Читать книгу Innocent In The Billionaire's Bed - Clare Connelly - Страница 3

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Rio’s hands lifted to Tilly’s shoulders. His expression was dark.

Without make-up, her skin glowing from the shower, her hair pulled up into another messy bun, and with a tiny towel barely covering her, she was the most desirable woman he had ever seen. Rio glided his hands over her upper arms, but he wanted more. His hand moved to the back of her towel, pushing her towards him. She connected with his body—by design this time. She was soft and small, her curves fitting perfectly to him, as though they’d been designed for one another.

Her lashes were too dark—feathered fans against her flushed cheeks. And the small moan she made sent his pulse into overdrive. Would she moan when they made love? Would her pillowy lips part, breathing those sweet sounds into the air?

His need was a tsunami inside him, crashing inexorably towards land. She was the shore, she was the anchor, and he was powerless to fight the pull of her tide. Rio had never considered himself powerless before. But he didn’t care.

He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her cheek and sweeping the ball of his thumb over her lower lip. Her eyes flew open, pinning him with the same tsunami of need that was ravaging his defences.

‘We shouldn’t do this,’ she said quietly, but her hips pushed forward, moving from side to side in ancient silent invitation.

His fingers plaited through her hair, pulling it from the bun, running through the ends. ‘We shouldn’t,’ he agreed darkly.

Innocent In The Billionaire's Bed

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