Robyn Donald - One Passionate Night

‘Hell, Charlotte.’

‘What?’

‘You have to stop doing this to me.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Making me lose the plot. I’m the sheikh here. You’re the captive bride. You do as I say.’

‘Do I have to? I mean… I don’t want to wait.’

‘You might not have noticed but I’m not wearing a condom. They’re back in the bedroom. Can’t you wait a few minutes?’

She really couldn’t.

‘Unless there’s some other reason why you have to use protection,’ she blurted out, ‘I—er—I’m on the Pill.’

‘On the Pill,’ he repeated, and a shudder ran through him. ‘You shouldn’t have told me that, Charlotte.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because men will often say anything not to use condoms. Men can be very selfish. And stupid. I’ve always used protection myself. I’m somewhat paranoid about getting a girl pregnant. But you only have my word for that.’

‘Your word is fine by me,’ she said. ‘I know you wouldn’t lie about something as serious as that.’

‘God, woman.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ He shook his head, splashing water all over the place. ‘This is going to be a new experience for me.’

‘What is?’

‘Being with someone like you.’

‘What does that mean? What’s different about me?’

‘Everything. Now shut up and let me kiss you.’

She shut up and let him kiss her and kiss her till she was squirming against him. Once again, his mouth burst away, his eyes flashing her a warning.

‘Enough of that,’ he growled, and spun her in his arms so that her back was to him. The water splashed down over her head and body, forming rivulets that streamed down.

‘Wind your arms back around my waist,’ he told her.

It was an incredibly exciting position, leaving her entire front totally accessible to his hands whilst hers were linked behind him as if she was, indeed, a captive bride. She could feel her heart thudding behind her ribs, her chest rising and falling.

Her heart raced even more when he dribbled shower gel over her breasts then started to caress them. The slipperiness of the liquid soap made everything more sensual and sensitive. Soft little sounds of pleasure escaped her lips every time he grazed one of her nipples.

When he abandoned her breasts and moved southward, Charlotte sucked in her stomach. When he passed beyond her navel, her whole belly started quivering. He was going to touch her down there. Her breath caught in anticipation and then his hand was sliding into the slickened folds of her sex. Every internal muscle she owned tensed, and waited. Waited and craved. His fingers slowly slid inside, moving as deep as they could before withdrawing a little then pushing deep again.

And again. And again.

Her breath began coming in short, sharp pants. Something was happening inside her. He kept touching something with each inward push, then sweeping over another highly sensitive part as he withdrew. Blinding pleasure mingled with an escalating frustration, a need for something that remained just outside her reach. Her muscles tightened further. Her mouth fell open. She wanted to scream. Or sob.

‘Oh,’ she cried out when the first spasm hit. ‘Oh…’

Charlotte had always tried to imagine what an orgasm felt like. Nothing in her mind, however, matched the reality of the experience.

But how could you describe such feelings? Or the sensations? They were beyond words.

‘Good?’ he whispered in her ear when it was over.

‘Mmm,’ was all she could reply. Suddenly she went all limp, her arms flopping back down to her sides.

‘Too tired to continue?’

‘Not at all,’ she shot back, snapping out of her momentary exhaustion in a hurry. No way was she going to waste any of tonight. Not if she could help it.

‘In that case, I think we should adjourn to the bed.’

She swung round to face him. ‘But I don’t want to go to bed.’ As much as the bed out there looked incredibly romantic and erotic, bed had never been a place where sex for her had been all that successful. She liked being in this shower with him. It excited her. ‘I’d much prefer to stay here for a while.’

‘Actual sex in the shower is not always a good idea, Charlotte,’ he said. ‘Not unless…’ His black eyes glittered momentarily. But then he shook his head. ‘No. No, I don’t think so.’

‘But I want to,’ she insisted, her hands lifting to rest on his chest. ‘Tell me what to do. Show me.’

Show her.

Daniel groaned. Didn’t she know he was already close to the point of no return?

His male ego had been pleased with having made her come. But it demanded more. He wanted her to climax whilst he was making love to her. But that was unlikely if he proceeded at this stage. He’d come himself in no time and she’d be left in no man’s land.

But he was tempted. Cruelly tempted.

‘It’s too soon,’ he told her. ‘For you .’

‘But not for you,’ she returned, her eyes dropping to where he was still erect.

‘No,’ he said ruefully. ‘Not for me.’

He almost jumped out of his skin when she reached down and curled both her hands around him.

‘No, don’t,’ he warned her. But she was already caressing him, moving her soft hands up and down his aching shaft. When she moved a thumbpad over the velvety tip, he groaned.

‘Good?’ she whispered, an echo of what he’d asked her earlier.

‘Yes,’ he bit out.

He grimaced when she reached for the shower gel and poured some over him. Hell on earth!

Now her hands slid so easily up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

‘Charlotte,’ he choked out.

She looked up into his eyes. Hers were big and gleaming with a wild excitement. She was genuinely enjoying what she was doing, this realisation shattering what little was left of his control.

He still tried to stop himself. This was not what he intended. He’d been going to be the master here, and she the pupil. It was clear, however, that she was not as inexperienced as Brad had intimated, for she sure as hell had done this before.

‘Yes,’ she ground out with elation in her eyes when he started to tremble. ‘Yes…’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘HOW do you take your coffee?’ Charlotte asked, glancing over at Daniel.

He was sprawled out on one of the sofas, eating grapes, his upper torso bare, a bath sheet slung low around his hips.

Charlotte was wearing one of the hotel’s white towelling bathrobes. She’d spotted her overnight bag in the dressing room when she’d stripped off earlier, but hadn’t bothered to open it yet.

‘Black. One sugar,’ he replied.

‘I wish I had a rubber band,’ she muttered as she made them both coffee. ‘I’d like to get this hair out of my face.’ Still damp, her hair was a heavy mass of wayward waves that fell across one eye all the time. She pushed it back and tried to anchor it behind her ear, not altogether successfully.

‘Don’t be silly. Your hair looks great like that. Very sexy. Like you.’

Charlotte flushed. ‘You honestly think I’m sexy?’

‘Do you doubt me?’

‘I’m different from usual with you,’ she confessed as she carried over the two mugs and placed them down on the black-lacquered coffee-table. ‘I don’t make a habit of doing what I did in the shower. In fact, I’ve never done anything like that before.’

But she’d wanted to. That was the most shocking thing of all. She didn’t just feel sexier with him, she felt wicked. Lust had turned her from her usual reserved self into a vamp.

‘You are constantly surprising me, Charlotte,’ he said as he picked up his coffee mug, his eyes meeting hers over the rim.

Lord, but he had incredible eyes. His body wasn’t too bad, either.