Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) Natalie Anderson (that summer book .txt) 📖

She didn’t know how to answer him. And then she simply couldn’t, as with care and heat and wicked intent he slowly pulled the zip of her coveralls the rest of the way down to reveal her body to him.

He leaned over her and cupped the side of her face, regarding her with impossible seriousness. ‘If you don’t value yourself, sweetheart, no one else will.’

‘You sound like an inspirational social media meme,’ she said in a small voice.

At that he laughed. ‘You’re so defensive. Don’t be shy, Merle.’

Easy for him to say. But she was more than pliant, she was willing and helpful as he peeled her coveralls from her.

‘Accept nothing less than you deserve,’ he muttered. ‘You should be satisfied every time you allow a man near you, that’s the bottom line—the minimum of what you should get from your lover.’

She didn’t want to think about being with someone else in the future.

He, too, suddenly looked serious. ‘Your body is for savouring, for worshipping,’ he muttered, and the lowest of growls escaped him. ‘It’s for me.’

The determination in his gaze, that glittering assurance of so much more, melted her.

‘I’m going to kiss every inch of you, Merle.’ It was half seeking permission, half savage promise.

She could barely nod, she could only enjoy as that tension swirling inside built. More than curiosity, more than yearning, it became hunger. Fierce, impatient hunger. Unclipping her bra, he tossed it to the side to leave her clad only in her plain black briefs. He returned to kissing her—teasing one tight nipple with his tongue while torturing the other with the tips of his too-clever fingers. Then he slowly pushed the panties down her legs, until she was completely bared. Despite that overwhelming heat, now there was vulnerability and her shyness returned. She’d never been naked in front of a man before. She wanted to pull up the sheet to cover her. But the only covering she received was Ash himself. He lay beside her, one leg across hers, his hand splayed across her stomach. His fingers loosely skittered over her skin, helping to ground her. Yet still rousing her. She looked into his eyes and knew what he wanted to do. And she wanted to let him.

With infinite patience he kissed her. Starting again. Melting away every one of those last inhibitions and shreds of self-consciousness. Slowly he kissed every speck of her skin, gently, hungrily working his way to her most private places. Until she was no longer shy, until she was aching for him to reach the destination that was now slick with anticipation for his touch. For his tongue. For the gorgeously wanton way she knew he’d make her feel. Where before she’d thought she wanted a sheet to cover her, now she didn’t care. She was so hot, writhing in pursuit of more of the ecstasy he’d given her before. She was suffering such wicked delight beneath the ministrations of his hands and lips and teasing hot breath. But she trusted him with her body. With every intimacy.

He kissed her until she moaned, breathless and hot and aching in all those secret parts he’d stirred to life. Her hips lifted and his hands swept over them—heavy and sure, and kisses followed. Merle closed her eyes. Even the flickering candlelight was now too much to handle. All she could do was focus on the sensations as he licked and nibbled her with the most torturous slow rhythm that was utterly relentless, utterly rapacious. She gasped as the tension within—the tension he’d roused—finally snapped, tossing her once more into shuddering, fantastic ecstasy. Longer this time. Sharper. She had to scream through it.

He gently kissed her back to calmness. And then he pulled her past it to a place where she was restless again, where there was an ache, an unfinished sensation. This wasn’t enough. Not yet.

He looked into her eyes and obviously saw the silent wish. He moved off the bed and shoved his swim shorts down. Finally. Even all those hours she’d seen him in little else had not prepared her for the impressive, erotic vision of him before her now. His skin was smooth and glittered slightly as the sheen of sweat caught the candlelight. That time beneath the sun had tanned him and it emphasised the fabulous bulges and dips of every hewn muscle. She began to tremble as her whole body ached with recognition and longing. He caught her gaze, held it—and her—transfixed. A half-smile curved and he returned to brace himself beside her on the bed.

‘You’re sure about this?’ His fingers teased up her thigh.

If she hadn’t been before she certainly was now. ‘Yes. Please. So sure.’

He was as breathless as she and he held her with such reverence. As if there was nothing in the world he wanted more than this. Thoughtful, teasing deliberation preceded every touch. He was so damned careful, so responsive to her reactions. She shifted beneath him restlessly as he took his sweet, savage time to stir her all over again. She didn’t want him to be restrained, determined to make it special for her because of her inexperience. He probably wasn’t, of course. He’d be this considerate with any lover. Because it was the way he was. His innate courtesy lay beneath the teasing playboy persona. He was multi-faceted—with depths he didn’t usually like to display. That realisation peeled away something else within her. He’d bared more than just her body. He had her heart in his hands too. Suddenly she was so vulnerable, so exposed, so much more than physically.

He paused. ‘You okay?’ Somehow he’d sensed the shift within her. ‘We can stop any time. If you change your mind...’ He puffed out a difficult breath. ‘Just say.’ His whisper of reassurance was more of a groan.

His awareness, his concern, undid her even more.

‘I don’t want to stop. I don’t