His Forbidden Conquest. Kate Hardy

strode over to lock his office door and draw the blinds.

      She bit her lip. ‘I know you know about …’

      Her wild past. In a different country. Where nothing would get back to her grandparents. ‘Yes,’ he said softly.

      ‘But I’ve never …’ She shook her head.

      And suddenly he knew why she was holding back. ‘You’re not a tart, Caz,’ he said, keeping his voice gentle. ‘You’re a beautiful, incredibly sexy woman, and I love the fact that you’re so responsive to me.’

      ‘You think I’m so uninhibited, I’d put on a show for you.’ She looked close to tears.

      ‘No.’ He drew her close. ‘It’s a guy thing. I love the idea that you touch yourself and think of me when I’m not with you. And right now I’m as turned on as hell.’ He shifted so that she could feel the evidence for herself. ‘I’ve got all these pictures in my head. Except they’re not enough. Not when you’re here with me. I want to see you for myself.’

      He brushed a kiss against her mouth. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I’ve had to resort to my own right hand, too.’

      ‘You touch yourself and think of me?’ she whispered.

      ‘Yeah.’ His voice sounded rusty as he confessed to her. ‘Since you ask, in the shower, this morning.’ He paused. ‘And not just this morning, either.’

      She looked shocked for a moment—and then more than a little pleased.

      ‘See? You’re thinking the same thing, now.’

      ‘I … Yes,’ she admitted.

      ‘This is just between you and me.’ He caught her lower lip between his. ‘I want you naked. And, yeah, I want you uninhibited. Not because I think you’re easy, but because I think you’re the most sensual woman I’ve ever met. And nobody’s ever turned me on as much as you do.’

      She said nothing, but she made no protest when he peeled off her strappy top and dropped it on the floor next to her. Or when he unzipped her jeans and pushed the soft denim over her hips, easing her jeans down until they pooled at her feet. Wearing only her bra and knickers, she stood before him.

      ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said, and stole another kiss. ‘So will you show me what happens when you imagine me touching you?’

      She closed her eyes. For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse—and then she slid one hand between her legs. Slowly, almost shyly, she leaned back against his desk and began to stroke herself.

      Dante lasted a minute, if that, before dropping to his knees in front of her, ripping off the lacy confection of her knickers—because they were in the way and he couldn’t wait to take them off properly—and copying the movements of her hand with his tongue.

      She whimpered and slid her hands into his hair, urging him on.

      He teased her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, until he felt her knees buckle slightly. He pushed a finger inside her, gratified when she rocked her pelvis against him to draw him deeper. And then he teased her clitoris a bit more, feeling her tighten round him with every stroke of his tongue. When he felt her shudder, he drew her clitoris into his mouth and sucked. Hard.

      ‘Dante.’ His name was a tortured whisper—and he felt the convulsions rip through her. He waited until the aftershocks had died down, then straightened up.

      ‘You look pleased with yourself,’ she said, her tone waspish.

      Probably because he was still fully clothed and she was wearing one tiny bit of lace, and she was embarrassed to have lost her control completely under his touch. He grinned. ‘Of course I’m pleased with myself. You just came in my mouth.’

      ‘Dante!’ Again, her face turned beetroot.

      He laughed. ‘I love this side of you, Caz—when you try to be a bad girl.’

      She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘What do you mean, try?’

      ‘Because you’re not a bad girl.’

      ‘Even though—’

      ‘Forget about London. It doesn’t matter. It’s not who you are.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘And you’re so gorgeous, you drive me a little bit crazy.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘I’ve never asked anyone to do what I just asked you to do.’

      It sent a thrill through Carenza, to discover that she could distract this incredibly focused man enough to make him act out of character.

      And he clearly wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

      She licked her lower lip. ‘Once a week isn’t enough.’

      ‘I know. It’s not enough for me, either.’ He gave her a hard, intense look. ‘But I still can’t offer you a relationship.’

      ‘I get that. I’m not going to start stamping my foot or demanding things.’

      ‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘I bought something today. Something I think you’ll like.’

      Her heart skipped a beat. ‘I’m not sure if I dare ask.’

      ‘You gave me a challenge, last week.’

      ‘Did I?’

      ‘Yeah.’ He gave her the most sinful smile. ‘Come upstairs with me.’

      ‘No way am I walking out of your office practically naked.’ She scooped up her clothes, intending to pull them on again—and then she realised what she’d been too carried away to notice before. ‘You ripped my knickers, Dante.’ And now they were completely unwearable.

      ‘Um, yeah. Sorry.’ Though he didn’t exactly look repentant. ‘I got impatient.’

      ‘Which means I have to spend the rest of the evening with no underwear.’

      ‘That works for me, Princess.’ He brushed a swift kiss against her mouth. ‘But I’ll buy you some new knickers to replace them, OK?’

      She closed her eyes. ‘You’re really, really good at embarrassing me. And you don’t have to buy me underwear.’

      ‘Don’t be embarrassed. I enjoyed every second of what we just did.’ He moved closer. ‘Feel what you did to me.’

      She could. And breathing was a problem again. ‘Uh.’

      ‘And I love it when I can silence you like that.’ He stole a kiss. ‘Come on.’

      She dressed swiftly; he unlocked his office door, then locked it again behind them before letting them into his flat and leading her into his kitchen.

      ‘Close your eyes, Princess,’ he said.

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because I’m asking you to.’ He gave her a lazy smile. ‘This is going to be fun. I promise. Trust me.’

      Did she trust him? Well—yes. Otherwise that encounter in his office just now wouldn’t have happened. She knew he wasn’t going to gossip about her or make her feel bad. When she was with him, she didn’t have to worry about anything.

      She closed her eyes; a moment later, she could feel something brushing against her lower lip.

      ‘Keep your eyes closed,’ he whispered. ‘Open your mouth.’

      She couldn’t help doing what he asked.

      ‘Now bite.’

      Her mouth was flooded with the taste of gianduja, the rich mixture of ground hazelnuts and cocoa butter that she’d loved since childhood.

      ‘Good?’ he asked, his voice husky.

      ‘Very.’

      ‘Better than sex, you said.’

      She opened her eyes and