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What did he care about the wisdom of this? The implications? The potential fallout? He couldn’t even think about any of that. Not when the soft, pliant feel of her against him and the thready sound of her breathing, altogether such a contrast to her usual smart-talking, insult-delivering toughness, were obliterating what remained of his self-control.

All he cared about right now was the fact that her dislike of him had been largely based on a misunderstanding, and despite all the odds against such a thing happening she was in his arms. Gazing up at him. Waiting for him to kiss her.

So he did. As anticipation thundered through him he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. Tongues touched and at the bolt of electricity that shot the length of his body he nearly lost his mind.

As instinct took over and wiped h

is brain he disentangled his fingers from hers and slipped his hand to the small of her back. He slid his other hand up her arm to the nape of her neck and then buried it in her hair, holding her head steady as he increased the pressure, deepened the kiss.

Celia moaned and pressed herself closer, sort of sinking into him. He heard the thud of her shoes and her bag hitting the path, and then her arms were round his neck, threading through his hair, and her soft breasts pushed harder against his chest, as if she needed the pressure, was desperate for the friction.

When he drew back after what felt like hours but could only have been a minute or two, she looked dazed, her eyes all unfocused, her face flushed and her breathing ragged. Which pretty much mirrored the way he was feeling.

‘You pack quite a punch,’ he murmured, thinking with the one brain cell that was working that if he’d known they’d generate this much heat he’d have ignored the sarcasm and put her mouth to better use long ago.

‘So do you,’ she said shakily. ‘But if someone had told me this morning that I’d be kissing you now I’d have had them sectioned.’

‘It’s not exactly the outcome to the afternoon I’d have predicted either,’ he said, his heart racing and the blood pounding through his veins.

‘You mean this wasn’t what you meant by a ceasefire in hostilities?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘An interesting turn of events, then.’

And about to get even more interesting, if things went his way, which he intended them to because this kind of combustible compatibility shouldn’t be allowed to go to waste.

‘Very,’ he said, pulling her tighter and leaving her in no doubt of how much he desired her.

He felt her tremble and it sent a reciprocal tremble shuddering through him. ‘What exactly do you want, Marcus?’ she breathed.

‘You. Here.’

‘Now?’ She shivered in his arms, the idea clearly appealing if the way her pupils were dilating was anything to go by.

‘Now.’ There’d be time for finesse later. They had all night for long and slow. He just wanted her and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

‘Flattering,’ she breathed with a faint smile.

‘At this point, desperate.’

‘Same here.’

‘So?’

The flush on her cheeks deepened, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes darkened. ‘Be careful of the dress,’ she murmured and he felt like punching the air in victory.

‘I will,’ he said instead and brought his mouth down on hers once again.

This time they didn’t stop to talk. Hands roamed everywhere, their bodies pressed together tightly; they only broke apart to take in great gulps of air before kissing again.

So hard and tightly wound he wasn’t sure he could stand it much longer, Marcus slid his hands over her hips, down, and then round, delving beneath her dress and finding warm, smooth skin. He swept his hand up her thigh, felt her tremble against him, and then he was cupping the hot centre of her through fine, silky lace.

Celia tore her mouth from his and dropped her head back, letting out a soft moan when he tilted her pelvis up and slid first one finger into her and then another. So hot and wet, so tight, instantly clamping around him as if she intended to never let him go.

He moved his fingers inside her. He stroked. Slid in and out. Found her clitoris with his thumb and teased. And all the while trailing his mouth along her jaw, down her neck and over her collarbone.

She clutched his shoulders and arched against him, whimpering and panting. Her hips jerked and he could feel her tightening around him. And then she moved her hands to his head, yanking it up and pulling it forwards, planting her mouth on his to smother her moan as she came, shaking in his arms, convulsing around his fingers and making him burn with the need to be inside her.


Tags: Lucy King Billionaire Romance