Anne Winston - The Millionaire's Cinderella

After Rio groaned, Joanna anticipated he would scoop her up and carry her to his bed, yet he continued to touch her again in much the same way she now touched him, kissed her with unrestrained passion. She was completely and utterly devoid of will. A tiny pinch of apprehension tried to rear its head but Joanna pushed it out of her mind, determined to concentrate solely on her goal, to break Rio down, one touch at a time.

In response, Rio murmured a few words from his mother’s native language, phrases he knew Joanna wouldn’t understand. Sexual words. His body’s reaction needed no interpretation. He was as achingly hard as he’d ever been in his life, as desperate for her as he’d ever been for any woman.

Her smooth, solid caress overrode Rio’s resistance, drove him to the brink, sliced his good sense to shreds.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

With his mind caught in a carnal haze and his body screaming for relief, Rio pulled her down onto the bathroom floor and kicked out of his jeans and briefs. He grabbed for a condom from the drawer and hesitated. But that hesitation—that faint glimmer of uncertainty— evaporated when Joanna released a soft beseeching sound.

Rio tore the package open with his teeth and rolled the condom on, then without formality, without the slightest pause, thrust into Joanna’s body. The extreme pleasure he felt at that moment came out in a rough sigh as he battled to hang on to his composure, at least for a while longer. Uninhibited, unrestrained, they rolled until Joanna was positioned above him, straddling him, taking the lead that he was more than glad to relinquish. He worked his hands into the damp curls spiraling at her shoulders and kept his eyes fixed firmly on hers, searching for any resistance, for any sign that he had read her wrong. He saw only the perfect portrait of a beautiful, sensual woman caught in a quest for liberation as she moved in an erotic tempo, rode him as if she intended to steal his sanity.

Determined to hold off his climax for as long as he could, Rio nudged Joanna forward with a palm on her back until he could take her pink-tipped breast into his mouth. He clasped her hips and gently pushed her down until he immersed himself completely in her inviting heat. She straightened and tilted her head back, her eyes closed, her lips trembling. Rio sensed she was on the verge of another orgasm. He wasn’t very far behind.

Beyond that point, Rio stopped thinking, stopped considering anything but the raw passion that blocked everything from his brain as a climax ripped through him, took him beyond the realm of conscious thought where nothing existed but Joanna’s own climax pulling him deeper inside her body, deeper into mindlessness.

After a time, Joanna wilted against his chest and her breath came out in ragged gasps to match his own. Rio held her tightly, reveling in the clean rain-shower scent emanating from her silky hair and soft skin, the taste of her still lingering on his tongue and lips. He experienced every brisk beat of her heart against his chest and each lingering pulsation where they were still joined. But as the sensations began to subside, awareness struck him like a fist in the face.

Joanna Blake was more than he’d ever imagined her to be as a lover, even in his most untamed dreams. Regardless of what she’d done to his body, done to his mind, it couldn’t compare to the havoc she was creating in his heart. She had set free something in him that he’d never expected, something far removed from physical gratification, and he knew in an elemental way he would never be the same from this point forward.

He also recognized that she needed more than sex. She needed a man who could love her well, day in and day out. A steady secure man who didn’t mind giving up his freedom to settle into a normal routine. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to open himself up to the possibility of a lifelong commitment, even if Joanna was the only woman who’d ever come close to rousing those feelings within him. Feelings he was too damn afraid to acknowledge.

With so many concerns hanging over his head, Rio began to regret giving in to base urges. He admittedly enjoyed sex hot and hard and fast if the situation called for it. And yes, Joanna had willingly participated, but she hadn’t exactly asked him, at least not verbally.

But this was more than sex. More than he cared to deal with at the moment. He had to come to terms with the fact that he’d started it, something he’d sworn not to do, and he’d finished it without regard to what she needed—slow, tender, considerate lovemaking in a comfortable bed, not on a bathroom floor, especially not the first time.

Right now he had to get away from her so he could think. So he could sufficiently chastise himself for the loss of control. He didn’t like losing control.

As much as he wanted to take Joanna to his bed, to say to hell with work and make love to her all day long, he wouldn’t. Not if he intended to face the harsh reality of the situation—she deserved better than him.

Slowly Rio rolled her aside, breaking all intimate contact, leaving him feeling oddly bereft. He came to his feet and started toward the door, his limbs heavy with satisfaction, his head and heart burdened with guilt.

Without retrieving his clothes, without even a glance back, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”

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