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Oh, dear Lord.

She could feel the warmth of those big palms and her insides flooded with liquid heat and her nipples hardened to achy points. Her mind suddenly filled with a vision of him sliding his hands lower to gather the hem of her skirt before pushing the constricting fabric upward until his fingers could trace around the edge of her underwear before slipping inside.

Eleanore bit into her bottom lip to stifle a groan.

Never before had she had such X-rated thoughts about a man and her hands fluttered awkwardly between them as part of her wanted to place them on his wide shoulders for support and another part warned her that she might lose more than Harrington’s name on the door if she did. She might lose her heart as well.

Normally she thought of herself as assertive and practical—a card-carrying feminist, as he’d called her—but right now she had no idea where her willpower had gone. And it was all his fault. Telling her he wouldn’t kiss her, talking about her bra, eating chocolate cake in her office, watching her with those beautiful blue eyes...

‘Why don’t you kiss me, moya Eleanore, and end it.’

Some small stash of sanity inside her brain asserted itself and she shook her head. He brought his mouth closer to hers and she stupidly feared that he would stop and continue at the same time. He was like the devil tempting her over to the dark side.

His strong fingers massaged her hip bones and she grabbed hold of his wide shoulders for support. His hard muscles bunched powerfully beneath her touch, tension coming off his long, lean body in seismic waves.

A small sound escaped her closed lips and he swore, dragging her still closer until barely an inch separated them. ‘Then I will.’ Before she could comprehend his intention one big palm lifted to the nape of her neck and dragged her mouth to his.

It felt like he had dangled this particular carrot in front of her for so long that when his lips slid over hers in a feather-light touch, nibbling and pulling at her sensitive skin Eleanore didn’t even think of resisting.

Instead she kissed him back with a hunger she wouldn’t have thought possible, her lips opening beneath the erotic pressure of his until his tongue swept into her mouth and drugged her senses.

Eleanore whimpered low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck as her legs buckled beneath her weight. A tiny warning bell rang somewhere in the deep recesses of her psyche but that was about the time he pushed her jacket wide and swept his hands from her face to her hips and skimmed the outer swells of her breasts. A frustrated kind of pleasure ripped through her and made her arch toward him until her breasts flattened against his chest.

He must have liked the move because he growled against her neck and reversed their positions so that the edge of her desk bit into her bottom and it was his turn to stand between her open thighs. He lifted her onto it and then palmed her full breasts, his thumbs going straight to her rigid nipples to strum over their achy points.

Eleanore squirmed to get closer to him as pleasure knifed through her and damp heat flooded her lower body. He must have liked that too, because she felt the cooler air on her inner thighs as her skirt was hiked higher and her stomach muscles clenched when Lukas bent his knees a little to press even closer.

Something sharp dug into her bottom as his movements became more urgent and less coordinated and she jerked in his arms.

‘Easy, moya krasavitsa,’ he crooned, his fingers working impatiently at the hidden hook-and-eye fastenings of her top.

The sound of his voice was enough to break into Eleanore’s reverie long enough for her to realise what she was doing. And who she was doing it with.

‘What are you doing?’

Lukas raised his head and she saw a line of hot colour darkening the tips of his Slavic cheekbones. ‘What? I am being too rough?’ His normally fluent English was nowhere in evidence. ‘Come, let me kiss you. Vash rot tak sladko. Your mouth is so sweet.’

He lowered his head and claimed her lips again in a powerful kiss that drove every pellet of common sense from her mind and sent all her attention to the hollow, achy space between her thighs.

Trying to assuage it she closed her legs around his hard hips but that only heightened the sensation of emptiness.

Appalled at her uncontrolled reaction she clamped down on the sensation and pulled her mouth from his. ‘No—Lukas—stop.’ She arched away from him. ‘We can’t do this. My office...the door...Lukas!’ She shoved at his shoulders and knew she’d gotten through to him when he went dead still.

‘You kissed me,’ she gasped, suddenly remembering their bet.


Tags: Michelle Conder Billionaire Romance