Emma Darcy - The Secret Mistress

“A substance has to be readily available for one to become addicted,” he murmured, sipping seductively at her lips. “I’ll just take all I can get of it tonight.”

Readily available... the phrase echoed in Shontelle’s ears as Luis fully engaged her mouth with his in a long, devouring kiss, stirring her hunger for him, a hunger that had been starved for two miserable, empty years. If she’d stayed, maybe he would have defied his heritage to keep her. Foolish pride... walking out on him without confronting him with what she’d been told, what he’d withheld. An open choice would have been better, cleaner.

Maybe with this second chance...

She raked her fingers through his hair, revelling in the feel of it, a huge surge of possessiveness welling through her. This man was hers, had to be. There was no other like him. And he had to feel the same about her. It had to be mutual, this passionate craving.

Then suddenly her hands were snatched away, slammed onto the bed and pinned above her head as he levered himself up. “It’s my night, Shontelle.”

She looked into eyes seething with dark turbulence.

“And the playing will be all mine.”

He bent and licked her lips as though collecting the lingering evidence of her response to his kiss, then trailed his mouth slowly down to the pulse at the base of her throat, pausing there to apply a heated pressure that kicked her heart into wilder pumping.

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