her own desire, her pace picked up, her intentions deepened, her need coiled. Her breathing shallowed, her heat spiked.
He was so strong. So alone. So worthy of so much more. And now she was angry. He should have had everything. She would give him everything she could right now. With a blind kind of fury, she ached to make him feel the way he made her feel—wanted. So. Damn. Much.
She slid up the length of his body, desperately kissing him, stroking, sucking him hard and then grinding her heat on him, until he flipped—literally holding her to him and flipping them both so he was above her...within her.
‘Yes,’ she cried out as he thrust to the hilt.
But he stopped—straining—his eyes closed, his jaw clenched as he fought to regain his control.
‘Don’t stop,’ she ordered, gazing up at him. ‘Don’t shut me out.’
His hands gripped her thighs deliciously hard. She knew he couldn’t resist this for much longer. He shuddered as she moved beneath him sinuously, easing her own ache, enticing him to complete abandonment.
His eyes opened. ‘I don’t like losing control of my emotions, Ettie,’ he grated.
‘Is it losing control of them?’ she challenged him. ‘Or is it just expressing them?’
He was still for a searing moment more. Then she saw the flare and felt his sudden shift. He snatched the pen securing her hair—freeing it into a wild tumble around her shoulders. He wound thick hanks of it around his wrists—literally binding her to him and cradling her head in his fingers so he could see into her eyes, so he could devour her mouth. The tug was strong, but not painful as her head tilted back at his pull—exposing her mouth, her neck, her breasts to his ravenous, rough kisses.
‘I like it,’ she admitted with low, savage hunger. ‘I like touching you. I like seeing you like this. I want you like this.’
‘On the edge?’ he growled, twisting his hands again to shorten the tie between them.
‘Over it,’ she said brazenly. ‘With me.’
He swore bluntly and drove into her, again and again. Ruthlessly, out of control, he claimed his place in her very core—pushing harder, faster, deeper. This wasn’t fun or easy or light. It was the most bared, the most touched she’d ever been. The lump in her throat ached. She’d been alone too. She’d been alone so long, but right now—he was here, right here, literally bound to her. Inside her totally. Her eyes stung because she was exposed—vulnerable and shaking and so damn needy of this. His kiss, his possession. She felt the wild emotion storming through him and into her, only to transform again into something wonderful that they then rode together. He growled again as she arched, pressing herself closer still, wrapping her legs and arms tightly around him, holding him so they were utterly inseparable. His kiss devastated her. Unleashed emotion rippled between them like electricity—a power surge energising them both into frantic, clawing creatures seeking oblivion in this dark, magic world they made together. She gasped as he thrust harder and harder. He was so powerful. And she so complete. All thought was gone, all words. There was only animal sensation, animal sounds...and then screaming, orgasmic agony.
* * *
Leon flinched, suddenly wide awake. It was completely dark. Despite the warmth of the soft woman curled next to him, he was freezing. His heart was pounding as if he’d been sprinting for his life. He’d woken like this so many times in his youth and he hated it.
Despite the pleasure he’d had with Ettie tonight, he was now tossed back into that old torment. That stupid talk had stirred up thoughts. Memories. Feelings.
Fear.
He should have kept it in, resisted his own damn temptation. But that gift, Ettie’s sweetness, cracked him open. Now he tried to empty his mind again but those malevolent memories swirled, relentless. They’d been woken.
He’d kept it all buried for so long—had hidden that dark, incomplete side of himself from everyone. Living alone it didn’t matter, it was easy. But in marriage?
He didn’t want to poison her with it. He wished he’d never told her. To complain of a little punishment? Of loneliness? He’d been as weak as his mother had warned. What he needed was his control back.
He slid out of bed silently so he didn’t wake Ettie and quickly checked the small puppy. It was fast asleep and warm in its little bed. Leon opened up his laptop in the lounge and tried to work. But his mind was fragmented and he’d achieved little by the time dawn finally began to lighten the dark.
He showered, standing for a long time under the steaming jet—trying to relax. He’d get through the weekend, he’d fall back into bed with her...
But he hadn’t even made it to Saturday before falling apart. Having her this close was confusing, constricting...those stirred-up memories still prickled like thorns in a blood-splattered bouquet in a damn low-budget horror film. Reaching out, he flicked the faucet to cold and suffered the pelting icy droplets. They were like little knives, pinkening up soft skin. Those memories surged.
He braced. He’d beaten them a long time ago. Banished them. And he’d banish them again now because he was not that boy any more. He had control. He flicked the faucet back to warm. Yeah. He had power. And he would make this work.
He’d talked about it with Ettie—told her far more than he’d ever intended. Surely he’d satisfied her infernal curiosity at last? So now it was done and behind them for ever.
He’d get this back to the practical, responsible arrangement he needed it to be.
He breathed in and quietly walked to the bedroom to grab some clothes. Then he got back to his computer. Focused. Calm. Ready.
But Ettie walked into the lounge an hour later, looking like sunshine in a simple denim skirt and white T-shirt. One look and he felt that hard-wrestled-for control slip again. Every time he so much as looked at her it was like that thing bound tightly within him was loosened. But it was something he didn’t want released. Not ever.
‘You’re working already?’ she asked.
He nodded, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. To use sex as his distraction again, as she’d teased the other day...
But last night—how good she’d felt, how intense that had been with her...that hadn’t just been distraction. It had been much more than simple, mindless fun. And it couldn’t be like that again.
‘I’ve fed the puppy; he’s asleep again,’ he said after clearing his throat. ‘We’ll take him for a walk later.’
She nodded and sauntered through to the kitchen looking like the sexiest, sweetest thing he’d ever seen. He breathed out as she left. See? He could resist. She’d claimed control, but he had it back. Just.
Oh, who was he kidding?
Only now he realised the troubling truth: she was his weakness—Ettie Roberts herself. His slide into addiction had already started and he hadn’t realised because she felt so good. But she was what he craved—all the time. But he couldn’t use her in that way, as if she were his personal opiate. He had to dial it back. He had lost control last night and he’d not expressed anything other than pure, selfish greed.
He refused to be all over her. Sure, they’d sleep together and they’d have this baby, but he’d pull himself together properly and remind them both that this was just another business arrangement. That was all it could ever be.
CHAPTER TEN
ETTIE WAS ACUTELY relieved when Monday finally arrived. It wasn’t that the weekend had been awful... She and Leon had walked the puppy, wandered around the markets, watched a movie rather than go to that concert—her pick. He’d driven her out of town specially to dine at another amazing restaurant... It was as if he was determined they’d be a normal couple—albeit one with luxurious experiences. She knew he wanted to make this work and she knew he’d be loyal. He had his own brand of duty and honour burned in him. He had everything else too—humour, looks, a bank balance big enough to make anyone’s eyes water. And he was so attentive, always ensuring she had w
hat she needed.
Almost all she needed.
But there’d been no more mad, unrestrained sex on the floor, in the kitchen, in the lounge...in fact there’d been no touching at all until darkness fell. But then when it did...?
They’d come together with a wordless intensity that neither of them had addressed afterwards. Neither Saturday nor Sunday. But all through both nights that raw, unrestrained passion had been unleashed. That genie was well out of the bottle now. Leon had made her moan and shake, he’d stripped her back to pure nerves and he’d roared with her, riding her hard. Again. Again. Again. Through the darkness they’d clung to each other, almost crazed with need. Neither of them could get enough and neither of them denied it. Until daylight. Then they were returned to that beautifully curated lifestyle of breakfast at a cute deli, a walk in the park, pondering his next art selection at an elite auction house...but no argument or discussion of anything deep. And that was why she was relieved by the prospect of work. She needed the time away from him so she could think. Because it wasn’t quite right—not since that acutely profound moment on Friday night.
Now she shimmied into her uniform and brushed her hair into submission, ready to face her first day in her new position.
‘Here...’ Leon was in the kitchen, dressed in a charcoal suit, looking more remote and businesslike than ever. ‘Something for your first day as manager.’
She picked up the beautiful business satchel he’d pushed across the counter towards her. She saw the gold insignia and drew in a steadying breath. This wasn’t some knock-off from the street markets, this was real leather, from a real luxury label. ‘You didn’t have to—’
‘Look inside.’ He sipped his coffee and watched her.
She suddenly felt nervous, because his gaze seemed especially dark this morning—the amber glow was absent. She reached for the slim box tucked inside. Pressing her lips together, she lifted the lid.
It was a pen, but not just any pen. The distinctive white star on the cap told her that, as did the intricately engraved gold nib. ‘Leon—’