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CHAPTER EIGHT

HISEYESCLOSEDon her husky admission. ‘And then what?’

‘And then,’ she said with a thoughtful frown, ‘we plan the wedding.’ His eyes sprang open and heat stole into Lucinda’s cheeks. ‘Evie and Prince Erik’s,’ she clarified. ‘Obviously.’

‘Yes,’ he said, but still didn’t move to kiss her. Frustration and impatience leaped through Lucinda, making her fingertips tingle. ‘And after that?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘I’ve told you, I’m not looking for anything more. I don’t believe in fairy-tale happy endings.’

‘And yet you’ve planned a wedding that belongs in a Disney film.’

‘Because it’s what your sister wants,’ she said after a small pause.

‘And you?’

‘Marriage is nowhere on my horizon,’ she insisted. Nor, she wanted to add, was love. The idea of opening herself up to another person made her break out in a fine sweat. How could she ever allow herself to love and hope to be loved back? ‘Until I met you, I didn’t think any kind of relationship was,’ she said with sincerity.

‘Why not?’

She shook her head slightly. ‘That’s not important.’

‘Isn’t it?’ He seemed to stare into her soul. She wanted to box away her feelings and hide from him. This was a part of her she didn’t want to show!

‘Perhaps it’s better to say it’s not relevant,’ she murmured after a beat. ‘Suffice it to say, what we both admitted we feel a moment ago is the beginning and end of this for me.’ She forced herself to be bold and say it, to really strip things back to basics. ‘Sex,’ she rushed out, her cheeks flushing pink. ‘And nothing more.’

‘You really think you can operate that way?’

‘Of course.’ She jutted her chin out with determination.

He studied her for a very long time, but she held her ground, refusing to move away, or to admit that she’d never had a no-strings relationship. Refusing to admit that, in fact, she’d only ever had one boyfriend and that had ended spectacularly badly, when she’d walked in to find him in bed with her stepsister Sofia.

Oh, she wanted Thirio. And she would do almost anything to have him. The needs that were spinning inside her were no longer human, able to be contained by thought and will; they were so much bigger.

She’d been waiting for him to kiss her, needing him to do so with every cell of her body, and yet, it was only when their bodies connected that she remembered she had the power too. She could kiss him! Pushing up onto the tips of her toes, she didn’t hesitate for even a moment before pressing her lips to his, moaning softly as they parted under her ministrations. He was very still at first but then, slowly, his hand came around her back, holding her to him, and he began to kiss her back, a guttural noise of his own thickening in his throat before bursting into her mouth. She felt it roar through her soul.

His tongue flashed into her mouth once, and then again, duelling with hers, dominating her as he had done in the kitchen of the castle. She pushed up higher, delighting in this feeling, relishing the prospect of what was to come, even as her body felt almost tormented by the strength of this desire. Her hands lifted, linking behind his neck, so her breasts were crushed to his chest and she was conscious of every single detail in that moment. Her nipples tingled against the fabric of her bra, the skin on her arms lifted with goosebumps and his breath mingled with hers, warm and frantic.

He swore—at least, she thought he did—in another language, Greek, perhaps, then moved, stepping forward and propelling her with him, away from the terrace railings, towards the wall of the penthouse suite. Her back collided with the cold stone and his mouth took hers again, so hot in contrast. His hands lifted the silk fabric of her blouse, separating it from her trousers, so his fingertips could brush her bare skin, running over her flat stomach with a sense of possession that was startling for how right it felt. Then again, it had been like this at the castle as well.

His hands roamed higher, his kiss grew deeper, but when he cupped her breasts she broke away, gasping loudly, because the sensation was so good that heat and moisture pooled between her legs, and suddenly, her impatience was almost ready to burst the banks of any kind of self-control she was trying to hold onto.

‘Please, Thirio,’ she moaned, pulling at the ribbon of her blouse and loosening the top button. He dropped his mouth to the flesh below her earlobe, his stubble grazing her sensitive skin there as he finished unbuttoning her blouse then removed it completely. His hands moved to her bra straps next, pushing them down her arms, then reaching between her back and the wall to unfasten the clip with impressive efficiency. The bra fell away, and she shivered at the sensation of the night air on her naked breasts.

He kissed his way south, dragging his mouth from the base of her neck to the top of one of her breasts, kissing the flesh there before moving lower, claiming a nipple, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it then rolling it with his tongue, while a hand cupped her other breast and held her close.

She lifted a leg, wrapping it around his, drawing him closer, so his arousal was hard and strong against her womanhood. Lucinda had barely any experience with men. One boyfriend, what felt like eons ago, and some very unsatisfying attempts at making love—a first for both of them. But somehow, her body knew what she needed to do, and that was to try everything possible to becloserto him. They were welded together, and yet it wasn’t enough. All she could think was that she neededmore.

‘Please,’ she groaned, incandescent with desire. ‘I want you.’

But suddenly, the magic stopped. His mouth pulled away from her breast; his head lifted and he stared at her as though only just seeing her for the first time. There was such confusion in the depths of his eyes that desire waned, making space for concern.

But, oh, she didn’t want him to stop! She needed him—this—to keep going! ‘Thirio, it’s okay.’ She didn’t know why, but she sensed he needed reassurance. ‘I want this to happen.’

‘I know that.’ The words rumbled out of his chest, as though dragged up from the depths of his soul. ‘But I don’t.’

She flinched, the denial stinging. Except sheknewhe wanted her. The proof of that was still pressed against her. ‘Why are you fighting this?’

His eyes closed and he drew in a deep breath, as though trying to control his desire, to fight this—her—just as she’d said. Sure enough, when he opened them, there was clarity and determination in his features. He stepped back then crouched down, lifting her bra from the ground. Slowly, he began to slide the straps over her arms.


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance