Читать книгу Hot Nights with the...Australian - Nicola Marsh - Страница 15

LUTHER curled up on her lap and went to sleep, probably a normal reaction to frantic activity and shock. Chloe hoped so. He was only a baby and slept a lot in the normal course of events. She kept stroking him lightly, wanting to soothe away any lingering trauma. Such a brave little dog, and his wild yapping had brought Max to her when she’d desperately needed some strong intervention.

Max, in his brief black swimming costume, looking like a Greek god with all his physical power on display—her saviour once again. She hadn’t cared that he was almost naked. It hadn’t worried her one bit having her body hugged against his. If she was honest with herself, she’d revelled in his muscular support and was savagely glad he’d hit Tony and hauled him away. If they were living in some primitive society, she would certainly want Max as her mate. In fact, she would be happy to share a cave with him in every sense.

But their lives weren’t so simple. Hers, particularly, was complicated with a whole lot of issues, and she shouldn’t keep leaning on Max to fix everything for her. Apart from which, he was currently attached to another woman, and she shouldn’t be forgetting that relationship, either. Although she was feeling more and more connected to him on many levels, and the plain truth was she wanted him to want her, regardless of every other issue.

Was that weak and stupid?

She didn’t know, didn’t have time to sort it out. Max strode back into the children’s house, filling it with his powerful presence, and her mind went to mush. He was a marvellous man—a dangerous, ruthless, infinitely desirable man—and she wanted to fling herself at him again, feel his arms around her, crushing her body against his, feel everything he could make her feel.

Did he see that wild, wanton desire in her eyes? For one heart-stopping moment, he paused, his dark riveting gaze holding hers, questioning, probing with an intensity that trapped the breath in her throat. Then he looked down at the little dog in her lap and moved forward, crouching down beside her.

‘He seems to be breathing normally.’

Which was more than she could say for herself. Her lungs relaxed back into action and she managed to speak normally. ‘He whimpered for a while, but I couldn’t feel anything broken.’

‘I think Tony’s foot went more under Luther’s belly than connecting with his ribs, but if you’d like me to call a vet …’

She shook her head. ‘I’ll wait until he wakes up, see how he is then.’

‘Where’s his sleeping basket?’

‘In the corner next to the doll house. He likes it there.’

‘Don’t get up. I’ll fetch it and you can gently transfer him.’

Luther barely stirred as she lifted him into the basket, only opening his eyes to check all was as it should be then closing them again. Max carried the basket back to the corner as Chloe pushed up from the floor. Acutely conscious of her own nakedness underneath the silk kimono, she re-adjusted it to maximum modesty as Max moved the rocker Tony had occupied back to its correct position and closed the front door, scanning the room to see if anything else had been changed.

‘Are you going to feel nervous staying here now, Chloe?’ he asked with a look of sharp concern.

‘No. I’m sure Tony won’t come back.’ She grimaced. ‘It was my fault he got in. I forgot to lock the door before lying down for a nap.’

‘It was not your fault,’ he retorted vehemently. ‘Tony had no right to do what he did.’

‘I know. I know. I just meant …’ She gestured apologetically. ‘I was careless, Max. I’m sorry you had to come and rescue me again.’

‘The fault is not yours,’ he repeated, shaking his head as he walked over to her. ‘You’ve been a victim for a long time, Chloe. You have to stop that kind of thinking and take a clear look at where you are and why.’

His hands curled around her shoulders, fingers gently kneading her tense muscles. His eyes blazed with a dark fire that seemed to sear her soul. ‘You said you wanted to be with me,’ he reminded her. ‘Was that because I saved you or …?’

She didn’t consciously lift her hands to his bare chest. They seemed to have been drawn there and she didn’t want to pull them away from the warmth and strength of his intense masculinity. She wanted to go on touching him, feeling him, although she was quivering inside at her own boldness in making this physical contact with him. The look in his eyes was tugging at her, too, demanding a response with almost mesmerising power. Some part of her mind knew he wouldn’t take unless she was willing to give, yet another part wanted him to take, removing all responsibility from her.

The weak part.

The victim part.

And with that awful recognition came a sudden surge of rebellious determination to be more assertive where her own wishes were concerned. ‘It’s not just gratitude I feel for you,’ she said. ‘And I don’t want it to be just a protective thing you feel for me,’ she added recklessly. ‘I want …’

She couldn’t bring herself to voice it out loud—all the wildly tumbling desires creating havoc inside her.

‘This, Chloe?’ he murmured, his eyes glittering knowingly as he slid one hand up her throat, his thumb tilting her chin up, his fingers stroking her cheek.

Her lips parted but not to speak, to draw in breath because she desperately needed it.

‘This?’ he repeated, his head bending towards hers.

Yes, yes, careened around her mind.

His lips brushed hers, raising a host of electric tingles, which were quickly soothed into softer, more seductive sensations as he moved into tasting them, tugging lightly on the sensitive inner tissues, sliding his tongue over them—a gentle, mesmerising kissing that held Chloe totally captivated, craving more.

Her hands slid up over his shoulders, around his neck, fingers eagerly thrusting into his hair, clasping his head to keep it lowered to hers, blindly encouraging a deeper intimacy to feed the hungry desire racing through her veins, arousing needs that had never really been answered.

Almost instantly a strong arm encircled her waist, scooping her into full body contact with him, her breasts exulting in the hot pressure of his wonderfully masculine chest, her thighs revelling in the rocklike support of his, her stomach contracting excitedly at being furrowed by his sexual arousal, her mind lost in a tumultuous sea of elation at knowing that her own wanting was returned in full measure.

And his kiss was much deeper now, a marauding exploration of her mouth that incited her into invading his, their tongues tangling with a passionate intensity that shot wild excitement through her entire body. She couldn’t get enough of him. A moan of gut-wrenching need dragged from her throat when his mouth broke from hers to draw in breath.

‘Chloe …’ It was a gasp, a groan, a sound he blew into her ear, making it tingle with an explosion of sensation.

She buried her face into the curve of his shoulder and neck, her lips grazing over his skin, tasting him, finding the pulse at the base of his throat, instinctively sucking on it, wanting his heart beating for her. His head jerked back. His hands clutched her bottom, squeezing her flesh closer to his, and just as she wished there was nothing preventing skin-to-skin contact, he growled and jackknifed forward, scooping her off her feet, whirling her up and into the bedroom, his chest heaving, his breathing harsh.

He stood her beside the bed, tugged the tie-belt of her kimono apart and slid the silk gown off her shoulders, following the glide of the fabric with his mouth, kissing the bared skin, making her shiver with delicious anticipation for what he might do to her when she was fully naked. As his hands drew the sleeves down her arms, his lips trailed a hot steamy path to her breasts, his tongue swirling around each stiffened peak, making them bullet-hard, shooting an arc of sweetly aching sensation to below her stomach.

She was barely conscious of the robe dropping to the floor, pooling around her feet. Her entire body was focused on what he was making her feel. Then his arms were around her, crushing her wet breasts to his chest, and one of his hands was thrusting up the curve of her spine to the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair. She lifted her face to his and his mouth crashed onto hers with swift devouring force, instantly inciting a passionate response.

Her arms wrapped themselves around his waist, hugging him tightly. The frenzied kissing stirred an intense frustration that he was not as naked as she was. Her hands dived down to hook her thumbs under the hip band of his swimming costume and drag them over the taut cheeks of his buttocks. She had to wrench her mouth from his to finish the task of peeling off this last barrier between them. Dropping into a crouch to pull the costume down his muscular thighs, she goggled at the size of his erection, fascinated by how much bigger it was than Tony’s. Everything about Max was so different, so powerful, so incredibly exciting.

He lifted his feet for her to whip this last piece of clothing away. His hands were tangled in her hair, wanting to tug her upright again, but Chloe paused, drawn to do what Tony had always expected of her although with Max she really wanted to, swirling her tongue around the swollen head of his penis, encircling it with her lips, drawing it slowly into her mouth, savouring the tight, velvety skin.

‘No, don’t!’ Max cried out, bending to grab her arms and haul her up to face him, his eyes glittering with agonised need.

Confused by his rejection of the intimacy, Chloe gabbled out, ‘I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it. Tony …’

‘I’m not Tony!’ he said savagely. ‘I don’t want to be serviced by you, Chloe. I want you. And I’m so on fire for you, if I let you keep doing that … yes, I like it but not now. Not when I want all of you first.’

Again he crushed her to him, moving to the bed, kneeling over her as he lowered her onto it, passionate purpose blazing from his eyes. ‘I want to feel all of you, taste all of you, know all of you, watch your face as we come together.’

Her mind reeled at the intensity of his desire for her. She felt it resonating through her in the ravaging depth of his kiss, in the way he set her on fire when he sucked on her breasts, her back arching to the intoxicating heat of his mouth, her flesh burning under his mouth as he moved it slowly, erotically, down her body, her stomach tightening with almost painful tension when he reached the apex of her thighs, parting her legs, stroking the soft hidden folds of her sex, kissing her there, licking her most sensitive place with delicate flicks of his tongue, an exquisite torture that she could hardly bear but didn’t want stopped.

She lay with her hands clenched at her sides, trying to hold on, feeling her insides quivering towards some cataclysmic meltdown. Her eyes were closed, every ounce of concentration focused on what was happening to her. She forgot to breathe until her chest grew so tight it threatened to burst and she sucked in quick little gusts of air. It had never been like this for her, never, never, never … so incredible, so agonisingly blissful.

She felt the last threads of her control starting to snap, tension breaking up, trembling on the edge of chaos, and her hands uncurled and flew into his hair, fingers scrabbling, pulling, wildly insistent words pouring from her mouth. ‘Stop … please … you must … I need you to come into me now … now …’ His strength filling her before she fell apart … his power making everything right …

He surged up, plucking her hands from his hair, slamming them into the pillow on either side of her head. ‘Look at me, Chloe!’ he commanded.

Her body was frantically poised for more direct action, her head threshing around in mindless need, but her eyes did snap open and she tried to focus on the face looming over hers—a harshly strained face, a darkly handsome face, with brilliant black eyes blazing down at her, demanding something from her, she didn’t know what, couldn’t think, but his name spilled from her lips in a husky cry of need.

‘Max …’

‘Yes …’ It sounded like a rasp of satisfaction, then another command. ‘Wrap your legs around me, Chloe. Take me as I take you.’

Her legs felt weak and shaky. Max released her hands and helped her, lifting her knees, and then it was easy, her ankles hooking together.

Holding him, having him encircled by her legs, actively offering the other more intimate encirclement … it felt wickedly wonderful, and she was dying to take him, all of him.

‘Keep your eyes open,’ he insisted.

She stared up at him, willing him to go on, desperate for him to give himself to her. A gasp fell from her lips as she felt his hard flesh push slowly into her slippery softness. Her inner muscles started convulsing, urgently wanting him deeper. Her heart was going crazy, heat racing through her veins, her face aglow with it, her whole body simmering, seething towards some unimaginable flash-point.

He went deeper. Her chest tightened up. She panted for breath. Her head felt as though it was splitting apart. Her eyes glazed over, losing their focus. And still he moved further inside her, deeper than she’d ever experienced, and it was so achingly sweet to be filled with him, so … Her head arched back and a cry tore from her throat as everything inside her seemed to erupt in an ecstatic fountain of exquisite pleasure. Her head swam into a blissfully dreamy state and she looked at Max, who had done this amazing thing, her eyes filled with awed wonder.

He smiled a slow benevolent smile, his dark brilliant eyes tenderly caressing her as he leaned down and filled her mouth with his in a long, delicious kiss that heightened the lovely sensations floating through her.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered as he drew back.

He shook his head, his eyes still smiling. ‘It’s not over.’

He started rocking back and forth inside her with a gentle rhythm, watching her face, and to Chloe’s astonishment the floating sea of pleasure he had taken her to gathered waves that rolled through her, building up to one ecstatic peak after another, not as explosive as the first, but just as glorious in the intensity of feeling. And her heart swelled with love for him and what he was doing to her.

She watched his face as the surges inside her became more powerful, the rhythm faster, the smile swallowed up by tension, the need for release turning his eyes an opaque black. He threw his head back, too, and cried out as the shuddering spasms of climax sent their flood of pleasure through him.

His chest was heaving for breath as he collapsed forward, arms burrowing under her, rolling onto his back and carrying her with him, holding her in a fiercely possessive embrace. She lay with her head tucked under his chin, her hand spread over his thundering heart, her legs limply sprawled over his, and felt a strange wave of tenderness, wanting to soothe him into the same lovely sense of contentment he’d given her. Was it over now, she wondered, or was this the beginning of an intimacy that would move her life to a place she had never imagined?

Her mind drifted to the image she had once had of him—Maximilian Hart, the powerful, ruthless, intimidating mover and shaker who always got what he wanted. The master player. He’d moved her, shaken the whole foundations of her world, but what, in the end, did he want with her?

Right now, Chloe couldn’t bring herself to care.

She loved being with him like this.

And she was going to revel in it as long as it lasted.