Love Storm by Susan Johnson Page A

ripe, opulent fruit was as near to torture as he had ever come.
    The prince dropped the hairbrush and followed through with consummate skill; reaching out to hold Zena gently by both shoulders, he turned her slowly around, took her unresisting hands in his, lifted them around his neck, and locked his mouth on hers. Burying his fingers in her silky hair, he delicately kissed the warm parted lips. His voice dropped to a dulcet whisper as he caressed her rosy mouth.
    "Would you have it otherwise, sweet dushka!" he repealed as his hands slipped down her slender back, molding her pliant, thinly raped body to his hard frame. He groaned as his manhood swelled. His mouth traced a path down Zena's silken throat, lightly caressing the slender column. Practiced fingers untied the robe. His hands moved up her arms until they reached her shoulders, pushing the fabric back and down her arms until the garment fell to the floor; his warm, broad hands set her blood burning. He parted the folds of draped towel, and it too fell unheeded to the carpet. Alex's hand cupped her bare breast, lifting the firm flesh lightly until his lips tasted a rosebud pink nipple. Zena's eyes closed as a frisson of pleasure coursed through her heated, tingling body.
    The prince's dark head remained bent as he nibbled and softly sucked both rosy peaks now hardened under his lips. Zena caught her breath and melted back against the strong arm that held her firmly, luxuriating in each new wave of sensuous warmth racing through her veins. She looked down at the black, wavy hair and lifted her hands hesitantly to caress the dark head. The poised hands fluttered.
    Then Alex's hand, previously employed stroking her breasts as he nibbled at their tips, glided down her belly and slipped between her thighs. Zena moaned in soft surrender and clasped his beautiful head to her breasts. Slender, bronzed fingers toyed with the moist and dewy entrance to her inner warmth, caressing the silken tissue, pulsating and damp with desire.
    The prince lifted his head slowly and looked into blue eyes hot with passion. "Tell me you want me." His voice was low.
    Zena's lips parted. She could hear her own labored breathing. A pink, rosy blush suffused her ivory skin. Uttering small soft sounds of building rapture, she clung to Alex with breathless urgency.
    "Tell me," he repeated firmly, needing the sop to his honor.
    Zena hesitated, her emotions in turmoil, passion overwhelming every rational thought.
    Alex's lips closed over hers; his tongue licked tantaliz-ingly, then plunged into the velvety depths of her tremulous mouth. Zena's fingers convulsively tightened their grip, digging her nails into his powerful shoulders. He shifted his body to hold her closer, pulling her against them. The prince's warm, demanding lips forced an ardent moan. Lifting his head, Alex waited for her reply. Zena searched for his mouth, but he drew back. "Tell me!"
    Her mouth inches from his, Zena breathed softly, "Love me."
    Ah—the needed words! Since when did he have so much principle?
    "My pleasure to oblige, mademoiselle." The hushed whisper tickled her ear, and his mouth met hers in pleasurable response. He pulled her down on the fur-carpeted floor of the dressing room. He was smiling again as he commenced to oblige the sweet young miss. He kissed her throat, her breasts, her belly, and the insides of her thighs. He stroked her leisurely, delighting in each nuance of emotion he provoked. Under his sensitive, skillful mouth and hands waves of spreading desire inundated Zena's senses. Dextrous fingers brought her to a feverish pitch, his hands slid under her hips, and his mouth followed where his adroit fingers had toyed. Zena felt warm breath and a lightly teasing tongue on the very sear of her desire, and she shuddered convulsively, writhing slowly under the soft, flicking tongue as searing waves washed her to the very edges of ecstasy.
    Zena pressed greedily against him, pleading with rapturous eyes,