hoarse and ragged.
She gripped his thigh with her free hand, digging her fingers into the firm muscle, exerting more pressure.
“Harder,” he growled. “Faster.”
And she obeyed because the sounds he made, the very tightness of his grip let her know exactly what she did to him. And she loved it. Loved every second of it.
“Izzy…” Her name was a hoarse sound, his body tightening beneath her hands. His fingers in her hair were painful but she didn’t stop. Didn’t pull back. Gave him everything she had.
“Ah, fuck…Izzy…” he gasped out harshly, his body stiffening as the orgasm took him.
And she loved the sound of that too. Loved the taste of him. Loved the way she’d dragged that cry from him.
His hands were still in her hair, and when she looked up, she saw he had his head back, his eyes closed, the long, powerful length of his body shaking. The expression on his face was one of utter abandon. She rested her cheek against his abdomen, just watching him, committing to memory the look on his face. The one she’d put there.
His fingers relaxed and when he looked down at her, meeting her gaze, she saw something had changed in him. She didn’t know quite what it was but the rigid tension, the sense that he’d been desperately holding back, had gone.
He pushed her hair back from her face in an oddly tender gesture. “You’re very good at that.”
“Yeah. It’s a natural talent.”
Dark brows descended. “Oh really?”
“It’s a joke, Aleks. Man, you really need to learn about humour.”
He gazed down at her, studying her, his fingers drifting to her mouth, tracing the curve of her bottom lip. “I don’t need humour. What I need is to be inside you.”
The gentle touch sent shudders through her. “I need that too.” She nipped the tips of his fingers playfully. “Scarves again?”
He shifted, hauling her up from her knees and into his arms. “No scarves.” Aleks pushed her hair out of the way and bent his head, kissed her throat, then bit the side of her neck where she was sensitive, making her tremble.
“Why not? I like the scarves.”
His hand slid from one hip up over her stomach to cup her breast. “Because I want you to be able to touch me.”
Izzy sighed, all the air in her lungs escaping as his thumb stroked over her nipple. “Oh yeah, I can do that.”
And then she couldn’t say anything else as his mouth closed over her breast and she was lost.
Aleks opened his eyes into darkness, unable to say what had woken him. The bedroom was quiet, only the hum of the air conditioning making a sound. He rolled over, already reaching for Izzy. Only to find she wasn’t there. Puzzled, he sat up and looked around, but the room was empty.
He slid out of bed, glancing at the clock to check the time. Nine p.m. Maybe it was hunger that had woken him up. He and Izzy had spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, doing nothing but having lots of sex before finally falling asleep around five.
Maybe that was where she’d gone. To get something to eat. She couldn’t have left surely?
The thought made him feel antsy.
He crossed the room, going out into the lounge. And stopped.
Izzy sat cross-legged on the couch, the blue silk wrap she’d been wearing earlier swathed around her body like a sarong. She was bent over something, her hand moving in quick, sharp movements. Sketching again from the looks of it. White-blonde curls drifted everywhere, a sharp contrast against the blue silk.
The antsy feeling faded away. Good. He wasn’t ready for her to go just yet. The tournament began in another day, and he liked the idea of her staying on till then.
Going over to her, he pushed her hair over her shoulder so he could see what she was doing. She didn’t look up, still absorbed in her task, but she turned into his touch like a cat being stroked. It made him feel good, so he left his hand at the top of her spine.
She was drawing someone. Someone he recognised. Him. His head tilted
She gripped his thigh with her free hand, digging her fingers into the firm muscle, exerting more pressure.
“Harder,” he growled. “Faster.”
And she obeyed because the sounds he made, the very tightness of his grip let her know exactly what she did to him. And she loved it. Loved every second of it.
“Izzy…” Her name was a hoarse sound, his body tightening beneath her hands. His fingers in her hair were painful but she didn’t stop. Didn’t pull back. Gave him everything she had.
“Ah, fuck…Izzy…” he gasped out harshly, his body stiffening as the orgasm took him.
And she loved the sound of that too. Loved the taste of him. Loved the way she’d dragged that cry from him.
His hands were still in her hair, and when she looked up, she saw he had his head back, his eyes closed, the long, powerful length of his body shaking. The expression on his face was one of utter abandon. She rested her cheek against his abdomen, just watching him, committing to memory the look on his face. The one she’d put there.
His fingers relaxed and when he looked down at her, meeting her gaze, she saw something had changed in him. She didn’t know quite what it was but the rigid tension, the sense that he’d been desperately holding back, had gone.
He pushed her hair back from her face in an oddly tender gesture. “You’re very good at that.”
“Yeah. It’s a natural talent.”
Dark brows descended. “Oh really?”
“It’s a joke, Aleks. Man, you really need to learn about humour.”
He gazed down at her, studying her, his fingers drifting to her mouth, tracing the curve of her bottom lip. “I don’t need humour. What I need is to be inside you.”
The gentle touch sent shudders through her. “I need that too.” She nipped the tips of his fingers playfully. “Scarves again?”
He shifted, hauling her up from her knees and into his arms. “No scarves.” Aleks pushed her hair out of the way and bent his head, kissed her throat, then bit the side of her neck where she was sensitive, making her tremble.
“Why not? I like the scarves.”
His hand slid from one hip up over her stomach to cup her breast. “Because I want you to be able to touch me.”
Izzy sighed, all the air in her lungs escaping as his thumb stroked over her nipple. “Oh yeah, I can do that.”
And then she couldn’t say anything else as his mouth closed over her breast and she was lost.
Aleks opened his eyes into darkness, unable to say what had woken him. The bedroom was quiet, only the hum of the air conditioning making a sound. He rolled over, already reaching for Izzy. Only to find she wasn’t there. Puzzled, he sat up and looked around, but the room was empty.
He slid out of bed, glancing at the clock to check the time. Nine p.m. Maybe it was hunger that had woken him up. He and Izzy had spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, doing nothing but having lots of sex before finally falling asleep around five.
Maybe that was where she’d gone. To get something to eat. She couldn’t have left surely?
The thought made him feel antsy.
He crossed the room, going out into the lounge. And stopped.
Izzy sat cross-legged on the couch, the blue silk wrap she’d been wearing earlier swathed around her body like a sarong. She was bent over something, her hand moving in quick, sharp movements. Sketching again from the looks of it. White-blonde curls drifted everywhere, a sharp contrast against the blue silk.
The antsy feeling faded away. Good. He wasn’t ready for her to go just yet. The tournament began in another day, and he liked the idea of her staying on till then.
Going over to her, he pushed her hair over her shoulder so he could see what she was doing. She didn’t look up, still absorbed in her task, but she turned into his touch like a cat being stroked. It made him feel good, so he left his hand at the top of her spine.
She was drawing someone. Someone he recognised. Him. His head tilted
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