Nicola Marsh - Hot Nights with the...Australian

‘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.