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He studied her face, and ignored his heart. He listened to her words and ignored his thoughts. Was it right? Was it wrong? Hendrix sure as hell didn’t know. He only knew he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to stop it. “You’re nervous.”
Her eyes lifted to his. “Yes.”
A simple admission, so sweet for its profound honesty. His hands were dark against her skin. He curved them over her shoulders, and ran them the length of her arms. “Don’t be.” He unhooked her bra and discarded it, almost groaning at the sight of her breasts as they spilled out of the fabric. He cupped them in his palms, and stroked her sensitive flesh. “Don’t be nervous. Don’t think. Just feel.” He lowered his mouth to the base of her neck and nipped the flesh there. “Just feel this.” He walked forwards, nudging her back, until her legs connected with the bed and she fell against the soft mattress. She giggled quietly in surprise and he kissed her, purely to silence her.
“Hush,” he threatened, running a finger between the valley of her breasts.
She nodded, her expression mockingly seriou
s.
“I mean it, Chloe. Don’t wake her.”
Her smile was pure seduction, though Hendrix knew Chloe didn’t realise it. “Then don’t make me laugh.”
“Oh, I don’t intend to.” He slid a finger between her legs, his eyes searing into hers as sensations tripped through her body. She was trembling instantly, the panic in her face obvious as the tumult of feeling overtook every shred of rational thought she possessed.
“Hendrix,” she moaned, lifting her feet onto the bed and arching her back. She dug her nails into his smooth skin and cried out softly as he teased her with his touch.
Her skin was like satin. He ran his tongue along her sweet curves, tasting her and worshipping her. Goosebumps danced on her flesh and she danced beneath him; her hips moved in time to the music he was creating. And he felt it, too.
The need to bury himself in her was impossible to ignore. Any wish to take things slowly evaporated the moment she began to tip over into an intense orgasm. She stared at him as though he was an absolute marvel; her whole face changed, and her eyes shone.
He paused only long enough to protect them from any complications, and then he plunged deeply into her, pushing through her moist tightness. He felt her body respond to his invasion, and forced himself to wait. To seek reassurance that his unfamiliar presence was okay with her.
“Please,” she whispered against his ear, digging her fingernails into his toned buttocks. She pushed her hips up, inviting him in further, and he groaned as he thrust into her completely. Again and again, he moved within her, and his mouth stayed on hers. His tongue lashed hers, echoing the movements of his whole body. His hands were captive to her breasts; or was it the other way around? His fingers sought to cover every inch of her, delighting her nipples to the point of pain.
She wrapped her legs around him when it became too much to handle, and pressed her mouth against his shoulder to stop from crying out. But the lack of noise didn’t reflect the emotion Chloe was feeling. Her whole body was tingling from the way he made her feel. It was so much better than it had been the other night.
Then, they hadn’t slept together, but she had thought he’d shown her new heights of pleasure and want. And he had. But nothing compared to this. For as long as she lived, Chloe knew she would never tire of that sensation.
Just as her breath began to slow, he moved again, and again, stoking the flames anew.
“How can I feel more?” She begged softly, unable to believe that her nerve endings were ramping up for yet another slow, excruciatingly delightful release. “How can you do this to me?”
“We do it to each other,” he promised thickly, fully aware it was true. Nothing else entered his head at that moment, except for the sheer beauty and perfection of coming together with Chloe.
His body ached for release, but only when he felt her come apart in his arms did he give in to his own needs. He kissed her as they soared through the heavens together, his mouth moving over hers when she would have cried out in pleasure. And he held her, afterwards, while he waited for the world to tip back on its axis.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You’re not coming to this meeting either?” Chloe fixed him with a steady gaze in her mirror, as she slid a diamond stud into her ear.
Hendrix, fully dressed and leaning indolently against the wall of Chloe’s bedroom, couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d spent every night with her for the past week. Making love to her, and then dreaming about her, and then reaching for her from his dreams, to make love to her again. And the murkiness of what he was doing was becoming a bog of quick sand.
“No.” He wasn’t ready to make his move yet. The moment he brought the news crashing down around William Ansell-Johns’s smarmy little face, he wanted to know it would be perfect. And he wasn’t sure yet.
“Oh.” Her blue eyes blinked rapidly, and she reached for the other earring, fingering it from one hand to the other.
Guilt had become his constant companion, and now it tapped him on the shoulder, making its presence impossible to forget. “Clint will be able to handle this. It’s a formality, little more.”
She nodded, but she was holding something back.
“What is it?” He prompted, moving to stand behind her. He could feel her warmth through the flimsy silk blouse she wore, and the faint outline of her creamy lace bra was visible. He ached to strip the clothing from her and take her back to bed, but they both had work to do that morning.
She sucked in a deep breath for strength. She hadn’t wanted to need him. She had wanted to stay strong and independent. But now? The thought of facing William terrified her. And she wanted Hendrix by her side. “Nothing.” Her watery smile showed it to be a lie.
Her hair was pulled up in a bun, high on her head. Hendrix knew her face so well he could have sketched it with his eyes shut. His eyes traced her familiar features, and then settled on the earrings she often wore. “Where did you get these?” He asked, lifting a finger to her ear and tapping the diamond.
