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And she was in love with him too. In this space that was theirs, that had been found by them.

‘I loved you from that first night,’ Leila admitted.

‘I know that now,’ James said, and so he knew just how badly he had hurt her. ‘There were no clothes, no make-up, no phone number. I thought you were a journalist, or someone that Isabelle had set me up with to trick me...’

His hand was stroking her breast, and when he told her what had happened, she simply better understood that morning now. She wasn’t scared to tell him that he was right, that Zayn’s new girlfriend at the time had been the spy who had exposed their names to the media, just not now, not yet.

It wasn’t needed.

They were in love and he was taking her home.



CHAPTER TWELVE

HE WALKED HER past the doorman and through the elegant foyer and Leila looked up at the huge chandelier and then to a row of brass-gated elevators. There was a gleaming walnut table in the centre, as big as any at the palace, and the flowers that sat atop it rivalled the palace flowers too.

There were beautiful shops and bars and restaurants and there was a very well-dressed elderly couple walking in front of them, clearly back from a night out and arguing loudly.

It was busy, it was exciting—even this late at night.

Yes, Leila loved Manhattan.

‘Meet the neighbours,’ James said with a nudge.

‘Esther and Matthew, this is Leila...’ James introduced her as they stepped in the elevator and there was that pride in his voice again.

The couple said hello and then carried on rowing till they got out on the seventh floor, though they paused to wish James and Leila goodnight.

She hadn’t even seen his home but she loved it already.

To the top they went and he felt that it was important to make one small point. ‘You’re the first woman I’ve brought here.’

‘And the last,’ Leila said, but assuredly now, then she smiled.

She didn’t know where she was; she just knew she was in heaven. A tour could wait—they had been turning the other on long before the park—and he took her straight to his bedroom.

She was shaking when he turned her around and his voice was deliciously impatient as he struggled with those buttons. ‘Can we get zips fitted to your gowns?’

‘Yes.’

She was so perfect, the dress was so perfect, that he did not tear it. He was undressing her as best he could as he undid the buttons right to the end and she slipped her robe off.

‘I’m never wearing socks again,’ James said as he took them off and she dealt with her bra.

And then he turned her around, both now naked right to their hearts. They kissed, and James’s hands took in the swell of her stomach, and the heavier weight of her breasts were finally his to explore. First his fingers grew familiar with her body and then his mouth and tongue joined the caress too. His bed was like lying on a pillow, Leila thought as he swirled one thick nipple with his tongue and slid his fingers into her.

‘James...’ She wanted to clamp her thighs together, as deep within her he found another sensitive spot. Delighted with her response, James parted her thighs further. Leila lay trembling with the torture of it as he explored her deeply—his fingers massaging her on the inside as his mouth suckled her clitoris until she sobbed with the delicious hurt, her hands tightening around his wrist, almost dragging him from her as he brought her to a deep orgasm.

She had been scared to make love for this reason, because he simply owned her when they did, but she knew that she owned his heart too, because when she went to kiss him he rolled her onto him.

‘Get on top—I want to see you.’

And it meant, Leila found out, that she got to see him too.

It was Leila’s second time dancing and this time it was with him inside. His hands held her hips loosely enough that she could move as she wished, and there was nothing crude about this belly dance.

Slowly she worked out what worked for her and he was as patient as he always had been.

She loved the freedom he gave her, the feel of his hands on her breasts as he started to match her moves and lift into Leila.

Leila liked the feel of his eyes on her; she liked how sexy he made her feel and that she could touch her own breasts as he played with the magic spot he had discovered in her.

She felt hotter than she did when working at the restaurant, more breathless than she did when her temper rose.

She loved the hard work of him, the grittiness of being allowed to be herself as she moved over and over his thick length.

He started tweaking at her nipples and in a tease Leila leant forward, her hands either side of his head, her full breast over his mouth, and she found out then that his patience wasn’t infinite because James’s hands were back on her hips and starting to pull her down faster.


Tags: Carol Marinelli Billionaire Romance