At the Tycoon's Service. Maya Banks

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Название At the Tycoon's Service
Автор произведения Maya Banks
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon By Request
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474003841



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eyes, saying those exact words. She struggled to remember more, but it slipped away as fast as it had slipped in.

      She closed her eyes in frustration even as she gave way to the pleasure of his touch.

      He slid the strap over her shoulder, following it with his lips until it tumbled down her arm. Then he turned his attention to the other side, giving it the same thorough attention. He thumbed the thin string down her arm until the satin material spilled from her body and landed in a pool on the floor.

      Uncertainty and vulnerability washed over her as she stood naked save for the lacy panties she wore. She jumped when he placed his hands over her belly again and then did a slow walk up and over her curves. His palms smoothed up her sides and then curved around to her breasts, where he cupped both soft mounds. His lips found her neck again, and she shivered uncontrollably as his thumbs caressed her taut nipples while he landed light nips with his teeth.

      “I want you,” he said in a guttural voice. “You’re so beautiful, agape mou. Come to bed with me.”

      It was so easy to forget her doubts and insecurities in the shelter of his arms. When they made love, they truly connected. There were no barriers, no stiffness and no reluctance. She lived for these moments, when he made her his, when he showed her far better than words what she meant to him.

      She turned, allowing his hands to slide over her skin. When she was facing him, she leaned up on tip toe and linked her arms around his neck. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

      With a low growl, he swooped in and captured her lips with barely controlled restraint. His movements were impatient tonight, as though he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he couldn’t wait to possess her.

      She allowed him to urge her toward the bed, his body pressed tightly to hers. He eased her onto the mattress, his lips never leaving hers. He lifted himself off her, his eyes blazing in the dim light. With jerky motions, he stripped out of his clothing before lowering himself once more.

      “Make love to me, Chrysander,” she said as she reached up to touch his face.

      He bent, and his lips moved heatedly down her jaw to her neck and then lower to her breasts. He tugged one taut nipple with his mouth before going to the other. Lightly, his tongue rolled over the crest, sending shock waves to her throbbing center.

      His dark head bobbed as he continued a path downward to the rise of her belly. Scooting his body down, he framed the mound between his hands with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes. Then he pressed his mouth to her stomach in a gentle kiss.

      Emotion knotted in her throat until it became hard to breathe around it. If only they could stay this way. Here, where there were no words, no defenses, she felt loved and cherished. No walls, no barriers, no secrets.

      His mouth moved lower, and she gasped when he nudged her thighs apart and touched his mouth to her pulsing core.

      “Chrysander!” she cried out as he licked over her sensitive bundle of nerves.

      “You taste so sweet, agape mou,” he said as he moved up her body again.

      He fit himself against her damp heat and then slowly slid inside her body. She closed her eyes and reached for him with a sigh of pleasure. Her hand threaded through the short hair at the back of his head and down to his nape where she caressed as he moved back and forth with exquisite gentleness.

      Then his lips found hers again, and he swallowed her abrupt cry as he sank deeper than before.

      “Give me your pleasure,” he said against her mouth. “Only to me.”

      She arched against him, her body tightening as the first stirrings of her release began deep and rushed in a thousand different directions. Her soft cry split the night, and he gathered her tightly to him. His hand smoothed down her side to her hip and then to the curve of her belly.

      “I can never get enough of you,” he admitted in a voice that sounded strangely vulnerable.

      She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, his expression fierce and haunted. And then he began to move harder, more demanding. Wordlessly he took her to indescribable heights. She floated freely, her body cocooned in bliss.

      So began the night. She’d barely come down from the peaks he’d driven her to when he began making love to her all over again. He possessed her tirelessly, commanding her body with a practiced ease that left her gasping. Throughout the night he was insatiable, and just before dawn, they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

      Even as Marley hovered in the euphoric aftermath, her sleep was troubled. There was a familiarity to Chrysander’s demanding lovemaking, as if for the first time he’d shown her part of her past life with him.

      In her dreams, she struggled to open a firmly shut door, knowing that on the other side lay her life, her memories, everything that had happened to her in her lifetime. She pulled at it then beat on it, sobbing for it to open and show her.

      She clawed at it, and finally, she managed to pry it open the barest amount. Light poured from the crack, and then, as suddenly as it had shone, brilliant and white, it was doused by an overwhelming feeling of fear and despair. She knew without a doubt that she didn’t want to see what was on the other side.

      In her shock, she loosened her grip and the door slammed shut, leaving her kneeling and shaking against the cold wood. No! She needed to know. She had to know. Who was she and what had happened to her?

      “Marley. Marley!” Chrysander’s urgent tones intruded on her dream. “You must wake up, pedhaki mou. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. You’re here with me.”

      She opened her eyes to see Chrysander over her, his eyes bright with concern. He’d turned the lamp on beside the bed, and for that she was grateful. She felt suffocated by the darkness of her dream.

      She felt wetness on her cheeks and realized she’d been crying in her sleep. Her heart still raced with panic, and she couldn’t dispel the awful feeling of foreboding that had gripped her.

      She tried to speak, to tell Chrysander she was all right, but a cry wrenched from her throat. He gathered her tightly in his arms and held her close as her body shook with sobs.

      “You’re going to make yourself ill, Marley. You must stop.”

      For a long time she gripped his arms, not wanting him to pull away from her. When she finally managed to regain control of herself, he gently eased her back onto the pillows.

      “What has frightened you so badly, agape mou?

      The images from her dream came roaring back, but she was hard-pressed to make sense of them. Thankfully, the awful panic had receded so that she could breathe normally again.

      “I was at a door,” she said, her speech faltering. “And I knew that on the other side of the door were my memories. But I couldn’t open it no matter how hard I tried. Finally, I managed to crack it but then…”

      “Then what?” he asked gently.

      “Fear,” she whispered. “So much fear. I was afraid. I let go of the door, and it slammed shut.”

      He lay back down beside her and curled his arms around her. “It was just a dream, pedhaki mou. Just a dream. It can’t hurt you. You fear the unknown. This is natural.”

      She slowly began to relax against him. He stroked her back, his palm gliding up and down her spine.

      “Are you all right now? Do you want me to call for Dr. Karounis?”

      She shook her head against his chest. “No. I’m fine. Really. I feel so silly now.”

      “You’re not silly. Try and go back to sleep. I fear I kept you awake far too long tonight.”

      His voice had deepened to a husky timbre, and her body tightened all over as she remembered the ways he’d kept her up.

      With a yawn, she burrowed as tightly as she could against his hard