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His chest tightened and for a moment he had a strange sense that he shared in her loss. That somehow Camila’s passing had forged a bond between himself and Jordan—a connection that ran deeper than sexual attraction.

As swiftly as the feeling overtook him, however, he shook it off. How could he grieve for a woman he’d never known?

He leaned in again and spoke softly. ‘No, querida. She’s gone. But I’m here.’

He scooped her into his arms and stood, and she murmured some unintelligible words and burrowed her face into his neck.

In the master suite he lowered her onto the bed, his brain waging a fierce battle with his body. One urged him to tuck a blanket around her and walk away. The other wanted to undress her and explore every inch of her luscious body.

He started to straighten, but her arms tightened around his neck.

‘Xavier?’

He looked down, straight into those extraordinary golden-green eyes, wide open now, staring up at him, searching his.

‘Where are you going?’ Her voice was deliciously husky. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

It was all the invitation he needed. Planting his hands either side of her head, he lowered himself to the bed and settled his mouth over hers.

She opened to him immediately, and he almost groaned at the feel of her plump lips softening and parting under his.

For seven hours he’d thought about doing this. Seven hours of struggling to concentrate through meetings and phone calls and the usual endless influx of emails and papers crossing his desk, all demanding his time and attention.

He cupped her jaw in one hand, holding her still so he could explore the contours of her mouth with his lips and tongue, forcing himself to take a gentler, more leisurely approach than he had previously.

He intended to have her as many times as he desired—as many times as was necessary for his lust to burn itself out—but he didn’t want their first time to be a rushed, frantic coupling. He wanted to savour her, inch by exquisite inch, to prolong the experience and wring every drop of pleasure from it—for him and for her.

The problem was, while frustration and anger weren’t driving him now, his hunger for her felt no less urgent and raw. Thirty seconds of kissing and already he was having to restrain himself.

He angled his head and took the kiss deeper, dipping his tongue in, enjoying the way hers came out to duel and dance with his, her strokes and thrusts growing bolder by the second.

He felt her hands slide to the back of his head, her fingers clutching at his hair, and then she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, the mischievous nip of her teeth shooting a dart of heat straight to the base of his groin.

Now he did groan—a deep, masculine sound of appreciation that rumbled up his throat.

She was honey and temptation—sugar and sin—mixed together in one soft, seductive package.

He felt sweat film his brow just as Jordan tugged on his tie and whispered against his lips.

‘You’re overdressed.’

Yes—and hot as hell. But to undress he would have to stop kissing her.

Instead he yanked his tie loose, managed to shrug one shoulder out of his jacket, but finally frustration—and the desire to feel nothing but heat and sweat between their bodies—forced him to raise his head.

‘Don’t move,’ he growled.

He shed his clothes, snapping a few buttons off his shirt and losing his cufflinks on the floor in his haste. Jordan was up on her elbows, watching, her eyes growing wider with each item of clothing he removed.

When he pushed his boxers down and kicked them off, freeing the long, heavy shaft of his erection, her teeth sank into her bottom lip and her thick copper lashes swept down and shielded her eyes from view.

He crossed back to the bed, leaned down and took her face in his hands, and kissed her, long and slow, before easing back.

‘Lift your arms,’ he ordered, desire roughening his voice, and she did so, allowing him to pull her top up and over her head.

With deft hands he stripped away the rest of her clothing until she lay completely naked on the bed, and for a moment his breathing stopped as he feasted his hungry gaze on the long, graceful lines and lush curves of her body.

A pink blush spilled down her neck, belated shyness making her move to cover herself.


Tags: Angela Bissell Billionaire Romance