Paper Marriages. Jacqueline Baird

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Название Paper Marriages
Автор произведения Jacqueline Baird
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon By Request
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408905838



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head bent to press hot, hard lips to her throat and lower to her breast, and she arched in wanton pleasure. Her fingers raked through his hair and slipped to his shoulders as he reared up. His hands cupped her breasts, kneading and pushing them together. His thumbs teased the rosy nipples, his blazing eyes watching in rapt fascination as the tips strained to hard, aching peaks beneath his sensuous manipulation.

      ‘Exquisite.’ He groaned and then swooped, his hungry mouth tasting first one and then the other in a compulsive, greedy passion.

      Penny felt the pulsating waves of sensation flooding through her in ever-increasing force. She clung to him, and cried out when his head moved lower, to kiss her navel, and lower still. He kissed and caressed her slender body with a sensuality, a need that Penny had never imagined possible, and she exulted in the tremors that shook his great frame as she responded, her hands touching him, stroking him, wanting to give him the same incredible sensations.

      When his caressing fingers slipped into the soft heart of her femininity, she shuddered violently. Every nerve end in her body was taut with a painful, aching need. She grasped his head and drew him to her, and she kissed him with a hungry, untutored, mindless passion.

      Solo wanted to wait, to make it last, but he could not; he had waited years already and her aggressive kiss, the scent, the wet, silken readiness of her tossed him over the edge. A near-violent wave of desire surged through him and, with an animalistic growl low in his throat, he lifted her slender hips and drove forward into her moist, tight core.

      Penny cried out, the breath left her body, the need was gone, and only the pain remained. The hand that had curved round his shoulder now hit out at him.

      ‘Dio, no,’ Solo groaned; his slate-grey eyes burnt into hers and his great body stilled. ‘No, relax.’ His deep voice caressed her cheek, her mouth as he murmured husky words in Italian, then added, ‘Wait, Penny.’

      He held her pinned to the bed. His magnificent body still linked to hers in the most intimate way possible. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and, easing very slightly from her, he licked the rosy tip of her breasts once more, and then, just as slowly, he moved again.

      Gradually she became aware the pain had subsided, and an exquisite sensation of mind-bending pleasure bathed her in wave after wave of ever-building sensual tension. Slow then fast, pause… advance and retreat… He stretched and filled her body and soul, and miraculously her inner muscles clenched around him in ever-increasing need until she was once more mindless, lost in a passionate world she had no prior knowledge of.

      Solo’s darkened gaze flashed to her bemused molten jade one. She was with him every step of the way, he exulted, the cords and tendons of his face and neck etched in rigid lines of restraint. There was no sensual movement that he did not know, and with phenomenal control he utilised them all. With mouth, hands and body he used every refinement of eroticism to make it good for her, to drive her to the brink.

      ‘Solo,’ she helplessly moaned his name, pulsating with the exquisite torture of his possession.

      It was his downfall. With one final thrust he drove them both over the edge into a tumultuous climax, his great body shuddering violently, the breath stolen from his lungs.

      Penny lay there, the weight of Solo’s body still pinning her to the bed, but she didn’t mind; she was floating in a bubble of euphoria. This incredible man had shown her what it was to be a woman, and it was beyond her wildest dreams. So this was love; she sighed happily. ‘Solo,’ she murmured for the sheer joy of saying his name.

      ‘I am too heavy for you,’ Solo opined roughly, and rolled off her to lie on his back. He was still reeling from the fact Penny had been a virgin, and when he could think straight again he finally concluded the blond boyfriend she had rejected him for had to have been a fool. The thought cheered him no end.

      Deprived of the warmth of the closeness of his body, and stung by his prosaic comment, suddenly Penny felt chilled, her euphoria vanishing as reality kicked in. What had she expected? Avowals of undying love, or at least a little romance.

      Instead she was lying naked flat on her back staring up at the ceiling in what used to be her parents’ bedroom, having just been thoroughly seduced by Solo Maffeiano, a man she’d thought she hated half an hour ago. She wanted to weep. What had she done?

      Panicking, she glanced wildly around and, spotting her sweater, she grabbed it and, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, tried to stand up, but a heavy arm curved around her waist and dragged her back against his broad chest.

      ‘Where do you think you are going, Penny?’ Solo levered himself up into a sitting position while keeping a firm hold on Penny. ‘We need to talk, cara.’

      Talk! She almost laughed out loud on the edge of hysteria. But, keeping her back determinedly to him, she managed to say steadily, ‘I think it would be better if I got dressed first.’

      Solo grinned smugly down at her bent head, his arm tightening around her midriff, his hand splayed under one luscious breast. He hadn’t felt this good in years. Who was he kidding? He had never felt this good, ever!

      ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his voice gruff with inexplicable emotion. Lifting his hand, he ran his fingers through the tumbled mass of her silken hair in a gentle gesture. Revealing the perfection of her delicate profile. She was shy, and now he knew why.

      Solo considered himself broad-minded, a man of the world—he had to be with his parentage, he thought with a tinge of cynicism. He had never been the sort of man who was bothered about his female companions’ past affairs. His only rule was monogamy for as long as a relationship lasted. He never asked about past lovers, and by the same token never told.

      He let his fingers trail down the long length of Penny’s blonde hair, loving the silken feel, the warmth of her small body against his chest, and he had to admit, on a purely primitive level, it gave him incredible satisfaction to know he was her first and only lover. She had rejected him once, but not any more…

      ‘Yes. But do you mind?’ Penny said, grasping long fingers that were edging ever closer to her breast, and trying to prise the arm from around her waist. ‘You have had your fun, now let me go.’

      Solo’s arm tightened fractionally. She was doing it again… rejecting him. His silver eyes turned cold grey, and he withdrew his arm from her waist. ‘Certainly.’ And to Penny’s surprise she was free.

      Not daring to look at Solo, she scrambled off the bed and pulled her sweater over her head, not caring about underwear, and, finding her jeans on the floor, she quickly pulled them on.

      ‘Why the rush to dress, Penny? I have seen a naked lady before, and I already know every intimate inch of you,’ Solo prompted mockingly.

      ‘Thank you for reminding me,’ she said with icily polite sarcasm, incensed by his mockery. In her fragile state, she needed reminding she was one of a legion like a hole in the head…

      Then she made the mistake of turning to look at him. He was lounging against the headboard of the bed, like some great, smug god of mythology, totally unfazed by his nudity. His magnificent olive toned body made her feel weak all over again. No man had the right to look so damn sexy.

      ‘So polite.’ Solo casually slid off the bed and pulled on his boxer shorts and walked towards her. ‘But, sex aside, we still need to talk about this place.’

      Sex. That was all it was to him, Penny thought bitterly, the most momentous, mind-blowing experience of her life, and it was nothing to him. He stood there in black shorts, tall and powerful with the arrogance of a man who had complete conviction in his mastery over the female of the species, his slate-grey eyes staring blandly down at her. Suddenly, amid the chaos of all the emotional highs and lows storming through her brain, the one overriding emotion was anger.

      ‘Why, you no-good, lecherous pig, you deliberately seduced me!’ She waved a hand at the horrendous fake-leopardskin-covered bed. ‘In that bed, and you dare stand there half naked and say we need to talk, as though it was a flaming board meeting.’

      Solo