Tugging her to him again, he held her close and felt her soften against him. He kissed her, stroking her with his tongue, until her mouth fell open, and he slid deep inside. She gave a gasp of pleasure and her hands crept up around his neck, pulling him to her until he could feel the soft press of her small, pointed breasts against his chest. Sliding his hands inside the dress, he cupped them gently. Her nipples hardened against his palms, and she groaned against his mouth. The sound ran through him like a lightning bolt straight to his groin, and the kiss rocketed from gentle to demanding
It wasn’t enough—he needed to see her. He sat back, his breath coming fast as he made out the shadowy curves of her breasts inside the open bodice of her dress. He drew the straps down her arms so the material pooled around her slender waist. Her breasts were small but exquisitely formed, uptilted and tipped with dark strawberry nipples waiting for his touch. Framing them with both hands, he lifted them, his thumbs grazing the engorged tips. They tightened under his touch, and she whimpered her need. Smoothing his hands down to her rib cage, he raised her body up to him so he could stroke his tongue over the taut peaks, again and again, until she arched her back, begging for more. He drew one nipple into his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth then tugging gently.
Lia moaned low in her throat, and in that moment, he knew without a doubt that her desire matched his own.
Chapter Four
Lia felt the sharp edge of his teeth as he bit down on the sensitive point of her breast. The feeling was unbelievable, pulling at places deep within her body. She was aware that she was going under fast, drowning in desire, and she was way past caring. She wanted this. She knew she couldn’t push him away. Instead, she threaded her fingers deeper into the soft, silky darkness of his hair and held him to her while his mouth suckled her. She let her eyes drift closed and sank into the sensations, the aching tug of his mouth at her breasts, the heat welling up between her clenched thighs.
His hands moved over her, stroking down her body until he could slide one hand slowly beneath her skirt. Lia went still, unsure whether she was scared in case he went further, or terrified in case he didn’t. The one hand slipped beneath her panties, and she was lost. His fingers moved over her very slowly, dipping into the moist heat, and gliding lazy circles against her sensitive flesh. Her head fell back, and she couldn’t suppress her hungry groan. He whispered words in Italian against her skin.
“What?”
“You are so hot, cara. So hot, and wet, and tight.”
For one moment, she thought he was going to stop, and the panic cleared her mind. What was she doing? What was she allowing this man to do? Then he kissed her mouth. At the same time, his finger flexed inside her, and her body jerked involuntarily against his hand.
He waited until she went still against him, then his fingers moved again, played ever so teasingly across her tender, swollen flesh, barely eluding that most sensitive spot. Then he stroked one finger lightly over her, and her brain ceased to function.
“Relax, cara,” he murmured, pulling away from her. “I’ll get you there, I promise, but first we need to talk.”
Lia shook her head, confused by the abrupt change in direction. “Talk?”
Her brain was woozy from the Scotch, and her body ached for something she clearly wasn’t about to get. She had a suspicion that she might never again, in her whole life, feel the way his hands on her body made her feel. That thought filled her with despair.
“Lia, tell me about your father.”
The mention of her father brought her slightly out of her stupor.
“My father? I don’t understand.”
“Of course you do, cara. It’s simple enough. I want to know where he is.”
She bit her lip. “I told you, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him for ages.”
“How long?”
“Over ten years. Why are you asking me this now?”
“Just curious. So why are you here?”
There was something she didn’t understand, but she couldn’t seem to get her head around it—the transfer from seduction to interrogation was too abrupt. And she wasn’t about to get into her reasons for being here.
“I told you. I wanted a job. That’s all.”
Luc relaxed visibly, the tension draining from his taut figure, and Lia let out her breath. He’d believed her lies.
When he stood up and took her hand, she let herself be tugged her to her feet. She didn’t protest when he undid the remaining buttons, allowing her dress to slither to the floor in a pool around her. But a wave of self-consciousness washed over her, and she put a hand up to cover her breasts.
“I don’t…”
“You don’t what, cara mia?”
Lia shook her head in dazed confusion. There were so many don’ts she could have said: I don’t kiss, I don’t have sex, I don’t want to have sex. But that last one would have been a lie.
Luc was still almost fully dressed while she was all but naked. It didn’t seem fair.
“Come to bed, cara.” He held out his hand.
She shook her head; it was fuzzy from the alcohol she’d had to drink, something she rarely did, but she knew it wasn’t the alcohol that made her feel like this. Luc was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She remembered the feel of his fingers inside her and her body ached to feel his touch again. Surely, it wasn’t so bad to take what he offered. Just one night and she would return to real life and forget him. She’d think of another way out of her problems, and put this behind her forever.
Stepping out of her dress, she slid her palm into his. He led her through a door at the back of the office into a sitting room and through another door, into a huge bedroom dominated by the most enormous bed Lia had ever seen. She stopped short at the sight, and her last coherent thought was Luc had been right—she was, in fact, terribly naïve.
Then he kissed her again, his hot tongue filling her mouth, and it really didn’t matter.
After a minute, he raised his head, his brilliant green eyes searching her face. “You want this?”
Why was he asking now, when it was too late, when she was just about naked, and her breasts ached, and she could feel a warm wetness between her thighs? She nodded, but he must have caught her confusion, because he reached out and stroked the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. He took a step back from her, tugged off his tie, and dropped it to the floor.
“I get the impression it’s been a while for you,” he said. “You must tell me if you don’t like anything I do.”