Pleasured in the Playboy's Penthouse. Natalie Anderson
Disappointment wafted over her again. Stupid, when he’d given her a victory she’d mentally relive time and time again, but there was something else she wanted now. Something she sensed would be much, much better.
He gestured towards the door. ‘Are you alone in there? Not twin sharing with your great-aunt Amelia or anyone awful?’
‘All alone. Just me.’ She chanced a look up at him then, saw the hint of the smile, the gleam of teeth flashing white in the darkness.
‘Want me to come in and make sure there are no monsters in the wardrobe?’
Confidence trickled back through her. She stepped a little closer. ‘Quite the gentleman, aren’t you? Are you going to turn down my sheet as well?’
‘If you like.’ He matched her move, stepped closer still. ‘Would you like, Bella?’
Such a simple question. It needed only the simplest of answers. And she already knew what he was asking and what her answer would be. There was no way she could ever say no to him. Probably no one had ever said no to him and she didn’t blame any of them.
‘Yes.’
His head bent. His smile was no wider, but somehow stronger. ‘Good.’
His first kiss was soft, just a gentle press of lips on lips. No other contact. Then he pulled away—just a fraction, for just a moment. Then he was back. Another butterfly-light kiss that had her reaching after him when he pulled back again. And as she moved forward he swept her into his arms. Strong and tight they held her and the next kiss changed completely. Deep, then deeper again. The awareness that had sizzled between them all night was unleashed. Her hands threaded through his hair, his hands moulded over her curves. Together they strained closer, lips hungry, tongues tasting. Bella was lost. He felt better than she’d imagined—broad, lean, hard. Her eyes closed as his lips left hers, roving down to her jaw, down her throat, hot and hungry. The fire in her belly roared.
And then he was kissing her sunburn stripe, undoing the top few buttons on her blouse, pulling it open so he could follow the path of reddened skin with lush wet kisses that did anything but soothe. The red stopped on the curve of her breast—where her bikini cup had been. But he didn’t stop. He pulled the lace of her bra down until her nipple popped up over it. And then he took that in his mouth too.
She arched back as sensations spasmed deep inside. His other arm took her weight, pulling her pelvis into the heat of his hips, and she could feel his hardness through his jeans. She gasped at the impact—and at the pleasure ricocheting through her system. He lifted his head, his hunger showing in the strain on his face and in his body. The air was cool on her bared skin but she was still steaming up.
Breathless, she pulled back, her blouse hanging half open, breast spilling over her bra. ‘I think I better get the door unlocked now.’
‘I think you better had,’ he teased, but her confidence surged higher when she heard his equal breathlessness. ‘Because the thing about sex on the beach,’ he added, ‘is the sand.’
Giggling, she slipped her hand in her pocket, closed her fingers around the key. Turning, she fumbled to get it into the lock. He stood behind her, ran his hands over her hips and then pressed so close she could feel everything he had to offer. Her hand lurched off course completely. He put his fingers over hers and guided the key safely home.
Pressing even harder against her, he spoke in her ear, hot and full of sexy humour. ‘We are having screaming orgasms though, OK?’
‘OK.’ She just got the door open and the answer out before he spun her around and his mouth came down on hers again. He backed her in, kicking the door shut behind them with his foot. He kept backing her, but angled her direction so after only a couple of paces she was up against the wall. Relief flooded her as she felt it behind her and she half sagged against it. She didn’t think her legs were strong enough to hold her up all on their own any more. When the man kissed, all she could think of was a bed, and her desperation to be on it and exploring and feeling and being kissed like that everywhere.
His hands held her face up to his, warm fingers stroked down her neck, but he stood back so his body didn’t touch hers. She wanted it to touch again—all of it against her. The kisses grew deeper as she opened more to him—inviting him in with the sighs of pleasure she let escape and the way she sought him with her tongue.
But her confidence came in waves—ebbing again as his caresses became more intimate, as he undid the last buttons and hooks. Shyness overcame her as her blouse and her bra slipped away completely.
He looked down at her, sensing her stillness. ‘You’re sure?’
She nodded, but explained. ‘It’s been a while.’
‘Me too.’
She didn’t believe that for a second. But it was nice of him to say it.
Then her shyness melted as he whisked his shirt over his head and she saw the beauty of his body beneath.
Her hands lifted instinctively, and she spread her fingers on his shoulder, slowly letting them trace down the impressive breadth of his chest and then lower, over the taut upper abs down to where his jeans were fastened. He lifted his head at that, grinning wickedly. ‘Stop that, sweetness. It’ll all be over all too soon. As it is it’s going to be a close one.’
‘Very close,’ she agreed, letting her fingers walk some more.
‘Stop that.’ His smile only widened.
‘I can’t. You feel fantastic. You really do have muscles.’ She marvelled at it. How the hell did a computer geek grow muscles like these?
But then her own actions slowed as she became acutely aware of his—of the kisses dulling her sense of initiative. He was taking the lead and increasingly all she could do was follow. Slowly, so slowly, he was stripping the skirt off her. Dropping to his knees, he eased it down, pressing kisses to her thighs and legs.
Then he stood again, him still clad in jeans, her in nothing but knickers. Their shoes had been kicked off somewhere outside the door. He took her face in his hands again, searching her eyes and then smiling. Then kissing. And with every moment of the kiss her need grew. Until, pressing her shoulders against the wall for support, she pushed her hips forward towards him—aching for closeness.
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