Bedded for His Pleasure. Heidi Rice

hands. She could see the bitter regret in his face and she shattered—the pent-up emotions of long years of inadequacy and denial bursting out.

      ‘I can’t do this. I’m no good at it.’ She began to shake, raw with humiliation. The misery engulfed her. Why had she thought that with him it might work? For a while, as they’d kissed and caressed it had been so wonderful. She’d been spun up in a whirlwind of passion and excitement. But then, it had been dragged away. She’d failed, as always.

      He held her gently, drawing her into his arms, settling her close.

      ‘Shh. Don’t cry. I rushed you. I went too damn fast. It’s my fault.’

      ‘It’s not.’ She snuffled, determined to tell him the truth. ‘I’m rubbish at this. I’ve been told I’m frigid.’

      She wanted to get up, get away. But his arms tightened around her, holding her in place.

      ‘Please, I have to go.’ She could hear the pathetic whimper in her voice and despised herself for it.

      She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes, or, worse, the pity. But then he tucked his finger under her chin, forced her face up to his.

      ‘Don’t go, Red.’ There was no pity, just concern. He touched his lips to hers, the kiss so gentle it was like a whisper. ‘Who’s the dumb bastard who said you were frigid?’

      ‘Toby. His name was Toby Collins.’

      ‘Toby, huh?’ He pushed the hair from her brow, brushed it back carefully as he met her eyes. Then his own went hard with anger. ‘I’d like to get Toby Collins and string him up by his nuts.’

      ‘Oh!’ What else was there to say?

      He looked so fierce and forbidding she almost felt sorry for her former fiancé. If Toby hadn’t been on the other side of the Atlantic, his nuts would surely be in grave danger.

      Monroe drew her closer. ‘But seeing as Toby and his pea-sized nuts aren’t here right now, we’re gonna have to undo the damage he did instead.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, wary of the determination in his voice.

      ‘You’re not frigid. And we’re going to prove it.’

      She tensed in his arms, painfully aware of his nakedness and her own.

      ‘I don’t…’ She paused. ‘That’s really not necessary.’

      ‘Oh, yeah, it is.’ He dipped his head, took her lips in a slow, tender kiss.

      The low throbbing in her belly seemed to come from nowhere. But she drew back, flushed but horribly unsure of herself. ‘I don’t think I can, Monroe.’

      He trailed a finger down across her breast, watching it intently as he circled the peak.

      ‘You can do it.’ He glanced up, dazzled her with that easy, confident grin she knew so well. ‘If you’re treated with the proper care and attention.’

      His fingertip toyed with her nipple. A breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding gushed out. She glanced down at him hard against her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat; he was still fully aroused and he looked enormous.

      His grin spread as her shocked gaze met his. ‘We were so close before. We’re going to take it real slow and easy this time and do it right.’

      He levered himself up, got off the couch and pulled her up with him. Dumping the two large cushions onto the floor, he knelt on them and then tugged her down beside him. ‘Lie down.’

      She did as she was told, confused and wary, feeling hideously exposed, like an offering on a sacrificial altar, as he lay down next to her.

      ‘Don’t look so worried.’ He kissed her. ‘The only rules are, you don’t think and you don’t touch. All right?’

      ‘Okay.’

      Slowly, carefully, he began to stroke his fingers down the length of her. He seemed to take for ever. At first, she felt foolish, inadequate, but when his touch swept the underside of her breast, she shuddered. His fingers trailed down her arms next, catching the soft skin inside her elbow, and she gasped. Then he found the sensitive place behind her knee as he drew her legs up.

      Her centre throbbed, insistent and intense. He followed his hands with his lips and when she tried all she could think of was where he would go next. Anticipation, then delight. The process was slow, delicious torture as his tongue delved and dipped, stroked and slid across her heated flesh.

      She had to touch him. But when his lips closed over her nipple and she tried to grab his head, he pulled back. Capturing her wrists in one hand, he held them above her head. ‘No touching. Remember?’

      ‘Please, I want to feel you, too.’ The words came out on a sob as she strained against him, but he simply shook his head and held her in place.

      It seemed he caressed her breasts for ever. Lathing the sensitive tips and then blowing softly, making them pucker fiercely before his appreciative gaze. Making her writhe against his controlling hands.

      She panted, all thoughts flown from her head but the unbearable heat, the intense pleasure at her core. Her heart raced so fast, it would surely explode. The burning between her thighs was so intense she couldn’t draw breath. He released her wrists to circle the soft skin of her inner thighs. At last, he was going to touch her there, where she needed him most. But still his fingers teased, stroking the soft curls at the juncture. Finally, he probed within. The touch was barely there, but her sigh choked out on a sob. Then he stroked again, pushing the folds back, watching her face. His eyes held hers as she sobbed again. She was clinging to the edge of a desperate precipice. He was there now, right at the heart of the heat, making it burn.

      ‘I…Please, don’t stop.’ She didn’t know what she was begging for, but saw his slow grin, the blaze of desire in his eyes.

      ‘Let it go, Red.’

      He purred the words as she shot over the edge. Everything inside her released, crashed down and then exploded into a million tiny, glittering pieces. She could hear herself, a thousand miles away, cry out on a shattered moan.

      ‘Come on, baby, we’re not through yet.’

      She was still shivering, dazed by the aftermath of passion as he reared above her. He held her legs apart and settled between them. Angling her hips up with firm hands, he probed at her entrance and then pushed his rigid sex within in one long, slow, shocking thrust.

      The fullness was unbearable. She felt stretched, impaled. But where before there had been pain, now there was only the sure, unstoppable rush of pleasure. She sobbed as passion slammed back into her full force, like a runaway train, hard and fast and out of control.

      ‘Look at me, Red. I want to see you do it again.’ His voice was low, thick with desire. Her eyes fixed on his face. He looked so gorgeous at that moment. The inferno built inside her with each powerful thrust.

      She soared over this time, falling free as they shouted out their release together.

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      ‘WOW!’ Jessie stroked Monroe’s back. She loved the solid feel of him on top of her, his ragged breathing echoing her own.

      He grunted and lifted himself up on his elbows. ‘Am I crushing you?’

      ‘Yes.’ She sighed, enjoying the flushed look on his face. She’d done that to him, she thought, and welcomed the rush of female power. ‘But don’t go.’ She hugged him. ‘I like it.’

      He smiled, but eased away. Turning on his side, he tugged her to him with one arm. The cushions had fallen apart in their frenzy, leaving them in a dip between the two. He tucked a tendril of her flyaway hair behind her ear. ‘You’re looking kinda smug, Red.’

      ‘I am?’ She laughed, the sound girlish. His eyes