Читать книгу Blackmailed Into His Arms: Blackmailed into Bed / The Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain / Blackmailed For Her Baby - Маргарет Майо, Elizabeth Power - Страница 11

Elena raised the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. It had been a long day, and she was suddenly feeling every minute of it. The two Manhattans she’d sipped through dinner probably hadn’t helped, either.

“Sleepy?” Chase asked, brushing a loose tendril of hair away from her face.

She offered a small smile and leaned into his touch as the same elevator that had taken them down to the lobby a few hours before now took them back up to their floor.

It was amazing how comfortable she felt with him after such a short time, and it worried her. She’d expected their relationship to be cold, businesslike. Intimate, but functional.

Instead, things between them had been warm and friendly. She liked it, and that bothered her most—that she liked it maybe a bit too much.

“I’m a little tired,” she answered.

His hand slid from the lobe of her ear to the nape of her neck, where he gently kneaded the taut muscles with his calloused fingertips.

“You must have had a busy day.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to find out how she’d spent the afternoon. But so far, she’d avoided giving him a straight answer. It wasn’t that her activities were that much of a secret, just that she didn’t feel like sharing.

He’d handed her a wad of cash and a credit card, and basically told her to keep herself occupied while he worked. Well, she had—without spending more than twenty-five or thirty dollars of his money, either. Since she hadn’t let him foot the bill for more than a short cab ride and a salad for lunch, it was no one’s business but her own how she’d stayed busy.

When it became apparent she wasn’t going to answer, he went on.

“When we get back to the room, I’ll help you slip out of these clothes, then turn down the covers and we’ll crawl into bed.”

“Just to sleep?” she teased.

“Just to sleep,” he assured her. And then his lips curved and a devilish glint sparkled in his blue eyes. “Unless you’re interested in something else.”

A slow heat began to unfurl low in her belly. That was another thing she found surprising about this situation … that making love with him didn’t feel like a chore she had to subject herself to in order to help her father save his company. She liked being with him, and was already looking forward to spending the night in his arms. Just the thought made warmth pour through her system and put her nerve endings on red alert.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into the hallway, any drowsiness quickly morphing into arousal and anticipation.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, his arm twined with hers as they strolled slowly toward their suite. “We didn’t have dessert with dinner so maybe we should order something sweet from room service.”

They stopped in front of their door and he fitted the key card into the lock, waiting for the light to flash green.

“Strawberries and champagne?” he suggested, holding the door open for her. “I could nibble juice from your chin and trickle champagne into your navel. Or hot fudge sundaes. I understand chocolate sauce tastes even better licked off a beautiful woman’s naked flesh.”

If she hadn’t been turned on before, the mental images he was creating certainly aroused her. She shivered as she thought of his tongue scraping along her skin, of chocolate and ice cream mixing with passion in her mouth as he kissed her after cleaning them from her body.

“So what will it be?” he asked when she was halfway across the room. “Dessert or straight to bed?”

His voice sounded farther away than she’d expected, and she turned to find him leaning against the wall, just a few steps past the closed and locked door. His arms were crossed over his chest, one leg cocked over the other at the ankle.

One glimpse of him standing there, looking so casually relaxed yet so intensely masculine, and she knew there was no way she’d be sleeping tonight. At least not anytime soon.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun with him first.

“I’d like to go straight to bed,” she said, feigning a yawn that a few minutes ago would have been real. Reaching up to remove the pins from her hair, she watched the air of confidence seep from his expression, the cockiness disappear from the firm set of his stance. His reaction amused her, but she didn’t tease him for long.

Shaking her head and letting the long strands of her hair fall to the middle of her back, she added, “With the strawberries, champagne and a hot fudge sundae. With nuts on top, please.”

She turned on her heel and sashayed toward the bedroom, but not before she saw the wide, positively predatory grin that spread across his face. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d pushed away from the wall and sprung on her like some sleek jungle beast. A part of her even wished he’d do just that.

They would fall to the floor right where she was standing in a tangle of limbs, his heavy frame pinning her down. Clothes would be torn off, tossed away or left in tatters. Mouths and hands would be everywhere. They would come together fast, hot, frantically, the carpet leaving them scraped and raw.

And it would all be worth it.

She almost whimpered at the very idea, moist heat pooling between her legs, making her weak in the knees. She bit her lip, wondering what she might do to make it happen.

But in the end, she couldn’t think of anything that felt right. She wasn’t used to seducing handsome men, let alone devising a plan to get one to attack her.

So she settled for simply lifting her hands to the back of her neck and unhooking the single strap of her dress. The two pieces of material fell, an arm across her breasts the only thing keeping her from being completely bare.

“You will bring everything into the bedroom when it gets here, won’t you?” she asked as seductively as she could manage. Then, without waiting for an answer, she stepped into the other room and closed the door behind her.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She’d never done anything like that before—taunted a man, tried to work him into a lather and lure him into bed.

And now she would have to deliver. At the speed of light, she raced around the room, undressing. She kicked her shoes off so they each flew in different directions. Her dress fell to the floor and she opened the closet door to kick it inside. It was no way to treat an obscenely expensive designer gown, but at the moment she couldn’t care less.

Hopping from foot to foot, she made her way to the bathroom while working to undo her garter belt and roll off her black stockings. She left them in a ball on the floor, along with her matching black panties.

Naked, she stood at the sink, in front of the huge wall-to-wall mirror, and quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face, ran a comb through her hair. She reapplied a dab of perfume behind each ear and at the pulse points of her wrists, then hurried back to the bed.

Sweeping back the covers, she leaped onto the ivory satin sheets, plumped a couple pillows behind her back and tried to adopt a sexy, alluring pose. Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, Anna Nicole Smith … she thought of every pinup girl she could remember and tried to channel their spirits.

She pulled the sheet up to her waist, then over her breasts, then threw it off again. Bent her legs to the left, then the right. Threw an arm over her head, then scooted down and laid spread-eagle across the bed like the smorgasbord she hoped he would use her as.

When she heard the rattle of the doorknob, she startled, swallowed a panicked squeak and froze in the best position she could come up with at the last minute. She let the muscles in her face go lax and half-closed her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice she was a nervous wreck. She wanted him to think she’d just been lounging on the bed, waiting for him to serve her.

The bedroom door opened and he strolled in, dragging a room service cart behind him. This time it held a bowl of strawberries, a magnum of champagne on ice, two glasses and a very large, decadent, already melting ice cream sundae.

Normally, her stomach would have rumbled at such delicious-looking fare. But at the moment, it was her other four senses and her raging libido that were starving for attention.

Chase turned, his gaze soaking her in, slowly skimming from head to toe. From the hardening of his jaw and the steam rising behind his sea-blue eyes, she thought he must like what he saw.

A thrill rolled through her and she sat up straight, careful to act sleepy and nonchalant.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “It looks good.”

“Yes,” he said slowly, still staring intently at her. “It does.”

After a few tense seconds when she thought he might forget the food altogether and simply lunge at her, he picked up the bottle of Roederer Cristal, dried the bottom with a cloth napkin and popped the cork. He poured the champagne into both flutes, then handed one to her, followed by the bowl of strawberries.

She took a plump, bright red berry and bit into the tip before taking a sip of champagne.

“Good?” he asked, sampling a piece of fruit on his own.

“Delicious.”

Taking a long swallow of champagne, he set his glass and the bowl of strawberries aside and began shrugging out of his clothes. Suit jacket, tie, shoes … they all evaporated as though they were made of smoke.

As naked as she, he turned back to the wheeled cart, grabbed the dripping sundae and a spoon and climbed onto the wide mattress beside her.

“This is what I’m hungry for,” he said.

He lowered her gently until she fell back against the pillows. Before she’d even had a chance to get comfortable or wonder what he might do next, he dropped a dollop of whipped cream right in the center of her belly button.

She gave a little yelp and nearly came up off the bed, her first instinct to get the chilly substance off her bare skin. But the clicking of his tongue and the shimmering heat in his glance reminded her of the game they were playing.

Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her body and sank farther into the pillows and glossy sheets, ready to let him do what he wished with his sweet, sticky dessert and her naked, vulnerable body.

He grinned, flashing straight white teeth at her capitulation and digging once again into the sundae.

It took all of her control, all of her concentration not to squirm and shiver as he decorated her nipples, left dribbles of hot fudge sauce along her chest, midsection and inner thighs. Plucking the bright red maraschino cherry off the top by its stem, he placed it on top of the whipped cream on her navel.

“There,” he announced, setting the remainder of the sundae on the nightstand and sitting back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

She chuckled, a brittle, throaty sound working its way up from her diaphragm. A trickle of vanilla ice cream was melting between her tightly closed legs, heading in a direction where she wanted only warmth—preferably created by Chase. “It’s cold.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, shifting closer. “Let me see what I can do to heat things up.”

His low tone and the determined look in his eyes sent a ripple of anticipation skating down her spine, taking precedence over the goose bumps breaking out along her skin.

He leaned in, covering a smear of chocolate with his tongue, then dragging upward to the underside of her breast. The action caused her nipples to bead beneath the fluffy white clouds he’d deposited there.

She writhed beneath him, her back arching, her arms lifting automatically to reach for him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he warned without moving his lips from her skin. The words vibrated through her. “No touching from you. Not yet.”

His hands closed around her wrists, pushing her arms up over her head. “Lie back and enjoy.”

Easier said than done, she thought. At the moment, his idea of enjoyment bordered on torment—and he was just getting started.

He licked the whipped cream crowning one breast, tiny flickers like a cat lapping at a bowl of milk, until her nipple was bare.

Elena bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying out as he switched to her other breast. This time he gave a low growl and engulfed the tip all at once. No small nibbles to draw out the agony, but that didn’t make the pleasure any less sharp.

Her hands clutched the pillow behind her head, her heels dug into the mattress. Already, her inner muscles were tightening, begging for release. “Chase, please.”

“Soon,” he whispered, kissing his way back down her stomach, picking up stray hot fudge as he went. “Very soon.”

He slurped the whipped topping from her belly button, working around the cherry, leaving it to fill the indent of her navel. Sliding down, hands skimming her hips, he parted her thighs and began to nuzzle ice cream from between them.

But he didn’t stop there. Even though she was sure the ice cream hadn’t dripped any deeper, he lifted her legs to his shoulders and began to explore. He nibbled, licked, stroked her moist folds until she couldn’t help but clutch at his hair—to pull him away or hold him close, she didn’t know.

When he concentrated his efforts on the hidden bud of her desire, her blood pressure skyrocketed and she climaxed against his mouth almost without warning. Tremors racked her body and she gasped for breath, arms falling to her sides as her bones and muscles turned the consistency of watery oatmeal.

With a feral grin, Chase raised his head and lifted himself on all fours to hover over her. He started to crawl forward, pausing only long enough to close his teeth on the stem of the cherry in her navel and carry it with him to her mouth. Her lips were already parted, her lungs still straining for oxygen.

“No. No more,” she panted, letting her eyes fall closed. “I can’t take any more.”

“Sure you can.” His words were slightly muted as he talked through his teeth, still holding the cherry by its stem. “Open.”

With a sigh that was part exhaustion, part reluctant anticipation, she opened her mouth and let him drop the cherry inside.

“Now close.”

She did, and he tugged, breaking the stem away from the plump, sweet fruit.

“Chew,” he ordered.

Maraschino cherries were one of her favorites and she gave a little moan of enjoyment as the tart juices played over her taste buds and ran down her throat.

In a much softer, huskier voice, Chase said, “Now open again.”

When she did, he meshed his mouth with hers, kissing her deeply, passionately, thoroughly. To her great surprise she found her strength coming back and her arms snaking up to wrap around his shoulders.

He pulled back slightly, his lips curled up at the corners as he hummed with pleasure. “That is the best hot fudge sundae I’ve ever tasted. I never want to eat one with just a spoon again.”

Elena gave a shuddery chuckle. She didn’t know if she could live through another session like that, but she was absolutely sure she would never see sundaes in quite the same way. She would never be able to look at one without remembering this night and the wicked things Chase Ramsey could do with a bit of whipped cream, chocolate sauce and his tongue.

Oh, that tongue!

“But we aren’t finished yet,” he said.

Scraping his teeth along her jaw and biting her earlobe, he reached into the nightstand drawer for a condom. He tore open the packet and sheathed himself, all without taking his focus from her neck and shoulder. Settling more fully into the cradle of her thighs, he found her feminine opening and sank inside in one long, sleek movement.

She was already wet and more than ready for his entry. Only moments ago, she’d thought herself ruined for ever again experiencing an ounce of pleasure. But she’d underestimated the power of Chase’s mode of persuasion.

He was ruthless, taking no prisoners. There was no slow buildup this time around, no teasing or tantalizing. He filled her to overflowing and began to pound into her like a piston.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her buttocks, pulling her closer to meet him on each thrust.

Harder, faster, he drove the air from her lungs, his own breaths coming rapidly. She tightened her legs around his waist, her nails raking his sweat-slick back.

“Chase,” she moaned.

“Elena,” he groaned in return before burying his face in the curve of her neck and biting gently on the taut line of muscle that ran across to her shoulder.

The orgasm, when it came, rocked her, made the room feel like it was spinning around them and spilled through her like a tidal wave. She gasped … then stopped breathing altogether. Above her, Chase gave one deep, final thrust and shouted with completion.

A second later, he collapsed, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Instead of being uncomfortable, she smiled at the boneless, total relaxation taking over his body. She could feel his heart racing in his chest, in tandem with her own, his breath stirring her hair.

Sooner than she’d have liked, he groaned and rolled away. He lay flat on his back, arms and legs spread wide, while he continued to breathe heavily.

“You’ll be the death of me, Elena,” he said with a heartfelt sigh, rolling his head to the side so he could look at her. He grinned. “But I’ll die a happy man.”

Before she could respond, he pushed up from the bed and walked stark naked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Suddenly conscious of her blatant nudity and the fact that she was sprawled like a rag doll in a less-than-attractive position, she hopped up and hurried to the dresser for a nightgown.

Slipping it on, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were rosy, the rest of her skin aglow. Her lips looked puffy, reminding her of that old term, “bee-stung.”

She’d never had bee-stung lips before. But then, she’d never been kissed quite as senseless, quite as passionately before, either.

Since her hair was a tousled mess, she ran her fingers through to untangle the long strands, turning just as the bathroom door opened. Chase stood there, still blessedly naked, his hands braced on either side of the doorjamb. Just the sight of him made her pulse pick up and the slippery fabric of the nightie feel rough against her bare skin.

“You didn’t have to get dressed on my account,” he quipped.

She smiled somewhat nervously, curling her painted toes into the soft, thick carpeting. “I’m not used to lying around in the altogether.”

“Too bad,” he said, striding forward and stopping directly in front of her. Using the knuckle of his index finger, he tipped her head up until she had no choice but to meet his crystal blue eyes. “That’s something I’d pay money to see. Besides, we weren’t entirely finished with our dessert. We still have champagne and quite a few strawberries to get through.”

“Well …” she said slowly, butterflies flapping sensuously in her belly, her courage growing in direct proportion to the longing heating up his gaze. Hooking her thumbs under the thin spaghetti straps at her shoulders, she slowly began to peel them down her arms. “It’s just a teeny, tiny scrap of satin. You could get it off again in no time, if you really wanted to.”

Desire flashed across his face, followed by the wicked lift of one dark brow. “Really?”

He replaced her thumbs with his own fingers and finished the job of sliding the top of the nightgown down, uncovering her chest, then her breasts and ribcage. As soon as the straps were free of her arms, he released them, letting the garment drop to the floor where it pooled around her feet.

“Well, will you look at that,” he murmured in mock astonishment. “You’re naked again. Just the way I like you.”

She squealed in surprise when he wrapped his hands around her waist and bent slightly to lift her onto one shoulder.

“Chase! What are you doing?”

“Turning caveman,” he responded without apology.

Stalking to the bed, he flipped her over and dropped her unceremoniously in the middle of the king-size mattress. She bounced on the tight springs and giggled as she couldn’t remember doing since she was a little girl.

Taking two steps to the side, Chase grabbed the bottle of Cristal by its long neck and then hopped on top of her, pinning her in place.

“This time,” he said, his tone leaving no question of his intent, “I want to see how champagne tastes when I sip it from your belly button.”

“All right,” she agreed, stretching out, ready to once again be a part of this man’s dessert. “As long as I can do the same to you.”