The Billionaire's Secretive Enchantress (The Berutelli Escape) by Elizabeth Lennox Page B

felt them, their softness, the electrifying touch, she gasped, causing her to lean back slightly.  His hands gripped her waist, holding her still, even pulling her closer.  Her own hands were fisted into tight, tension filled balls, pressing against his biceps as if she were afraid to touch him.  But as he deepened the kiss, her hands opened, her palms pressed against his arms, sliding higher, testing along the way. 
    And then her knees almost gave out on her when he stopped the gentleness.  Her lack of resistance must have triggered something inside of him because he was no longer soft but demanding, n o longer patient but commanding.  His tongue invaded, took possession of her mouth and she melted against him, her body going up in flames of need while he continued to devour her. 
    She had no idea how it happened, but suddenly she was sitting on her work table, her legs around his waist and her hands sliding inside of his flannel shirt while his hands were moving up underneath her sweater impatiently. 
    When she felt his hands on her breasts she almost cried out, and would have if his mouth wasn’t covering hers.  But the sound she did make caused his head to come up and he looked down into her passion glazed eyes.  His fingers weren’t still though.  They continued to cause her entire body to shiver, to shake with need and an almost painful desire that she didn’t know how to control. 
    “We need to get out of here,” he said, his voice deeper than normal and husky with his own desire.  “Come back with me.  We can finish this at my place.”
    It was exactly what she wanted, what she needed.  But after the past week and all the trouble she’d had sleeping because thoughts of him kept filtering through her mind, she knew she shouldn’t. 
    She shuddered, wanting him more than she thought was healthy.  But she also knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea.  “I can’t.”
    “Of course you can,” he said and his hand went higher.  She grabbed his wrist, closing her eyes to try and control the urges surging through her, but it was a tough battle. 
    “Drake, I can’t do that.”
    With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against hers.  “You’re killing me, you know that right?”
    She laughed softly, relieved that he wasn’t angry with her for rejecting his suggestion. “It’s better this way.”
    “Better for who?  And if you aren’t coming home with me, you have to let go of me.”
    She looked startled and pulled her head back, then realized he was talking about her legs which were still tightly wrapped around his hips.  “Oh!” she gasped and let her legs drop down.
    He wasn’t as fast about moving away from her and she shivered when she realized what was plastered against her stomach.  She looked up at him, his eyes laughing down at her when she blushed with the realization.  “Yes, you affect me that much,” he confirmed. 
    She was both embarrassed and turned on by his statement.  He was so earthy, taking his sexuality as if it were normal and natural.  She’d always been embarrassed by the idea of sex but Drake didn’t allow any sort of embarrassment.  It was what it was and he accepted that as a part of his life. 
    On the other hand, she had been brought up to think of sex as something to be avoided at all costs.  She was to remain a virgin until her wedding night and even after that, it was implied that she should only have sex for procreation.  It wasn’t stated so much as just grunted whenever her father had even broached the subject of sex.  “Don’t let a man touch you!” he’d arbitrarily say while passing her or her sister Marissa in the hallways.  Or over dinner, “Make sure your dates keep their hands to themselves!  Or I’ll make sure they don’t touch anyone else.  Got it?”
    She and her sister had sometimes chuckled at his adamant stand on sexual encounters, but until this moment, she’d never understood how deeply ingrained her father’s words