her bra. She could see he was hard beneath the sheet, and, in response to the command from her hungry eyes, he kicked it off.
He loved that he did not have to persuade her—that he did not have to slowly remove her bra and kiss her while sliding down her knickers.
Instead, she took care of that.
For this was no accident.
Her delicately shaped curls, which he had not had time to appreciate last night, had a coppery tinge that he stared at as she removed her bra. For the first time in years he was hungry to taste a woman, and reached for her to join him in bed.
‘After this morning...’ she warned, but he hushed her with his mouth. ‘I mean it, Luka,’ Cecelia said, pulling hers away.
‘Sure,’ he agreed, ‘so this morning we make the most of it.’
Instead of kissing her, he knelt and lowered his head to her breast.
His tongue swirled around her nipple while his mouth closed and created a delicious vacuum. He sucked hard and Cecelia felt herself clench down below.
‘Luka...’
‘Nice?’ he asked, removing his mouth and blowing on her erect nipple. Cecelia didn’t know how to answer.
It was beyond nice, it was bliss, yet his moves were so practised and sure. She closed her eyes and then his mouth moved down her stomach.
‘Am I getting the full Luka Kargas treatment?’ she asked.
There was a moment of arrested silence while he paused, his mouth hovering over her stomach. What she didn’t know was that in Luka’s world the tables had turned many years ago. He no longer went down on women.
His start had been sex and Luka had long ago perfected his routine.
But now that his wealth exceeded theirs...
Well, he paid for their favours.
Not directly, of course.
With jewels and exotic weekends.
Now they went down on him instead of the other way around.
But not this morning.
It had been years since...
Years since her pleasure had mattered.
This morning it did.
‘No,’ he responded to her question. ‘You’re getting me.’
He kissed her stomach, not lightly but as deeply and intently as if it were her mouth, and Cecelia found her breath held in her throat as his hand slid between her closed legs. ‘Open them.’
She did, just a little, and she lay there, determined almost not to enjoy it. To remind herself that this was his skill.
His thumb was intent and his fingers were inside her but Cecelia’s throat was tight as he teased and stroked and rubbed, for she brought up her knees in an involuntary movement.
Women had paid him for this, she told herself as his tongue set to work alongside his thumb.
There was a moan building but she held onto it, yet he read it, for he moved between her legs to increase the intensity.
Luka heard her low moan and forgot his practised moves of old for this was new.
He heard her gasps, and finally learned the scent and taste of Cecelia on his tongue.
Her thighs were shaking as he probed deeply, and her hand pressed on his head, pushing him away. He knew she resisted pleasure.
So he upped the intensity again.
‘Luka...’ she sobbed, because it was too intense. His tongue was penetrating and he growled—and knew the moment she felt it. She wanted to come, but knew she would come so deeply that she was terrified to let herself go.
‘Come, Cece,’ he said, his voice rumbling through her. It was a command, an order her body could not ignore. Her back arched and her orgasm shot through her like lightning and earthed to his mouth.
He coaxed every flicker from her so that she was flushed and near crying when her body came down.
Never had it tasted this good. This was not like the work he used to do. This was different.
He slid up her body, Cecelia pulling him those final inches. They drank from each other in a desperate kiss that was both deep and heady. Luka came up on his arms but she pulled his head back down to claim a deeper kiss.
It was nothing like either of them had known before.
He was practised to the core and she was so new to passion, yet it was fire that they made together. She did not want him to be this good.
‘That wasn’t work,’ he told her. ‘That was bliss.’
And so was this.
He was there at her entrance and nudging a little way in. ‘Come with me,’ he said to the shell of her ear. ‘To Xanero...’
Luka did not want to go and now had been presented with a way to make it more bearable.
She liked the thought of fourteen nights of this. But she held back.
‘No,’ she said, and he pulled out. ‘I mean, no to Xanero...’
But yes to this.
Her eyes were closed as he slid in deep, all the way in. If she could have examined her thoughts she feared she would rediscover her self-control, and the part of her that knew this was wrong.
And so did Luka.
But they were past caring.
The feel of him unsheathed and stretching her was sublime.
And for Luka too, for she was slippery yet tight. He drove in deep and she let out a moan that he wanted to turn into a scream.
He reached for her leg and wrapped her calf around his thigh, pushing into her again. She was more open than she had ever been.
He thrust slowly and could feel the intimate welcoming grip of her.
Her nails dug into his buttocks and she moved with him until they were lost to each other and the moment.
‘Luka...’ She could barely breathe, yet at her plea he took her harder and faster, making her dizzy. She could feel her climax building and this time she welcomed it.
He angled himself and took her deeper and then he tipped into rapid, rhythmic thrusts from which there was no return. It was her scream that brought him back to consciousness.
It was her first scream in bed, Luka knew as his stomach lifted and he pulsed into her, shouting his release.
Her cry came from a place she had never known, and her orgasm was so intense that for a moment she felt possessed. As if her body had been taken over by someone else, by a woman who knew how to be free.
Yet as she gloried in the sensation, his weight atop her reminded her starkly that soon she would have to dig her way out of the ashes from the fire he had brought to her heart.
‘COME WITH ME to Xanero.’
As the mist was clearing he said it again. His weight pressed down on her even as he still rested inside her. If there was ever a weak moment this was it and Cecelia knew she was about to say yes when Luka spoke.
‘Not to the resort or anything,’ he added, pushing up onto his forearms. ‘Or my mother would think we were serious or something. You could stay on the yacht.’
Cecelia slid out from under him and rolled to her side. He did the same.
She had almost said yes.
In