As they slid onto the cushions he dragged his mouth from hers and she gazed up at him, her eyes huge and dazed.
His breath caught in his throat. He wanted her so badly, but he needed to know that she wanted what he wanted—what he could give.
‘I don’t do for ever. Or happy-ever-after. This is about now. About you and me. If you’re hoping for something more than that—’
In answer, she looped her arm about his neck, gripping him tightly. ‘Stop talking and kiss me,’ she whispered, her fingers tugging at his arms, his shirt, his belt.
He knew that relief must be showing on his face, but for once he didn’t care that he’d shown his true feelings. She had said what he wanted to hear and, lowering his mouth, he kissed her fiercely. As her lips parted he caught hold of the front of her blouse and tugged it loose.
Instantly he felt his groin harden. For a moment his eyes fed hungrily on the soft, pale curve of her stomach, and the small rounded breasts in the black lace bra.
She was beautiful—every bit as beautiful as he’d imagined.
And he couldn’t wait a moment longer.
Leaning forward, he fumbled with the fastening of her bra and it was gone. Then he lowered his mouth to her bare breast, feeling the nipple harden beneath his tongue.
Nola whimpered. His tongue was pulling her upwards. She felt as if she was floating; her blood was lighter than air.
Helplessly, she let her head fall back, arching her spine so that her hips were pressing against his thighs. Her head was spinning, her body so hot and tight with need that she hardly knew who she was. All she knew was that she wanted him—wanted to feel him on her and in her.
She couldn’t fight it anymore—couldn’t fight herself.
Desperately she squirmed beneath him, freeing him with her fingers. She heard him groan, then a choking sound deep in his throat as she slid her hand around his erection.
For a moment he steadied himself above her, the muscles of his arms straining to hold his weight, his beautiful clean profile tensing with the effort.
Breathing out unsteadily, he gazed down at her. ‘What about—?’ he began. ‘Are you protected?’
Nola gazed at him feverishly. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want anything to come between them—and, besides, there was no need.
‘It’s fine,’ she whispered.
His eyes flared, his expression shifting, his face growing tauter as slowly he pushed the hem of her skirt up around her hips. She shivered, the sudden rush of air cooling her overheated skin, and then she breathed in sharply as he pressed the palm of his hand against the liquid ache between her thighs.
Helplessly, eagerly, she pressed back, and then suddenly he pulled her mouth up to meet his and pushed into her.
His fingers were bumping over her ribcage, his touch making her heartbeat stagger. She reached up, sliding her hand through his hair, scraping his scalp. The ache inside her was beating harder and faster and louder, the urge to pull him closer and deeper overwhelming her so that suddenly she was moving desperately, reaching for him, pressing against him.
She felt a sting of ecstasy—a white heat spreading out like a supernova—and then she arched against him, her breath shuddering in her throat. As her muscles spasmed around him he groaned her name and tensed, filling her completely.
CHAPTER THREE
NOLA WOKE WITH a start.
For a moment she lay in the darkness, her brain still only on pilot light, wondering what had woken her. Almost immediately the warmth of her bed began tugging her back towards sleep and, stifling a yawn, she wriggled drowsily against the source of the heat.
And froze.
Not just her body, but her blood, her heartbeat. Even the breath in her throat hardened like ice, so that suddenly she was rigid—like a tightrope walker who’d just looked down beyond the rope.
Head spinning, she slid her hand tentatively over her thigh and touched the solid, sleeping form of Ram. As her fingers brushed against him she felt him stir and shift closer, his arm curving over her waist, and instantly she was completely, fiercely awake.
Around her the air stilled and the darkness closed in on her. Someone—Ram?—had turned off the lights in the office. Or maybe they just switched off automatically. But her eyes were adjusting now, and she could just make out the solid bulk of his desk. And strewn across the floor, distorted into strange, unfamiliar shapes, were their discarded clothes.
Picturing how they had torn them off in their hurry to feel each other’s naked skin, she felt her cheeks grow hot and she blew out a breath.
Finally they’d done it. They’d had sex.