jeans. The wintry air danced over her flesh, but before she could shiver, his calloused hands moved over her naked breasts, making every nerve twitch in response. Her nipples tightened as he rolled his thumb over them, her spine turning to liquid as he brought his mouth over each one in turn. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of feeling his rough, stubbly face moving over her soft skin.
His mouth came back to hers just as she undid his jeans. He grunted with approval as she finally freed him. The hot, silky length of him filled her hand. Her heart raced as she thought of him moving inside her. She had never been so lust-driven in her life. Every other sexual encounter paled to insignificance. No one had ever made her feel so alive and in tune with her senses. Her skin was super-sensitive to his touch, to the stroke and glide of his hands, to the hot, moist possession of his mouth.
He lifted up her skirt and ruthlessly ripped her knickers and tights down to her knees. Her mouth was still jammed on his, her tongue duelling with his in a battle that was not just about strength of wills but about mutual need.
He played her with his fingers, gently at first, exploring her in intimate detail, before upping the pace. She was swept up in the moment, unable to stop the sensations that ricocheted through her like a speeding bullet. She cried out as her body shuddered and shook against his fingers, her breath coming in startled gasps.
She sagged against him when it was over, shocked at how completely he had unravelled her.
Shocked and shamed.
She stiffened and pushed back from him, grabbing at her tights. ‘Oh, dear God...’
His expression was inscrutable. ‘We can finish this indoors,’ he said, zipping up his jeans. ‘I haven’t got a condom in my tool belt.’
Bella felt anger shoot through her like a powerful, galvanising drug. This was all a game to him. He had no feelings for her. All he felt was lust. He had ‘serviced’ her to prove a point. He wanted to reduce her to a shameless hussy who was driven by physical desires instead of intellect and morality.
‘You did that deliberately, didn’t you?’ she asked, shooting him a contemptuous glare as she tried to fix her disordered clothes. ‘You seduced me like a common little trollop to prove a point.’
‘I was right,’ he said with a glinting look. ‘You went off like a bomb.’
Bella swung her hand through the air and landed a stinging slap on his cheek. He barely flinched but her hand felt as if the bones had splintered. ‘You...you bastard ,’ she said, cradling her hand to numb the jarring pain.
The silence pulsated with tension.
Bella suddenly wondered if he would hit her back. His face was a marble mask, his eyes soulless. Her gaze went to his hands; they were clenched tightly by his sides. Fear was like a cold, hard hand on the back of her neck. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
He slowly released a breath and unlocked his hands. ‘Is that really the sort of man you think I am?’ he asked.
She licked her paper-dry lips. ‘I shouldn’t have slapped you... I’m sorry...’
He picked up the ladder and tucked it under one arm. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said and strode away until he disappeared from sight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
E DOARDO sat behind the mahogany desk in the study and looked sightlessly at the figures in front of him on his computer screen. Work was usually the panacea for all ills but he couldn’t get his brain to focus. All he could think about was the feel of Bella in his arms. His body still throbbed with desire. It was like a banked-down fire deep inside him. Just one spark of her gaze and he was alight again.
He had made her confront her desire for him but it had come at a price. The look on her face, the shadow of fear in her brown eyes as she had stood there, made his stomach churn. He had seen that look in his mother’s eyes before his stepfather had raised his
His mouth came back to hers just as she undid his jeans. He grunted with approval as she finally freed him. The hot, silky length of him filled her hand. Her heart raced as she thought of him moving inside her. She had never been so lust-driven in her life. Every other sexual encounter paled to insignificance. No one had ever made her feel so alive and in tune with her senses. Her skin was super-sensitive to his touch, to the stroke and glide of his hands, to the hot, moist possession of his mouth.
He lifted up her skirt and ruthlessly ripped her knickers and tights down to her knees. Her mouth was still jammed on his, her tongue duelling with his in a battle that was not just about strength of wills but about mutual need.
He played her with his fingers, gently at first, exploring her in intimate detail, before upping the pace. She was swept up in the moment, unable to stop the sensations that ricocheted through her like a speeding bullet. She cried out as her body shuddered and shook against his fingers, her breath coming in startled gasps.
She sagged against him when it was over, shocked at how completely he had unravelled her.
Shocked and shamed.
She stiffened and pushed back from him, grabbing at her tights. ‘Oh, dear God...’
His expression was inscrutable. ‘We can finish this indoors,’ he said, zipping up his jeans. ‘I haven’t got a condom in my tool belt.’
Bella felt anger shoot through her like a powerful, galvanising drug. This was all a game to him. He had no feelings for her. All he felt was lust. He had ‘serviced’ her to prove a point. He wanted to reduce her to a shameless hussy who was driven by physical desires instead of intellect and morality.
‘You did that deliberately, didn’t you?’ she asked, shooting him a contemptuous glare as she tried to fix her disordered clothes. ‘You seduced me like a common little trollop to prove a point.’
‘I was right,’ he said with a glinting look. ‘You went off like a bomb.’
Bella swung her hand through the air and landed a stinging slap on his cheek. He barely flinched but her hand felt as if the bones had splintered. ‘You...you bastard ,’ she said, cradling her hand to numb the jarring pain.
The silence pulsated with tension.
Bella suddenly wondered if he would hit her back. His face was a marble mask, his eyes soulless. Her gaze went to his hands; they were clenched tightly by his sides. Fear was like a cold, hard hand on the back of her neck. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
He slowly released a breath and unlocked his hands. ‘Is that really the sort of man you think I am?’ he asked.
She licked her paper-dry lips. ‘I shouldn’t have slapped you... I’m sorry...’
He picked up the ladder and tucked it under one arm. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said and strode away until he disappeared from sight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
E DOARDO sat behind the mahogany desk in the study and looked sightlessly at the figures in front of him on his computer screen. Work was usually the panacea for all ills but he couldn’t get his brain to focus. All he could think about was the feel of Bella in his arms. His body still throbbed with desire. It was like a banked-down fire deep inside him. Just one spark of her gaze and he was alight again.
He had made her confront her desire for him but it had come at a price. The look on her face, the shadow of fear in her brown eyes as she had stood there, made his stomach churn. He had seen that look in his mother’s eyes before his stepfather had raised his
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