Swept Away By The Seductive Stranger

‘How about we get horizontal?’ he suggested, his lips buzzing her neck, his big hands anchored to the small of her back. ‘Before we injure ourselves?’

Felicity laughed at the imagery of them being found by Donald in the morning sprawled on the floor, her still half-naked.

God, this was totally insane.

She couldn’t believe she was doing it. Getting down and dirty in her train compartment with a comparative stranger.

It was exciting and titillating and scandalous and there was nothing she wanted more.

She slid her hands onto his and eased them off her, keeping hold of him as she walked backwards the two paces required to reach her bed. The backs of her thighs hit her mattress and she sat down, looking up at him, their hands still joined.

She eased her legs apart slightly and was thrilled when he stepped between them. He released himself from her grip and cupped her face with both of his hands.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he murmured.

‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ There was a classic beauty to the angle of his jaw, the blade of his cheek, the cut of his mouth.

Lordy, that mouth.

He smiled, his fingers burrowing into her hair. ‘Lie back.’

Felicity shook her head as her gaze zeroed in on his fly, which was, most conveniently, at eye level. ‘Soon,’ she muttered, reaching out to walk her fingers along the thick bulge testing the strength of his zipper.

He sucked in a breath and a dizzying hit of sexual power surged through her system.

‘I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ he said, but the subtle increase in pressure through his finger pads on her scalp betrayed his true desire.

‘You don’t like?’ she asked, blinking up at him with as much innocence as she could muster.

‘Oh, no,’ he said with a shaky laugh. ‘I like. Probably won’t last too long, though. It’s been...a bit of a dry spell.’

Felicity didn’t understand why that titbit of information should make her so happy, but it did. She liked the idea of being the one to break his drought.

He was breaking hers after all.

‘Just a little taste.’ She smiled as she reached for his belt buckle.

He dropped his hands and let her have her way. Triumph pulsed through her system, rich and heady, quickening her heartbeat and tingling at the juncture of her thighs.

Her hands trembled as she undid his belt then popped the button. She glanced at him as her fingers toyed with the zipper tab. He was watching her, his eyes hooded, his mouth full and brooding.

She couldn’t wait to feel it on her again. Her mouth. Her neck. Her breasts.

Lower.

But for now it was her turn. Her mouth.

Felicity’s pulse tripped as she slid the zip down and the fabric peeled back to reveal his impressive girth stretching the limits of his briefs. She looked up at him, her pulse skipping a beat to find him still watching her intently. Locking her gaze with his, she slid a hand up his thigh, inside his underwear and grasped the steely length of his erection.

He shut his eyes and groaned as she pulled it free. The sound was low and needy, sluicing over her like warm rain. His hand slid onto her shoulder and squeezed before his eyes drifted open again.

She made sure he was focusing on her before she transferred her attention to the solid weight of him in her palm and thanked whoever was the patron saint of trains for that strip of light at the bottom of the door allowing her a visual she was never going to forget.

He was big and hard and perfect. Thick and long. And for tonight—what was left of it—hers.

She leaned forward, placed her lips against the rigid perfection of him, kissing him there like he had first kissed her. Slowly and gently, testing things out, discovering his contours and the heady aroma of him, teasing him a little with her light kisses.

It wasn’t until his quad started to tremble beneath her palm that she realised the level of control he was exercising. She glanced at him, seeing it in the taut planes of his face, feeling it in his grip on her shoulder. So she shut her eyes and let him have it all, leaning forward, pleasuring him with her mouth, taking him in as far as she could.

‘Yes-s-s,’ he hissed, sliding both hands into her hair. ‘Yes.’

His gratification spurred her on and she went harder, revelling in the husky timbre of his breath and the utter hedonism of giving oral pleasure to a man she barely knew while she was topless in the privacy of a luxury train compartment.

She felt wild and reckless and completely wanton.

So freaking James Bond.

And she was never going to forget this night as long as she lived.

‘Oh, God,’ he groaned. ‘We have to stop.’

But Felicity barely heard him. She was swept away in the moment, her pulse roaring through her ears.

It wasn’t until he said, ‘Stop,’ again and pulled away that Felicity tuned back in.

‘Sorry,’ he panted. ‘I’m too close...’

His forehead was scrunched, his lips tight. He looked in pain and completely undone, looming over her almost fully dressed, still potently aroused but somehow achingly vulnerable.

He didn’t look like a man who was used to that state of being. His vulnerability hit her hard in the soft spongy spot that was never too far from the surface. She’d give him just about anything right now.

‘What do you need?’

‘To be in you.’ He ducked down and kissed her hard. ‘Now.’

The compartment tilted as the dizzying effects of the kiss continued even after it had finished.

Him in her? Now? That she could accommodate.

She shimmied back on the bed, dragging her yoga pants and underwear off in the process, aware of him watching the jiggle of her breasts with laserlike focus.

‘Well?’ she said as she wriggled to the centre of the bed, her nipples responding blatantly to his unashamed gaze. ‘Am I the only one getting naked?’

‘Nope.’ He grinned, immediately toeing off his shoes and hauling his still-buttoned shirt over his head.

Watching him strip was sexy. Him watching her watch him strip even more so.

Felicity salivated at the perfection of his chest. It was wide at the shoulders, narrow at the waist. The muscles of his abdomen were defined but not excessively. Tanned and smooth, there was only a fine trail of hair trekking south from his belly button.