Trish Wylie - His After-Hours Mistress - The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress

He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her nipple until it tightened into a hard nub. And then he did the same to her other breast. And all the time she said nothing. Not that he wasn’t aware of her heightened excitement. Her breathing came in much shorter gasps and her fingers tightened in his hair until he felt that if she wasn’t careful she would pull it out by the roots.

Very slowly he released his mouth from hers and with even more painfully slow progress he nibbled his way down to her beckoning breasts, at the same time flipping open her blouse buttons so that they were revealed in all their naked glory to his greedy eyes.

Then he sucked each burning nipple in turn into his mouth, exulting when he heard her moans of pleasure, when she held him against her as though she never wanted him to stop. She tasted as sweet as she smelled and he knew he ought to call a halt before he came to the point when he couldn’t.

It was a tiny noise that did it. The sound of something shattering inside the house! A dropped plate perhaps, or a glass! Followed by a smothered cry. And it broke the spell.

He lifted his face to look at her. He saw sweetness and softness and wonderment. Lips that were moist and slightly swollen. Eyes that were glowing orbs of pleasure but with a question in them too. She was asking herself how this could have happened.

And he wanted to ask the same.

Was it the sweet night air that had seduced their senses? Was it their exotic surroundings? Was it the magic of the island? Or was it simply that when push came to shove she couldn’t resist him? He’d really given her little choice. She had wanted to retire to her room. Instead he had insisted she join him. What had happened next was inevitable. Except that for some reason his conscience bothered him. It didn’t normally. Most women he knew enjoyed his kisses. But Lucinda was different.

‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ he growled, but he said it so quietly that it was possible she hadn’t heard.

‘No, you shouldn’t,’ she agreed, also very quietly. ‘It went beyond the bounds of our contract. However, I’m prepared to forget it, provided it never happens again.’ And with that she pulled her blouse together and walked away with her head held high.

Lucinda could not believe that she had let Zane kiss her again. And not only on the lips! She’d let him undress her and taste her breasts, and touch them, and arouse them, and make her lose her mind. Oh, God, the pleasure he had given her! Even thinking about it recreated the sensations.

Indoors in her room she touched where he had touched. She looked at herself in the mirror. Saw the dreamy arousal in her eyes, the soft glow to her skin, and when she grazed her thumb lightly over her nipples the full sweet sensations winged once again through the very heart of her.

What was she to do? Amazingly he had apologised so perhaps he wouldn’t touch her again. But Lord help her—she wanted him to. He had given her a taste of what it could be like between them and she wanted to feed from it like a starving animal.

It was this island that did it, she felt sure. It was an exotic paradise just made for lovers. Had Zane known that when he brought her here? Or had St Lucia woven its spell over him too? He struck her as a man well able to control his emotions—so what had happened?

He needed a woman, that was what had happened. And she had been the only one available!

Looking at it like that made Lucinda tighten her lips. The magic was over, the spell broken. It didn’t have to be her; it could have been anyone. Zane Alexander had an insatiable sexual appetite. She must never forget that. He was used to a whole coterie of women sitting at his feet, waiting for his favours. He’d probably never been turned down.

What a shock he had in store!

NOT surprisingly Lucinda’s body refused to settle down and she slept little that night. She could still feel Zane’s touch, still smell the male scent of him, still experience rushes of pleasure whenever she remembered what he had done to her.

And the thought that he was in the next room played a big part as well. She had lain awake listening for him to come to bed and an hour or more had passed before she heard his soft footsteps and his door opening and closing. Even then she strained to hear the sounds of him moving about the room—and it was well into the early hours before all was still and quiet.

She slept intermittently but as soon as the first lazy fingers of dawn stretched across the sky Lucinda sprang out of bed. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, tied her hair back in a ponytail and set off to explore. The temperature outside was perfect, but she knew that all too soon the heat of the day would take over and she would wish herself back in the air-conditioned house.

The gardens were lush and green with a plethora of ferns and palms and exotic flowers that she did not know the names of. She discovered a path and followed it down the hillside. It became steeper and steeper with a handrail to the side and eventually Lucinda found herself on the shore, with the bay to her right with its dozens of moored yachts and cruisers, and to her left a long stretch of almost white sand.

By now the sun had painted the sky in a fleeting burst of red and apricot, until it rose majestically above the horizon and the colours muted and disappeared altogether. There was not another soul about and Lucinda kicked off her sandals and walked along the shore. The sea was tempting and although she had nothing to change into she ran into the lapping waves, laughing and splashing, until she was in deep enough to swim.

The water felt like silk against her skin and she raised her arms in long lazy strokes, enjoying the feeling of being at one with nature. She floated on her back, watched the birds wheeling and crying above, and was thinking of returning to the house when she became conscious of someone swimming beside her.

‘Zane!’ How had he got here? In no time flutters of anxiety filled her nerves. She had been enjoying her time alone. Now all she could remember was last night and him kissing her.

Zane grinned at her shocked face. ‘Is that all you have to say? Zane?’

‘I didn’t expect you. I didn’t even see you,’ she retorted, annoyed to feel her heart racing all over again.

‘Why are you up so early? Couldn’t you sleep? Wasn’t the bed comfortable?’

As if by mutual consent, they both turned and headed for the shore. ‘The bed was very comfortable, thank you,’ she replied, looking him straight in the eye. ‘It was my thoughts that kept me awake.’

‘Now let me think,’ he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Would they be thoughts about the project in hand? Were you busy imagining how you are going to transform my place? Or would your thoughts have been about—’ he paused deliberately, his eyes twinkling with humour ‘—what happened between us last night? I know I said I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m not sorry I did. Your boyfriend was a fool to let you go.’

By now they had reached shallow waters and they waded out and stood for a moment on the shore facing each other. Lord, he was sexy, thought Lucinda. He wore a pair of brief black swim-shorts and his body was tanned and firm and her fingers simply itched to touch him.

Heat flooded her. They were insane thoughts. She must learn to curb them. ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she said with a hint of anger in her voice. ‘It was the project I was thinking about. I’d actually like to go into Castries and see what’s on offer. Do you have a car I can use?’

‘Better still, I’ll come with you,’ he said without hesitation.

‘No!’ Lucinda’s voice came out in something like a panic-ridden shriek and she immediately amended it. ‘I mean, no, I’ll be better off alone. I’ll probably spend hours looking around. You’d be totally bored.’