The Unlikely Mistress. Sharon Kendrick

I want to undress you.’ He moved his hand distractedly to find the zip of her dress, before sliding it down with unsteady fingers, kissing her neck as the silky material parted for him.

      She gasped as she felt the touch of his fingers against her burning skin and the weight of his hands as they moved down to possessively cup the curve of her bottom. Her head fell helplessly against his shoulder as she felt her dress begin to slide down over her thighs.

      ‘God, princess, you’re driving me crazy,’ he ground out on a shudder as the dress pooled with a silken whisper at her feet. He lifted his head to gaze at her, taken aback by the sight of her frivolous underwear.

      It was the last thing he had been expecting—she looked like a centrefold. A pure white lace bra through which her nipples peaked rosy and hard, and a matching wisp of a G-string through which he could distinctly see the red-gold blur of hair. And then there was the outrageous little suspender belt, onto which were clipped the sheerest stockings he had ever seen.

      He very nearly lost control. What had happened to the plain cotton functional garments she’d been wearing the other day? The ones which he’d sent to the laundry whilst thinking that she was obviously of the gym-mistress persuasion?

      He gazed at the slender curves of her body, his hand unsteady as it followed the path of his eyes. ‘You wore these for me?’ he questioned shakily, his fingers splaying over the barely perceptible curve of her belly.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Sweet, sweet torment. You look…wonderful.’ He swallowed. ‘Quite the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.’

      She found herself blushing under that passion-glazed scrutiny. The underwear had been bought as part of her trousseau, for the honeymoon she’d been fated never to have.

      Her worried mother had persuaded her to pack them. ‘Good underwear always makes a woman feel better about herself,’ she’d urged her. ‘And it seems such a pity to waste such beautiful lingerie.’

      Not wanting a row, Sabrina had weakly agreed to take them and had stuffed them into the bottom of her suitcase, knowing that she would never have the heart to wear them. And yet some instinct had urged her to slide them onto her scented and freshly bathed body before dressing to meet Guy this evening…Had she secretly been imagining that shining look of delight as he looked at her?

      He dipped his head and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. ‘Get into bed,’ he ordered unsteadily, ‘while I undress.’

      She slid between the linen sheets immediately, thankful that he wasn’t expecting her to undress him. Why, her hands were shaking even more than his.

      She watched as he slowly began to unbutton his silk shirt, and in a reflex action her fingers slid up to clutch at her throat, their tips colliding with the thin gold chain from which hung a ring.

      Her engagement ring!

      Guy had bent to remove one of his shoes, and Sabrina took the opportunity to pull the sheet right up to her chin and to unclip the chain without him seeing. She was about to place it unobtrusively on the floor beside her when he glanced up to see her shrouded in the sheet, with only her face and bright hair showing, and he gave a lazy smile.

      Maybe he was more old-fashioned than he gave himself credit for—because it pleased him to see that she was a little shy. ‘You look sweet,’ he murmured. ‘Very, very sweet.’

      ‘D-do I?’ Whereas he looked the antithesis of sweet. He looked strong and dark and very, very aroused. Maybe she should have been frightened by his hard, masculine body, but she was in too deep now. Too enthralled by him—too chained by the honeyed flutterings of desire.

      His shirt fluttered to the ground and he left it where it lay with arrogant disregard. But when he turned his attention to the belt that was holding up his trousers, Sabrina surreptitiously allowed the chain to slither like a slim gold snake onto the carpet.

      He kicked his trousers off and Sabrina hastily shut her eyes, only to open them to find him looking down at her, a kind of bemused tenderness on his face.

      ‘You are shy,’ he observed softly.

      ‘A little,’ she answered truthfully.

      ‘I like it.’

      ‘Do you?’

      ‘Mmm. But, then, I think I like everything about you. Your golden hair spread all over my pillow. Your skin as white as milk.’ Wearing only a pair of dark, silken boxer shorts, he lifted back the sheet and climbed into bed beside her. ‘Come here,’ he said softly, pulling her into the warm cradle of his arms.

      She felt the shock of sensation as they tangled their limbs, his bare, warm flesh pressing against hers, and she gasped with a heightened sense of recognition.

      He dipped his mouth to brush against a tiny, puckered nipple. ‘I find myself in the curious position of not knowing where to begin,’ he murmured. ‘Like a starving man being presented with the most fantastic banquet and being completely spoilt for choice.’

      ‘Guy,’ she stumbled helplessly, her eyes huge and dark. ‘So, do I kiss you?’ he mused. ‘Yes, I think so.’ His lips brushed lightly over hers, there and gone in an instant, leaving her mouth moistly open and expectant. ‘Or touch you here?’ A feather-light flicker of finger to nipple which made her shiver. ‘Yes, you like that, don’t you, my sweet torment?’

      ‘Y-yes,’ she gasped.

      ‘Or here?’ The tantalising graze of that same finger over the moist, warm centre of her panties and Sabrina gasped aloud. ‘You like that, too, don’t you?’

      He looked down, losing himself in the black distraction of her eyes, and felt himself grow so hard that he thought he actually might explode. He struggled to rein in his feelings and then kissed the tip of her nose.

      ‘On second thoughts,’ he said thickly, ‘we’ve got all night.’

      

      Guy awoke to the clear tinge of early morning. He narrowed his eyes in the direction of the unshuttered windows to see the first rose-gold shaft of the new sun. The very early morning.

      He didn’t stir. By his side, Sabrina lay sleeping, her arms spread out in careless abandon across the rumpled bed. He had no wish to wake her—and not just because they’d fallen into a passion-sated slumber only a couple of hours back. No, he needed a little time to come to terms with what had just happened.

      Well, he knew exactly what had happened. He felt his mouth dry. They had spent a whole night indulging every single sexual fantasy he’d ever had—and a few more besides. As if there were infinite variations and dimensions to the act of making love that he had never discovered before.

      As if the world were about to end and they had greedily needed to discover every sensual pleasure known to man. Or woman.

      He swallowed, his heart beginning a rapid drumming at the slow, inevitable stir of arousal. No, if he woke her now it would happen all over again—and, much as he wanted it to happen, he also needed to think.

      Because, if he were being brutally honest, he’d behaved in a way that he’d never imagined he could. Had just spent the night making love to a stranger. To a woman who was beautiful, intelligent and engaging—but a stranger nonetheless.

      He gazed again at the sky, which was now being pierced by a soft apricot light, and his mouth hardened. He was old enough and experienced enough to know that what had happened between them last night was rare. And yet he’d been reckless, out of control. He’d enjoyed it, yes, but that didn’t mean he approved of his actions.

      ‘Mmm!’ Beneath the sheet, Sabrina stretched her body sleepily.

      Guy felt his heart rate increase as he looked down at the perfect outline of her slender body and felt the stirrings of desire spring into full and vibrant life. ‘And “mmm” to you, too,’ he said softly.

      Sabrina opened her eyes and felt impaled by that