Nine Months To Tame The Tycoon by Chantelle Shaw, Annie West

CHAPTER EIGHT

HE’DDIEDANDgone to Heaven.

Except Strato didn’t believe in Heaven. As he didn’t believe in love or fate or anything except the present and what he could see, hear, taste and touch.

His lips curled in a smile so tight it hurt his face. He intended to do a lot of looking, listening, tasting and touching.

He wanted Cora. All of her. In so many ways he’d never be able to satisfy himself today. It would take days, weeks, to work through his fantasies.

His smile widened as he brushed her hand away and took control of that silver loop on her zip.

Good thing he had her for the next month. That would give him time to indulge this gnawing hunger.

He’d planned slow and gentle the first time they were together. Instead he watched his hand tug hard, dragging the zip open with a sibilant hiss, right to the bottom, just above her pubic bone.

Was she bare down there or was there a triangle of dark silky hair over her mound? He wanted to find out. Except gravity distracted him, in the form of her swimsuit parting over her bounteous breasts, a little further with each short, sharp breath.

Strato’s gaze fixed there, drawn to those perfect breasts and the way the slick fabric clung to her nipples despite the growing swathe of skin he’d revealed.

He heard a gasp and dragged his attention to her face. Her lips were parted and eyes narrowed in an unmistakably carnal look.

He licked his lips, imagining the taste of her mouth, her breasts, her sex. Her eyes widened and so did the gap between the edges of her zip as her beautiful breasts rose and fell sharply.

Strato knelt astride her, not daring yet to lower himself and lie over her. He might be desperate with want but not so desperate he’d allow this to be over in seconds.

His penis throbbed at the thought of covering her body with his. Instead he lifted his palm to her throat then stroked down and out, pushing the wet fabric aside to uncover one breast, its pert nipple begging for attention.

Strato was a generous man. He liked to please his lovers. Obligingly he lowered his head and fastened his mouth there, shaping her breast with his hand as he drew, gently at first, then harder.

So generous, Doukas! When you’ve been aching to get your hands and mouth on her breasts from that first day!

She writhed between his knees, hands fastening on his bare shoulders then slipping up to cradle his head. But there was nothing gentle in Cora’s touch. She clamped his skull to her as if fearing he might be lunatic enough to pull away.

He smiled against her skin, scented with honey, warm woman and the sea, smoothing the fabric off her other breast. It was perfect in his hand. Gently he squeezed as he nipped her flesh and she made a tiny growling noise in the back of her throat that almost undid him.

Her patience was as fragile as his.

So he slid his hand down her restless body, past ribs, navel and soft belly, underneath clingy fabric to downy hair and a slick cleft that drew his fingers to her core.

Another breathy growl and her pelvis tilted, inviting him in. Strato didn’t hesitate. He slid a finger deep, then two, and felt her grip him. He paused, breathing hard, reminding himself to wait.

But she couldn’t. Her hips rose, her breath coming in frantic puffs, and he pressed down on her bud, circling till she jerked beneath him and cried out.

Her rapture went on and on, tempting him to join her. But he wanted this to last. For his own pleasure, and, he realised, to imprint on her the fact that he, Strato, was the lover who could give her such delight. He wanted her craving his touch. Not once or twice because maybe it had been a while for her, but because no other man could give her what he could.

He stilled, stunned by that alien idea. It was almost...possessive. Nothing he’d experienced before. But he was too aroused to spare time thinking.

Instead, after one last, luscious lick of her breast, he drew his hand up her shuddering body, lifted his head and surveyed his Nereid. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slack with pleasure.

Good but not good enough. He wanted her eyes fixed on him, alight with the knowledge it was he, Strato, taking her to the stars.

Gently he moved her arms, helping her out of the swimsuit, dragging it down her yielding body to bare her ribcage, waist and hips, then all the way down and off.

He’d known she was magnificent. That hourglass figure had snared his attention even covered by baggy shorts and a T-shirt. But knowing and seeing were two different things.

Lightly, not trusting himself to linger lest he get distracted, Strato skimmed his hands over her, following curves and indents. Her waist was narrow and her hips and breasts beautifully symmetrical. And those legs, long and shapely with toned muscle.

He was going to enjoy every moment with his new lover.

He should be crowing at his success, seducing the woman who’d scorned him. But he didn’t feel he’d scored a point. Triumphant yes, but with anticipation. He was too aware of his own hungry yearning.

His gaze flicked to the supplies he’d brought and the condoms secreted there. Not yet.

He pushed open her thighs and settled between her legs, inhaling the perfume of sated woman. But not as sated as she was going to be. One hand beneath her rump angled her pelvis and the other reached to tease her breast as he nuzzled her cleft.

Instantly her legs tensed around him. Her eyes shot open, dazzled and unfocused. They glowed a rich golden brown that made him think of treasure. Slowly he licked, long and deep, and found his own treasure.

Cora scrambled up on her elbows, frowning. He licked again, holding her gaze, and he felt her quiver.

‘Don’t you want—?’

‘Oh, I want, Coritsa. I want all of you. Starting here.’ Holding her gaze, he lowered his mouth.

There it was again, the glimmer of gold between lustrous dark lashes. Her lips were parted, her face flushed with passion and her eyes intent as he stroked her. She looked beautiful and something in his chest swelled.

Her eyelids flickered as he nuzzled, devouring the taste of salt and aroused woman. Her breasts rose, peaked nipples jerking high as he caressed her.

‘Strato, I...’ Her voice disintegrated on a gasp but the sound of her hoarse voice saying his name was a gift. It echoed in his ears as he took her to the edge. Her toned thighs clamped around his shoulders, her pelvis rising to meet his caresses in a needy rhythm, her heat warming him.

Through it all, his eyes held hers, watching as, by degrees, she slipped closer to—

‘Strato!’ The waves of her climax broke upon her. He felt it so intimately it was like riding the wave himself. Except his groin, rock hard and aching with need, told him otherwise.

Yet he wouldn’t have missed this. Not when her shout became a moan of delight, formed around his name. Not when her dazed eyes held his as if there were nothing else in the world but him.

What was this imperative to mark her as his? To fill her consciousness with him so she didn’t think of anyone else?

Later he’d wonder about that. For now, he rose to his knees and reached for protection.

He was so aroused and sensitive that sheathing himself became a test of willpower.

She watched him from slumbrous eyes. That golden-brown stare was a potent aphrodisiac. Her limbs were limp as he settled again between her thighs, gritting his teeth as their bodies touched.

He leaned forward, propping himself on one arm, his erection sliding against slick folds that felt so good he had to focus on his breathing. Guiding himself, he entered, slow, deep and so easy it felt as if they’d done this before.

A flutter of sensation surrounded him, turning into a tight clench that threatened to dissolve his control.

That was when he saw Cora’s mouth tilt into a smug smile. As if she liked seeing him on the verge of losing himself.

Most often these days he found his lovers more appealing in anticipation than actuality. Not Cora. Especially when she encircled him with her legs, squeezing him closer to her soft body. Her hands were on his shoulders, fingers digging tight as she urged him to move.

It was exactly what he wanted, to find oblivion in her sweet body. But he wanted more, wanted her enslaved again to an ecstasy she associated only with him.

Slowly Strato moved, withdrawing then thrusting, luxuriating in the feel of them together and the shock in her eyes as he moved to a slow tempo that took every bit of control. If the damned could find Heaven, he almost believed he reached it as he took them both higher.

He’d known they’d be good together but this was...

Thought short-circuited as her hands slid down and gripped his buttocks, urging him higher.

Strato obliged with hard, sharp thrusts that made Cora gasp. Tension rolled through him, tightening his skin, his groin, his whole being, till he knew he had seconds left. Sliding his hand between them, he found her clitoris and circled it hard as he let go and pumped right to her core, again and again and again.

Liquid gold burst around him, melting his brain while his body pounded deep into that luscious body as it convulsed around him. Fire consumed him. Sensations so exquisite they bordered on pain. As he sank into ecstasy it was with the sound of Cora screaming his name.

The sun was noticeably lower in the sky as he spooned behind Cora.

They’d drowsed, limbs tangled, for a long time. Till inevitably he’d needed more and he’d lifted her, tired but delightfully willing, onto his lap and urged her to ride him. Again that powerful rush of ecstasy hit simultaneously. Again it had been phenomenal, like a charge detonating deep in places he was barely aware of any more.

What was it about Cora that made him so needy? Recently his interest in women had waned. Yet with Cora he’d struggled to focus on anything but possessing her from the moment he’d seen her.

The sense of post-coital well-being far surpassed what he’d experienced before.

The novelty of a new lover? That didn’t ring true.

She stretched and he watched the sinuous shift of her body, skin gleaming like silk. Cora might have the shape of an earth mother, with lush breasts and hips, but she was slender elsewhere and toned from physical activity.

He slid his palm down her shoulder blade, telling himself not to think about physical activity. Cora was tired. She’d fallen asleep in his arms and he’d been content to hold her, ignoring the hard rock jutting into his hip through his beach towel.

‘You’re awake.’ Her voice was husky with sleep. Had she dreamt about him? About them together?

‘I am.’ He hadn’t slept. He’d lain here, basking in the afterglow, caught up in the profound sense of peace and well-being that was so rare.

He let his hand drift across her back then frowned. ‘What’s this mark?’

She shrugged. ‘Am I bruised? There was a knob of rock under my towel that dug into me.’

Strato feathered his hand across the spot, frowning. ‘You should have said. I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘It’s okay. I wanted you. It didn’t matter.’

He recalled the force of his body slamming into hers, his weight pushing her down, and tasted something metallic on his tongue.

‘Even so, I don’t want to cause you pain.’ He was so much bigger and more powerful. It was why he never set aside all caution, even with the most responsive lovers. The thought of hurting a woman made his blood congeal. ‘Next time tell me.’

She shrugged. ‘Okay.’

Strato was about to demand she promise but caught himself. Cora would wonder at his insistence. He’d have to be more careful.

Which meant ignoring his libidinous thoughts till they returned to the yacht.

‘Are you ready to go back?’

She shot him a look that made his heart thud. The woman was a siren, when even a glance roused him.

As if you weren’t already aroused, lying naked against her. Just thinking of her gives you a hard on.

‘You don’t want to stay here longer?’ Her expression and the slide of her body against his sent desire spiralling through him.

But Strato wouldn’t be persuaded.

He sat up, ignoring the discomfort in his groin and her challenging pout.

‘No. Let’s get back. Aren’t you looking forward to a hot shower?’

Cora stifled disappointment at his impatience. He’d rather be on his luxury yacht. Despite his getting a buzz out of their snorkelling expedition, she suspected he’d only suggested it to put her at ease, given how reluctantly she’d agreed to this trip.

Strato Doukas was used to a sybaritic lifestyle of indulgence. Not open-air sex on a rock above the sea.

Her throat constricted.

She’d thought it exciting and elemental, that they hadn’t been able to resist the magnetism dragging them together.

But maybe for Strato there’d been a feeling of novelty? Something different from sex in luxurious surroundings.

For her the experience had felt life-changing. As if she’d never known rapture till today. He’d definitely enjoyed it too. There’d been no faking that.

Yet for the first time, Cora felt gauche. It was all very well getting swept up by desire, but now, naked with a stranger, especially a stranger used to glamorous, sophisticated women and every sort of luxury...

‘Of course. I’ll find my swimsuit.’

His arm stretched out over her shoulder, black fabric dangling from his fingertips. A substantial amount of fabric.

For a second she wished she were the sort to wear a topless string bikini. That she were a petite woman who wore mere wisps of material. Then she set her jaw. She’d learned there was no point wishing to be someone she wasn’t. Her body was fit and strong. It served her well. She wasn’t ashamed of it.

‘Thank you.’ She plucked the fabric from his fingers and sat up.

‘Would you like help?’ His voice held a rough edge that sent heat pooling low in her body. Again!

She twisted to look over her shoulder and what she saw made her heart thud against her ribs. Not a bored man thinking of cocktails on the deck. Strato watched her so intently it felt as if he noticed nothing but her. Not the bright sea or vast sky or the little boat that would take them back to his superyacht.

‘Scratch that.’ His gaze dropped to her bare breasts and he shut his eyes. ‘If I touch you we won’t get back for hours.’

His words thrilled her. ‘Would that matter?’

Strato’s eyes snapped open and fixed on hers. Something shifted inside. She told herself it was the aftermath of phenomenal sex. Strato made her previous sensual experience fade into nothing.

‘I don’t want you getting more bruises because I can’t control myself.’

‘That’s why you want to go back?’

He worried about her discomfort? She’d never thought him an ogre but what was one tiny bruise compared with the sexual conflagration they’d shared?

Or maybe what had been so stunning for her was the norm for Strato?

His mouth curved ruefully. ‘Well, it’s not because I’ve lost interest. You have a potent effect on me, Coritsa.’

Cora struggled and failed to suppress a smile.

This wasn’t the sort of relationship she wanted. It was short term and purely physical, yet she enjoyed hearing he found her desirable.

Maybe she’d let Adrian’s attitude affect her self-esteem after all. Maybe that was why she responded so avidly to Strato, because he made her feel strong.

‘Okay. Give me a minute to get dressed.’ Suddenly she noticed how far the sun had moved. She’d had no idea it was so late. ‘I promised to call my father this afternoon.’ To check on him and that those further hotel bookings had come through.

Cora wriggled into her one-piece, wishing she could do it more gracefully, trying to ignore Strato’s gaze on her. When they’d shared their bodies she hadn’t minded his flagrantly appraising stare. Yet she wasn’t used to being naked with a man, subjected to that intense scrutiny.

‘You and your father are close,’ Strato murmured. His tone made her wonder about his relationship with his adoptive father.

‘He’s my dad. There’s only been us since I was young.’

Once more that green gaze shimmered with something she couldn’t identify. ‘Then let’s not keep him waiting.’

Strato held out his hand and pulled her up against him. Cora felt that jangle of awareness as their bodies brushed, even though the bones in her legs had jellied from so much pleasure.

His slow smile told her he recognised how she felt. Understanding mixed with smugness and a hint of promise. ‘Maybe you should rest when we return. Because I’d like to spend the whole night with you.’