Maggie Cox - British Bachelors - Rich and Powerful - What His Money Can't Hide / His Temporary Mistress / Trouble on Her Doorstep

Her heart leapt when he didn’t immediately move away, as she’d thought he might. Instead he leant forward and, with his face just bare inches from hers—so close that she could almost count every lustrous dark eyelash that swept over his dazzling silver gaze—said, ‘You may not have a lot of experience, my angel, but when it comes to satisfying a man’s desire, trust me—you have everything that’s needed and much more besides.’ He finished this comment with a sexy boyish grin that all but stopped her heart.

‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ She smiled.

After dropping a warm and lazy kiss on her surprised mouth, he lay down with his head between her breasts and trailed his fingers gently up and down her bare arm. Revelling in his deliciously erotic male scent, and the weight of his hard, lean body pressing her firmly down into the mattress, Layla resolved to memorise every moment of this ardent union with Drake—knowing that whatever happened to her in the future she would never forget it …

The second time they made love that night it was no less passionate, but the caresses on both sides were infused with tenderness and much more considered. To Layla’s delight, Drake paid particular attention to ensuring she received just as much pleasure and satisfaction as he did—if not more—and in turn she loved the fact that her intuition and desire led her to discovering just where and how he liked to be touched. In that discovery all her doubts about knowing how to please him disappeared.

Afterwards, they fell asleep in each other’s arms in the softly illuminated lamplit room.

After waking in the middle of the night because she was in need of the bathroom, Layla quickly returned to the sumptuous dishevelled bed she had so briefly vacated and switched off the lamps on the gleaming walnut cabinets that stood either side of it. The room was plunged into a near pitch-black darkness that was punctuated by the sound of Drake’s gentle breathing. He appeared to be in the deepest of slumbers.

Pleased at the thought that their lovemaking had helped him to relax, she snuggled down beside him, gently laid her arm across his abdomen and closed her eyes.

What could have been no more than a few minutes later, she found her arm violently pushed aside with an anguished shout.

‘Drake, what is it?’ Her hand quickly fumbling for the light switch on the lamp next to her, Layla pushed up into a sitting position as once again the room was suffused with a softly diffused glow.

Hearing the laboured breathing of the man lying by her side, she saw with a start that his brow was studded with perspiration, almost as though he was sweating out a fever. When he turned his head to look at her she saw that his wide-eyed gaze was nothing less than terrified. In the depths of his haunted grey eyes she saw the pain and horror of a man who had been shown a devastating glimpse of hell and believed himself to be trapped in that realm, perhaps for ever.

Leaning towards him, she cautiously touched his shoulder, softly murmuring, ‘You must have had a nightmare … a bad dream. But it’s gone now, Drake. You’re safe and here with me. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise.’

In response, he shrugged off her hand and roughly drove his fingers through his hair. Then he sat up. After that he simply fell into a kind of stunned trance, remaining mute. His harsh breaths continued for several more seconds before eventually returning to a more regular rhythm.

Still staring straight ahead of him he spoke. And his voice sounded as if it scraped over gravel when he declared suddenly, ‘You turned out the lights.’

Tugging the silk counterpane protectively up over her breasts, Layla felt inexplicable fear wash over her like an icy river. The statement had sounded like an accusation. ‘I did it automatically … when I returned from the bathroom.’

‘I don’t sleep with the lights out … ever .’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know that. If it makes things more comfortable for you, I can sleep in one of your guest rooms for the rest of the night, if you like?’

The scowl on his handsome face as he turned towards her was forbidding. ‘No! I don’t want that.’

Layla’s blood ran cold for a second time. ‘All right, then, I’ll—I’ll stay here with you.’

‘I’m sorry, Layla. I’m sorry if I scared you.’ He grimaced.

‘It must have been a terrible dream. Do you think that you could tell me about it?’

Although his troubled expression had started to ease a little, Drake stared at her as if once again cornered by something frighteningly threatening. ‘Please don’t ask me. It’s not something I feel ready to share and I don’t know if I ever will.’

‘This is one of those places you don’t want me to go? Is that what you’re telling me?’

He nodded and looked desolate for a moment, and although she desperately wanted to know Layla knew this wasn’t the time to enquire more deeply into why he didn’t sleep with the lights off. What he needed right now was unquestioning understanding, she decided, and maybe some consolation as well. Nightmares could disturb the strongest of characters.

Pushing aside the silk counterpane, she moved towards him, cupped his jaw, then tenderly kissed him on the mouth. It was like touching flame to dry tinder, and straight away the heat that flared between them made him haul her onto his lap so that her thighs spread over his, and the clash of lips, teeth and tongues became even more urgent and demanding.

When Drake moved his hands to her hips to position her over his already hard member, then pushed up inside her, Layla threw back her head and let loose a deep throated groan. She was still a little tender from their previous energetic coupling, but in a way this raw and elemental coming together was even more inevitable and necessary than both those occasions—because right now Drake really needed her. And for the first time in her life she discovered that she finally knew what it was to really need a man too …

As he started to move more deeply inside her his palms hungrily cupped and kneaded her breasts. Every now and then his fingers and thumbs tugged at her rigid nipples, sending fiery heat directly to her womb. With her tousled dark hair falling around her face Layla stared back into his blazing lustful glance, her heart pounding so hard it was difficult to think straight. But most of all she was struck dumb by the sheer intensity of the feelings she saw reflected in his eyes.

‘You are one seriously sexy and beautiful woman,’ he declared huskily, his breathing ragged with unashamed need and desire.

Leaving her breasts, his hands reached up to pull her face down to his. Just as their lips made contact she sensed him buck beneath her, and even as he kissed her it was with a mixture of shock and pleasure that she registered the hot liquid heat that spurted into her womb. But there was barely time to contemplate the event because in the very next moment her own climax burst upon her. Freeing her lips from his still demanding mouth and oh-so-seductive moist tongue, she let her head fall against Drake’s hard-muscled shoulder with a breathless gasp that was quickly followed by several more …

LAYLA was taking a shower and washing her hair. Having left her with one of his finest cotton shirts to replace the pretty blouse he had ripped open last night, Drake had nipped out to a local French patisserie to buy warm croissants and a pot of speciality fruit jam for them to enjoy with their morning coffee. Even as his mind teemed with provocative detailed reruns of the events of last night his body throbbed from the passionate lovemaking they had shared. He’d had little sleep, God knew, but this morning he felt on top of the world.