One Passionate Night. Robyn Donald

robe off her shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving her feeling more naked than she ever had in her life.

      Not just her body but her very soul. Both were naked before him, this man who could make her do things and feel things that no man had before.

      He put his mug down and just drank her in. Slowly.

      ‘Beautiful,’ was all he said, but it left her shaken.

      Because she knew in that telling moment that she would do anything he asked her to do.

      ‘Why don’t you sit down and finish your coffee?’

      His suggestion—delivered oh, so coolly—confirmed what Charlotte already suspected, which was that Daniel was far more sophisticated than any man she’d ever been with. Clearly, he was used to playing erotic games like this, in having women do his bidding in the bedroom.

      Maybe that was what was turning her on so much. Not just his handsome face and great body but also his suave know-how; that air of supreme confidence that clung to him in everything he did.

      Hadn’t Louise said this was what she needed, to have an older man teach her everything?

      Daniel wasn’t all that much older than her in age but he sure was in experience.

      Silly of her to waste a moment of the time she spent with him.

      ‘I don’t think I’ll be wanting any more coffee,’ she said, her voice sounding determined.

      He raised one eyebrow before putting down his own coffee, then stripping the towel from around his hips. ‘Best come over here, then, don’t you think?’ he said, tossing the towel aside and lightly slapping one of his muscular thighs.

      Her knees felt like jelly but she went, mouth dry and heart racing, her belly tightening as she settled her shapely bottom across his lap and wound her arms around his neck.

      ‘No, this way,’ he instructed, and lifted her round till she was straddling his thighs, their faces almost level. His eyes held hers as he took hold of her hips and eased her up onto her knees.

      Charlotte sucked in air sharply.

      His hands slid round behind her knees, gently drawing them forwards, causing her to slowly sink downwards and take him in, inch by glorious inch.

      She could have wept with pleasure. He was buried very deep inside her, filling her entirely. She loved the feeling, but was anxious for more.

      ‘What now?’ she asked tautly.

      His brows drew together. ‘Are you saying you haven’t done this before either?’

      ‘Not on a sofa. And never very well.’

      ‘Use your knees to lift your bottom up and down, like you’re riding a horse. Have you ever ridden a horse?’

      ‘Please. I’m country.’

      Charlotte could not believe she could sound so calm and casual at such a moment. No doubt she was keen to impress him, if not with her sexual expertise, then her willingness to learn.

      Her hands curled over his shoulders, her nails digging in as she started to rise and fall.

      What had felt wonderful inside her in repose, now felt incredible. She could not get enough of the sensation of being filled by him, over and over. Those frantic feelings returned, stronger this time and more compelling. She began to move faster.

      His raw moan brought her to a fearful halt. She’d hurt him. Oh, she was hopeless.

      ‘No, don’t stop.’ His voice was hoarse, his face anguished. ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. It feels fantastic. You’re fantastic.’

      She happily obeyed, closing her eyes in an effort to concentrate. But it became increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the tension building inside her. Her belly tightened. Her thighs quivered. Her heart stopped. Then suddenly she was there, splintering apart around him, practically sobbing with the intensity of her release.

      He cried out at the same time and for the first time Charlotte understood what it meant to be as one. They were fused together, flesh within flesh, both shuddering in ecstasy at the same time. She was still contracting around him when his hands cupped her face and drew her gasping mouth down to his, kissing her till their mutual pleasure died away.

      Only then did his lips leave hers.

      ‘More than fantastic,’ he murmured, his eyes heavily hooded with spent passion.

      When he gathered her close to his heart, she sighed a deeply contented sigh, her mind and body already beginning to shut down.

      ‘Enough for now,’ he said as he smoothed his hand up and down her spine. ‘Go to sleep, sweet Charlotte.’

      ‘I don’t want to sleep,’ she mumbled.

      ‘Don’t worry. I’ll wake you up later.’

      ‘Promise?’

      ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

      ‘Don’t take me to bed,’ she told him, sounding for all the world as if she was drugged.

      ‘Why not?’ He sounded startled.

      ‘Not the bed. Not yet. Promise.’

      ‘Crazy girl. All right. I promise.’

      ‘Good.’

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHARLOTTE woke slowly, drifting out of a deep haze of sleep that seemed to want to drag her back and cocoon her forever. She yawned. Stretched. Then, finally, opened her eyes.

      The first thing she saw was herself in the ceiling mirror. And Daniel next to her. Still fast asleep.

      He was sprawled face down, the white satin sheet covering him up to the waist, his arms folded under the pillow on which his head rested.

      Charlotte caught herself smiling. She should have felt wrecked. Instead, she felt wonderful.

      A glance at her wrist-watch showed that it was twenty past ten. Not all that late considering she’d been awake most of the night.

      And what a night!

      If she hadn’t been at this moment looking at Daniel’s real-life reflection, she might have thought it was all a dream. Rolling over, Charlotte placed a kiss of gratitude on his nearest shoulder, rubbing her lips lightly back and forth across his skin.

      He didn’t stir. Understandable. The man had to be exhausted.

      He’d been incredible last night. The kind of lover women fantasised about but rarely ever experienced. He knew exactly what to do to turn her on, and to keep her there. He’d made love to her in ways she hadn’t even read about.

      He made a better sheikh than she could’ve ever imagined. Dominating and demanding at times, but wonderfully tender at others. He seemed to know exactly what she needed to obliterate her sexual history. With him, there’d been no sign of the rather timid, fearful lover she’d become over the years. Any tension she felt with Daniel had been strictly sexual. She did so love the way he had mercilessly taken her to the edge, wickedly leaving her there till she begged him for deliverance from her torment.

      But it was a delicious torment. She loved it, really.

      Charlotte would have liked to stay there in the bed, reliving every delicious moment in her mind, but nature was calling, and so was their lack of time. Of course, Daniel had suggested again at one particularly satisfying moment that he come with her up to the Hunter Valley today. And of course this time she’d said, yes, please.

      If she was still worried at the back of her mind that her newly discovered desire might deepen to something else, her worry was not as strong as her need. Having Daniel make love to her some more was worth the risk of some heartbreak afterwards. Worth just about any risk, to be honest. Such was the power of her passion for him, and the pleasure he could deliver.