Page 12 of Passion Becomes You

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‘Shh,’ he soothed as she tightened in shocked rejection to something utterly alien to her, and he caught her shaky protest with his mouth while his fingers stroked the moist, silken core of her, drawing her—inexorably drawing her—deeper into the chasms of desire.

It flowed and ebbed, like a lazy summer tide washing over her until she thought she would drown in its sensual flow, only to feel it fade away again as, skilfully, she realised hazily, he brought her to a boneless state where nothing he could do would shock her now. She began to feel restless, her body pulsing to a rhythm that seemed to demand something more from him.

‘Leon,’ she whispered threadily.

‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘I know...’ And he took her mouth in a long, languid kiss while gently urging her thighs wider, then slid his body over hers.

No pain, just a short, sharp sting that had her eyes flying open on a breathless, ‘Oh,’ to stare at him in surprise.

He was watching her, supporting his upper body on his forearms as he gazed into her eyes, his own face wearing the glaze of a fiercely reined-in passion. He was hot and tight, his laboured breath rasping over her face as he waited, lean hips pressing into the cradle of her hips, letting her feel—know—the power of his possession before slowly, carefully he thrust himself deeper inside.

Then they were one, moving together, breathing together. Mouths locked, bodies locked, and the pounding drumbeat of their hearts paced the growing power of their pleasure. She could feel him inside her, exalted in his pulsing strength, the power of him, the need in him, each stroke, each beautiful silken stroke carrying them closer and closer to some potent place hovering just out of their grasp.

Then suddenly they reached it, and as if a volcano were erupting deep inside her she was tossed into a world of fire and force and hot, pulsing lava.

Afterwards she curled herself up into his arms, clinging to him as though life itself revolved around him in its entirety. The fact that he held her close, said nothing but just held her, told her that he too was in awe of what had just happened. She hadn’t expected it; she wondered if he had.

Whatever. As far as she was concerned, Leon had just given her the most beautiful experience of her life, and at this moment she wanted to do nothing more than be held close to him while she savoured it. Because surely it could not be that good every time, could it?

CHAPTER FOUR

‘ARE you going to move in with him?’ Trina demanded. It was late Sunday night and Jemma had not returned until half an hour ago.

What had gone on in the interim would, Jemma thought dreamily, go down in her secret store of memories as the most precious forty-eight hours of her life. As he had promised, Leon had made that first time beautiful for her. His care and patience and mind-blowing sensuality had left her stunned and dazed.

And it could be as good the second and even the third time around, she acknowledged with a soft secret smile. In fact, their responses to each other became so exquisitely tuned that they could barely look at each other without experiencing the electric fizz of desire.

‘No,’ she answered Trina’s question, then grimaced, remembering the one of several small skirmishes they’d had during the weekend. ‘He wants me to, but I decided it was best if I remain here. I’ll find it less—stressful that way. He goes away a lot, and that big empty house would drive me insane with no one to talk to.’

‘No servants?’

She shook her head. ‘A woman who comes in daily to clean for him, but nothing more. If he wishes to entertain, he employs a caterer. He is surprisingly self-sufficient for someone from his background,’ she confided with a smile. ‘And his tastes are simple.’

‘A Greek trait,’ he’d told her. ‘At heart all Greeks are simple people. We make money by necessity—and because we find we possess a rather good knack for doing so,’ he’d added with a grin. ‘But I live in a world constantly filled with people. People who are in constant demand of my attention, my thoughts, my time. When I come home I want only to answer to myself. Servants fussing around me would spoil that.’

‘And so would a lover,’ she’d pointed out. ‘So I am right to remain in my own flat.’

He’d frowned at her when she’d said that, as if he wanted to argue—then changed his mind, pulling her towards him and kissing the top of her head. ‘Perhaps you are at that,’ he’d agreed. ‘Except the weekends,’ he’d added firmly, ‘when you will arrive here directly from work on Friday and remain until Sunday night. And I will buy you a wardrobe of exquis

ite clothes so you won’t have to waste time packing and unpacking.’

Which had begun the next small skirmish—or maybe it wasn’t so small, she mused as she sat there on the lumpy old sofa after enjoying a day of sinking into luxurious feather.

‘No wardrobe,’ she’d refused. ‘And no more presents, Leon,’ she’d added, going to dig out the reason she had actually decided to meet him the night before, and handing the plastic carrier bag to him. ‘You take me as I am—nine-carat-gold jewellery, off-the-peg clothes and all—or not at all, but I don’t want any more...gifts.’

He stared down at the plastic bag for a moment before silently opening it up. Out fell the velvet boxes.

‘I don’t want you to buy me things,’ she explained huskily when he didn’t say a single word. ‘When you do, it makes me feel...’ She paused, searching for the right word which wouldn’t offend.

He provided it. ‘Cheap?’ he clipped.

‘Inadequate,’ she amended. ‘I can’t match your generosity, Leon, simply because I don’t have the necessary funds to do it. When you buy me expensive things, it makes me feel...’

‘Bought.’

‘Will you stop putting words into my mouth?’ she flared, irritated because really he was only stating the truth. ‘You are deliberately misconstruing everything I say!’

‘And you are not misconstruing my reason for buying you these things?’ he countered, suddenly so contemptuous that it hit her that she had managed to offend him anyway. ‘You call these expensive!’ On an act of disgust he threw the boxes to one side. ‘They were nothing but cheap little nothings I saw and bought for you because they pleased my eye and reminded me of you!’


Tags: Michelle Reid Billionaire Romance