The Billioniare's Bought Bride (Contemporary Romance) by Michele Dunaway Page A

The one she’d had just the night before was still vivid. Her body shook, but she wasn’t sure if it was from residual cold or from the illicit thrills his words caused. She tugged Dylan’s down comforter up to her chin. “I’ll pass.”
    “You definitely made some passes, too.” 
    He stoked the fire and then slid beneath the covers. The mattress dipped and Maddy rolled toward him. She touched his bare chest and then quickly wiggled away. She flipped over, presenting him with her backside.
    “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us tomorrow and we’ll have to pack. Get some sleep.” His voice sounded tired.
    Although how could she sleep? She’d shifted so that her back was to him, but that didn’t help. His body heat had invaded the covers. Not only was she warmed up, but she was also on fire. If she turned over, his naked torso would be inches away. She could already hear his rhythmic breathing, and sense the slight tingle on her neck from his steady exhales. Her dream last night had been so real. She’d caressed his chest and…. She groaned.
    He raised himself up on one elbow and tapped her shoulder. “What, can’t you sleep?”
    Maddy scooted over toward the opposite edge, almost to the point of falling off. “Isn’t that obvious?”
    “What, never had a man in your bed before?”
    He pleased tone irked, and Maddy bristled at his cavalier attitude. She flipped over, immediately realizing her mistake. All she had to do was stretch out her arms and his face and body was within reach. The man was her pied piper. “It’s not as if I didn’t have opportunity.”
    “Of course not,” he said, as two fingers smoothed out a lock of her hair, spreading it over the pillowcase. 
    “Stop being condescending,” she ordered, shaking her head and mussing his handiwork. “Just leave me alone.”
    He reached out and lifted another strand. Then his finger snaked down her forehead and traced her eyebrows, his fingertip even lighter as he urged her eyelids closed.
    “Poor frustrated Maddy,” Dylan teased. “Too bad you rejected me.”
    “Frustration is only a state of mind. As I’m now warm, I’m fine. Is it your intent to keep me up all night with your blathering?”
    “No.” The one word was atomically charged.
    “Then just what is your intent?” she asked irritably, and then instinct had her quickly opening her eyes. Dylan’s mouth hovered mere inches above hers. 
    “You really want to know my intent?” he whispered. “Let me show you.”
     
    Nectar couldn’t have been sweeter, Maddy realized as she lost herself in his kiss and opened her mouth to give him further access. He slid his tongue inside.
    Years ago he’d been tender, and this current kiss reflected that. It wasn't designed to possess or plunder. It was more an exploratory start, almost tentative. Yet, it was a kiss designed to give pleasure. Sweet, tender, soft, gentle, but still calling forth increased passion with every flicker of his tongue, every press of his lips.
    The woman she was demanded more and the desires of her flesh overruled any objections that her heart and mind attempted against his sensual onslaught. She wrapped her arms around his neck and into his silky black hair. His mouth mated with hers.
    This was no dream.
    He pulled her toward him using his left arm, and he ran the tantalizing fingers of his right hand down her shoulder and over her breast.
    As her nipple arched to meet his exploring fingers, a shudder of desire rushed over her. She wanted to feel, to lose herself, to forget for tonight the mess of her life and sink into pleasurable abandon and promised nirvana. Forget what she’d said about love. Let chemistry overpower. Let it take her to that sexual place she’d read about, but never experienced.
    But, like with all of his kisses since their engagement, he was pulling away.
    Her eyes attempted to focus and she blinked as he drew back, ending the mind-drugging kiss. What was he doing? Where was he