Annie West - Ruthless Revenge - Sweet Surrender

‘I’m no coward.’ It came out through clenched teeth.

‘You’re looking for excuses.’ Donato raised his hands. ‘Forget your father. Forget the wedding and the business deal. Forget your sister. I was never interested in her.’

Ella scrutinised his face but his look was sincere. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth and she swallowed hard.

‘This is about you and me. I’m telling you I want you. The question is, are you woman enough to admit you want me too?’

‘With you holding my father’s potential bankruptcy over our heads?’

Donato shook his head. ‘There are two separate issues here.’ He spoke slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘There’s my business deal with your father, and yes, the proposal for a wedding is tied to that. But,’ he continued when she would have interrupted, ‘that’s not what we’re discussing right now. No one is forcing you into anything. Believe me, I would never force a woman into my bed.’

Ella stared into his face, noting how those dark features set in stern lines of rigid control. There was hauteur in the flash of his eyes and pride in the set of his shoulders.

She believed him. The realisation rocked her.

‘What we’re discussing now is sex.’ His voice turned deep and liquid on the word, matching the slow-burning need inside Ella. ‘You and me. Uncomplicated, satisfying, scorching.’

‘Scorching?’ Ella didn’t know how the word escaped. It wasn’t what she’d meant to say. Clearly the look in his eyes had incinerated part of her brain. ‘You assume a lot.’

He shook his head. ‘I assume nothing. I know , Ella. Can’t you feel it?’ Again he reached for her, but this time he only clasped her hand lightly. Fire sparked from the point of contact and she had to work to suppress shivers of delight.

How had she come to this? She’d raced halfway across Sydney to confront Donato, filled with righteous indignation and—

But there’d been more, hadn’t there? No matter what she pretended, it hadn’t just been indignation. She’d been almost relieved for the excuse to see him again, despite her fine talk about them never meeting again. She was angry, for sure. But she was also...enthralled.

She swallowed, her throat scratchy as she confronted the truth. She wanted Donato Salazar as she’d never wanted any man. Her skin felt too tight, her chest too full.

Donato stroked one finger along her palm and she gasped as pleasure rocketed through her.

‘Tell me you feel it too,’ he purred.

Ella bit back a groan of despair. She was out of her depth. She’d never been good at flirtation. Suddenly she didn’t care about pride or keeping up an image. This was about survival—and she felt like she was going under for the third time.

‘What do you want from me, Donato? I don’t play these games.’

‘I don’t play games either. Not about this.’ His face was grim, the hint of teasing erased from features that looked pared back and intense. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard, and something within her eased at that visible sign that he wasn’t totally in control.

Suddenly he stepped back, releasing her hand, and cool air wafted between them.

‘What happens next is up to you.’ His heavy-lidded look was a challenge and an invitation.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DONATO LOOKED DOWN into stunning blue-grey eyes, grown huge and wary. He felt the doubt radiating from Ella, just as he felt the heat of her sexual arousal.

His body was taut, humming with need. He couldn’t quite believe the effort it took not to step closer and persuade her into surrender as he knew he could. The attraction dragging at his belly, arcing between them, was powerful.

But there’d been something about the way she’d mentioned her sister, on top of her talk of being forced, that held him back. He’d seen the quickly veiled hint of fragility in Ella’s expression.

He didn’t have her measure yet but one thing he knew. He needed Ella to come to him.

The moment of silence grew to two pulse beats, three, four, more. His nerves and his patience stretched. He forced himself to stand there unmoving, as if he wasn’t strung out.

Then, with what sounded like a muffled oath, Ella launched herself forward. She cannoned into him, soft and curvaceous, warm and delectably feminine. Automatically he grabbed her to him, catching her in a tight hold. Her arms looped over his shoulders, her hands burrowing up through his hair, pulling his head down.

He had a moment to register that fresh-as-a-garden-after-rain scent then their mouths collided and his brain shorted.

So good. She felt even better than he’d expected. And she tasted—

Donato plunged deep into her mouth, forcing her head back, swallowing her sigh of response. Ribbons of heat unfurled through him as he savoured Ella, so delicious, so right. Her soft lips, her demanding tongue, the way she melted into him even as she challenged him to give more. He angled his head, hauling her even closer, lost in a kiss that was so much more than he’d expected, despite his anticipation.

He couldn’t get enough. Her lush body cushioning his instant erection. Her hot, eager mouth that tasted of peach nectar. Her thigh, sliding restlessly against his leg as their tongues tangled and lips fused.

Donato grabbed her thigh and hauled it up, swallowing her gasp of shocked approval. There. He wanted her there. He bent his knees, angling his hips so he rubbed against the softest, most secret part of her.

To his delight Ella’s hands tightened against his scalp, not pushing him away but clutching as if she couldn’t get close enough.

Dimly he wondered what had happened to slow seduction. To years of expertise at pleasing a woman. To caution and taking things one step at a time.

With Ella there were no steps. There was just a headlong plunge into riotous need.

With his other hand he grabbed her backside, lifting her into him, and she purred her approval. That throaty sound incited, inviting more. She nipped his bottom lip and angled her head to taste him better and his head spun.

Yes! He’d known Ella wouldn’t be a shrinking violet. Not the way passion had sparked and simmered in her, a conflagration waiting to be ignited. Yet he hadn’t expected—

Thought died as she rolled her pelvis against him.

Hell! He was shaking all over. If he wasn’t careful he might drop her.

No, he couldn’t drop her. His hands were welded to her. But they might collapse together on the marble floor if his legs gave way. He was pretty sure he could still enjoy Ella, even with a concussion. In fact a concussion would be worth it to experience Ella coming apart around him.

But she might get hurt.

With a desperate effort he dragged his eyelids up. He couldn’t remember shutting his eyes. All he remembered was the sensual assault as she launched herself at him and his body going into meltdown.

Lips still locked with hers, Donato scanned the foyer, instantly discounting the stairs to the upper floor and the bedrooms. They’d never make it that far. At this rate he wasn’t sure they’d make it out of their clothes.

The sideboard. It sat between two doors, a collector’s piece of exquisite workmanship. Perfect.

Lifting Ella against him, he stumbled across the foyer. Her eyes snapped open, the blaze hitting like a punch to the solar plexus.

‘What?’ She tugged her head away and instantly Donato wanted her back, her mouth surrendering to his.

Then she must have felt the solid furniture behind her because understanding flickered in her eyes. Donato lifted her so she sat on the sideboard, then he stepped in, pushing her knees wide.

For the merest of moments there was stillness between them, a waiting awareness, a final chance to break apart. Then Ella’s eyes drifted shut as he lightly touched her breast. It was high and plump enough to fill his hand. Delectable. Just like her shuddering sigh of approval and the way she arched into his touch, eager for more.