She loved him so much—more, even, than she had before. Four years ago she had been captivated by his perfection. Now, though, it was his flaws that had enslaved her heart, the fact that he could feel insecure and trust her enough to admit it.

‘What time is it?’

She stretched her arms slightly, her eyes fluttering down the line of fine dark hair on the smooth golden skin of his chest to where it disappeared beneath the crumpled white sheet. His hand slid over her stomach and she felt something shift and spiral down in her pelvis.

‘What time do you want it to be?’

His finger was tracing the shape of her belly button, and suddenly she was struggling to speak.

‘Early,’ she whispered.

‘Then you’re in luck.’ He gave her waist a gentle tug, pulling her closer so that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

Leaning forward, he kissed her softly, brushing his lips against her mouth, then down her throat and back to her mouth, and she pulled him closer, her fingers splaying over his shoulder as he stretched out over her.

He pushed inside her, gently at first, easing himself in inch by inch, then with more urgency. He breathed in sharply, his face taut with concentration, and she knew that he was having to hold himself back. She shivered, enjoying the power she had over him.

As though sensing her thoughts, he swore softly under his breath and then rolled over, taking her with him so that she was lying on top of him. Reaching up, he covered her breasts with his hands, playing with the nipples, feeling them harden, his dark eyes silently asking for and receiving her unspoken consent as he grasped her arms and pinned them against her body.

And then his mouth closed around her nipple, nipping and sucking at it fiercely, moving to the other breast until he felt her arching against him. He heard her gasp and, lifting his mouth, gazed up at her flushed cheeks, his dark eyes narrowed and glittering.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘I want to watch you.’

Teddie rocked against him. She could feel the impossibly hard press of his erection, could feel him growing thick, then thicker still, and she rocked faster, guiding his movement, wanting the merciless ache inside her to be satisfied.

Groaning, he let go of her arms, pulling her closer for more depth, driving into her until she began lunging forward, her whole body shaking as he tensed against her, his muscles clenching in one last breathless shudder.

Afterwards, they lay sprawled against one another, bodies damp and warm, fitting together with a symmetry that seemed to her as miraculous as any magic trick. The morning light was growing sharper, and soon they would have to get up, but for now it felt as though the beating of their hearts and the soft shadows at the edge of the room were holding back time.

Lifting her fingers, he flattened her hand against his. ‘“And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss”,’ he said softly.

Tilting her head back, she looked up at him, her green eyes widening. ‘Are you quoting Shakespeare?’

She felt her face grow hot and tight. Despite privately acknowledging her feelings for Aristo, something still restrained her from telling him that she loved him. Of course, she’d rationalised her behaviour, arguing to herself and to her conscience—in other words, Elliot—that the baseline of her love needed no public announcement or reciprocation.

Only occasionally did she wonder if it had more to do with a fear of how he would react.

Either way, it was getting harder to stay quiet—particularly if he added an ability to quote romantic lines to his armoury of charms.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t look so surprised. I don’t just sit hunched over my laptop drooling over my bank balance. I have seen the occasional play.’

His fingers were lazily caressing her hip, and her breath caught as his lips brushed her collarbone. She leaned closer. He was so wonderfully sleek and warm, and the ceaseless rhythm of his fingertips was making it difficult for her to concentrate.

‘So you like Romeo and Juliet?’

‘Of course.’

His eyes gleamed, and she could hear the smile in his voice even before his mouth tugged upwards.

‘Although I always thought there was scope for a sequel, where the paramedics arrive with an antidote.’

She held his gaze. ‘You think they deserved a second chance at happiness?’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’ He stared down at her intently, and she felt her pulse accelerate.

‘That’s not fair,’ she said lightly. ‘You can’t quote Shakespeare and then look at me like that.’

Glancing down at her naked body, he groaned, and she felt him harden against the soft curve of her buttocks, felt her skin tighten in instant uncontrollable response.


Tags: Louise Fuller Billionaire Romance