name like that? When had he ever forgotten protection?

Donato gathered her in, relishing her soft womanly body, so lax in his arms.

* * *

The world had contracted to the living pulse beating through her, through him, filling the air around them and the darkness behind her closed lids. Ella wasn’t sure she was still alive after that cataclysmic orgasm.

Had it ever been like that before?

Of course it hadn’t. If it had she’d never have let her love life sink without a trace.

Donato moved, pulling gently away, murmuring something she couldn’t hear over her rocketing pulse and harsh breathing. Soon she’d open her eyes but for now she slumped back against the wall that at this moment felt as comfortable as any feather bed.

Her bones had melted. She wasn’t sure she could move her legs. But it didn’t matter. She never wanted to move again. She felt blissfully, utterly wonderful.

She felt... Words faded in the afterglow of rapture.

Finally, the awkward angle of her head against the wall and the hard surface beneath her penetrated her dazed brain. She should move. She had...surely there was something she had to do?

Gingerly Ella sat up, hands braced on the seat beneath her, only to find it wasn’t a seat. It was hard and bumpy. With a huge effort she pried open heavy eyelids and looked down. She was sitting on a carving of a chariot. It was pulled by horses with wide nostrils and, as she shifted, she saw a couple of naked men, maybe gods, riding behind.

Ella blinked, her hands stroking the satiny polished wood beyond the carved plaque. Her gaze strayed to the delicate, obviously hand-carved garlands of fruit and flowers that grew fancifully out of the top of the sideboard to trail decoratively down the front.

Her throat closed. If she wasn’t mistaken she’d just had mind-blowing sex on top of a piece of furniture worth more than she earned in a year. A museum piece that some collector had no doubt lovingly restored.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the brilliantly polished wood. Her eyes closed.

Forget the furniture, Ella. How about the fact you had wild sex with a stranger? A man you’ve known less than a day? And you barely made it past his front door?

She swallowed hard, her throat constricting as her body hummed with the resonance of the climax they’d shared.

Who was this woman and what had she done with Ella Sanderson?

A footstep sounded and her eyes popped open. Relief made her sag, her hand to her racing heart. ‘It’s you.’

‘You were expecting someone else?’ Donato looked as debonair and dangerous as ever. More so, with his thick black hair deliciously rumpled. A shiver spread out from her womb and she kept her eyes off his face, not ready to meet that intense scrutiny.

He was fully clothed. Ella tugged her long top lower. But that voice in her head drawled that it was too late for modesty. That didn’t stop the blood rushing to her face as she registered her bare legs and the fact she still wore her shoes. Her pants lay in a heap a few steps away.

She swallowed, reminding herself that embarrassment couldn’t kill her. It never had in all those years facing her father’s superior friends. Even this, the pinnacle of mortification, would pass.

‘I wondered if you have staff.’

‘Not today. I gave them the day off.’ He paced closer and her head jerked up. The gleam in his eyes was pure carnal invitation, as was the half smile flirting at the corners of his mouth. Heat blasted her, turning the marrow in her bones molten.

How could she feel so needy again? Surely it had only been minutes since they’d— Ella slammed a door on that train of thought.

He was before her now, his palms resting lightly on her bare thighs. His hands were broad, hard with calluses, and the feel of them on her skin made her pulse skitter. She remembered him touching her intimately and the breath sighed out of her lungs.

Then his words penetrated.

‘You gave them the day off? Why? Because you were so sure we’d...’ Ella swallowed hard. ‘So sure of me?’

His expression was still, giving nothing away, except for that banked heat.

‘I was sure that, whatever happened, I wanted complete privacy. No distractions.’

She angled her jaw. ‘In case I ravished you before I even got past the foyer?’ Her bravado hid a world of discomfort. She wanted to scurry away and hide, not brazen out her inexplicable behaviour. She’d acted like a tart instead of her cautious, reserved self.

‘I’ve discovered I adore being ravished in the foyer.’ His fingers touched her chin, tilting it towards him. ‘And it was a mutual ravishment, Ella.’

Did he say that to make her feel better? It didn’t.

She’d known from the first that he was Trouble with a capital T. She just hadn’t reckoned on her own body betraying her. In twenty-six years it had never done so before. Sex, in her admittedly limited experience, had been carefully planned, horizontal and...nice. Not a blaze of out-of-control libidos.

Something flared in Donato’s eyes and she just knew he was thinking about it too. Sex. The scent of it hung in the air and, despite her lassitude mere minutes ago, Ella’s body was ripe and ready for him again.

She shifted back on the sideboard, yanking her chin from his touch.

‘I need to get dressed.’

For an answer his hand slid slowly up her thigh, creating waves of tingling pleasure. ‘No need for that. Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.’ His eyes had that heavy-lidded look that made her pulse race. His voice had dropped to a low burr of temptation.

Insidious longing filled Ella and she slapped her hand on his to stop him reaching up under her top. She didn’t trust herself to resist if he touched her there.

‘No!’ She breathed deep. ‘I want to get dressed.’

His fingers splayed wide on her thighs, curling around them, sending awareness rippling through her. The tension in her belly notched higher.

‘This isn’t over, Ella.’ His head lowered towards hers, his breath hazing her lips. ‘Don’t pretend it is.’

Was that a threat or a promise? It stiffened her spine, giving her the strength to shove him back with the flat of her hand. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t move, then his fingers trailed down her thighs and away as he took a pace back.

Ella shimmied to the edge of the sideboard and onto the floor. Her knees wobbled for a perilous moment but she forced herself to stand tall. Just as if she paraded half naked before men on a regular basis.

‘Don’t hide from the truth, Ella. Amazing as it was, that barely touched the surface, for either of us.’ His swift, all-encompassing survey left her blood singing.

Looking him in the face was far harder than facing her stressed manager in a foul mood, or her father in full flight. ‘I’d prefer to have this conversation with my clothes on. You have the advantage over me there.’

The slow curve of his lips did devastating things to her and the devilish glint in his eyes was even worse. She sank back against the sideboard, needing support.

‘You want me naked?’ His hand went to the top button of his shirt and Ella swallowed hard. Of course she wanted him naked. He was right. She hadn’t had nearly enough of him.

‘I want my clothes.’ Her voice was too strident but it was the best she could do. Dragging her gaze from his to the discarded heap of fabric on the floor, she moved forward.

‘If you must.’ Before she could get there Donato had scooped up not only her trousers, but her cotton undies too. They dangled from his fingers—plain and ordinary, just like her. She’d challenged herself this morning not to dig out her sexy lace knickers and bra, bought on a whim and worn once. To do so would have been an admission that she fancied him. That she wanted him to think of her as alluring. Well, the laugh was on her. Instead of black lace, he had his hands on beige cotton.

Ella met his eyes and refused to blush. She held out her hand.

‘They’re still warm from your body.’ Just like that he cut her off at the knees, swiping away the last tatters of her hard-won dignity. He sounded pleased. He didn’t sound like a man taking no for an answer.

She grabbed them from him and, following the direction he gestured, strode across the marble floor to the sanctuary of a bathroom.

* * *

Donato watched her stride across to the cloakroom, enjoying every step. He shifted, erect just at the sight of those beautiful long legs and the tantalising glimpses of her pale bare backside as her long top swayed from side to side. Her head was up and her shoulders back as if she owned the world. Such a contrast to the blushing woman who’d found it hard to meet his eyes a minute before.

Ella Sanderson was a conundrum. She was the hottest woman he’d ever had. Just talking to her turned him on. And she was so passionate. Yet there was a reserve about her, and there’d been no mistaking the shock in her eyes at what they’d done.

He ploughed his hand back through his hair. He was shocked too. Not because they’d had sex. That had been inevitable. But that it had been so earth-shattering. And that it left him needy, desperate to have her again.

There was something else about Ella too. A hint of vulnerability despite her sassy mouth. In fact that mouth of hers deserved close study over a long period. It gave her away, he realised. Any man could see it was the mouth of a temptress. But it trembled just a little when she was unsure of herself. And she had been unsure.

More than once that suggestion of a tremor had made him stop and rethink. He’d bet Ella would hate that, if she knew.

She challenged him more effectively than anyone he knew. He loved sparring with her, waiting to see what she came out with. She was a delight. That moment when she’d stood there, half naked, gnawing her lip and patently regretting what they’d done, Ella had still had the sass to imply she’d been the sexual aggressor.

As if he hadn’t been the one forcing her to confront her own desire!

Donato’s lips quirked. Had she worn that ugly underwear to keep him at bay? He found himself curious to see what her bra was like. She had a voluptuous body, no matter how she tried to hide it with that shapeless top. Her rounded hips were made to entice a man. She was slim and lithe but she had the sort of curves that made a man glad he was male. He looked forward to having her naked in his bed.

There was a click and the door opened. She stepped out, fully dressed and in control. The wanton woman hidden beneath her shapeless top; even her hair was yanked back in a ponytail. But the skylight above allowed diffused sunlight to catch the tones of honey and caramel in her soft brown hair. Her chin was up, ready for confrontation, and Donato stepped forward, his pulse quickening.

This time she met his gaze head-on. Instantly he felt that crackle, as electricity splintered the air.

It took him a moment to realise her eyes were once more that intriguing shade of blue-grey. For a few moments, when she’d shattered around him, her eyes had been pure molten silver.

Donato began calculating how long it would be before he saw that precious shimmer again.