His Seductive Proposal: A Touch of Persuasion / Terms of Engagement / An Outrageous Proposal

He took her wrist and reeled her in, snaking an arm behind her waist and pulling her against his chest. “You’re going to get me arrested,” he muttered, his mouth moving over hers with sensual intent. “I’m not sure I can resist taking you here… now.” He dragged her off the path near a clump of trees. Privacy was still not an option, but at least they weren’t smack in the middle of the walkway.

His erection thrust between them, full, hard, seeking.

Her knees went weak, and if he hadn’t been supporting her, she might have melted to the ground in a puddle of need. No one was paying any attention to them. But this game was dangerous. “Isn’t the hotel close?” she panted.

“Not close enough.” He bit her bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth, sucking until she shuddered. She wanted to climb inside his clothes, rip them from his body.

“Call the car,” she begged.

He smelled of starched cotton and warm male skin. His hands cupped her ass. “I could tell the driver to circle the city… over and over and over. Have you ever made love in a limo, Olivia?”

Dizzy, needing oxygen, she leaned into him. “No. Have you?”

“Never had the pleasure. But damned if I couldn’t be persuaded right about now.”

She whimpered when he pulled away and barked an order into his cell phone. The planes of his face were taut, his eyes glittering with arousal. “C’mon. He’s picking us up in five minutes.”

Hand in hand, they walked rapidly. His breathing was audible and as choppy as her own.

Unfortunately the car ride from the edge of the park to the Carlyle was long enough for only one heated kiss. Suddenly a uniformed gentleman was opening Olivia’s door and they were engulfed in the bustle of check-in. Twenty minutes later, in a luxurious suite that was blessedly quiet and totally private, Kieran faced her, arms folded across his chest. “Take off your dress.”

The blunt command, combined with the intensity of his regard made her thighs quiver and her sex dampen. Never contemplating refusal, she shed the tiny shrug sweater and reached behind her for the zipper. When she stepped out of the dress and tossed it on a chair, she saw his eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

The dress didn’t require a bra, so she stood facing him in nothing but a lacy red thong and high heels. Her generous breasts were firm and high. The urge to cover them with her hands was there, but she resisted, wanting to please him.

His whispered curse was barely audible. She saw his fists clench at his hips. “Walk toward me.”

The distance between her and the door where he stood was considerable, more so because she was naked and he was eyeing her like a condemned man who hadn’t seen a woman in months.

When she was halfway across the room, he held out a hand. “Stop. Turn around. Take down your hair.”

She had tucked it up in a loose chignon during lunch when the heat of the day made the weight of her long hair uncomfortable. Now she reached for the pins and removed them, dropping them into a cut glass dish on the coffee table. Deliberately she ran a hand through the masses of heavy, silky strands and shook her head.

When she was done, she looked at him over her shoulder through lowered lashes. “Does this meet with your approval, Mr. Wolff?”

His jaw firmed. “Are you sassing me, Olivia?”

“Would I do that?” Her eyes widened dramatically.

“Face me. Touch your breasts.”

They were playing a game of chicken, and Kieran had just upped the stakes. Olivia felt her throat and cheeks flush, but she reversed her position and hesitantly placed her hands on her chest. Her voice was gone, locked down by the giant lump in her throat.

“I said touch them. Put your fingers on your nipples.”

Good Lord. She licked her lips, dizzy and desperate for his touch. Feeling awkward but aroused, she did as he demanded, feeling her sensitive flesh bud and tighten as she stroked herself. The sensation was incredible, pleasuring herself as Kieran watched with a hooded gaze.

“Beautiful.” He breathed the word like a prayer, the three syllables almost inaudible.

When her skin became too sensitive to continue, her hands dropped to her sides.

Kieran didn’t move. How did he do it? She was so hungry for him, her whole body trembled.

But he wasn’t finished. His gaze blazing with his heat, he narrowed his eyes. “Go to the bedroom. Don’t look back. Lie down on the bed on your stomach.”

She flinched in momentary fear. But it was a gut reaction. Kieran would never hurt her or make her uncomfortable. This was all about pleasure. His and hers.

Turning away from him was difficult. She knew he watched her, hawklike, as she walked slowly toward the doorway that led into the rest of the suite. Once, she stumbled, but she finally made it into the bedroom. For a moment, she stood in indecision. Was she supposed to turn back the covers?

The bedding was expensive and ornate. Making a rapid decision, she folded back the top layers and lay, facedown, on the smooth crisp sheet. Her heartbeat sounded loud and irregular in her ears. Her arms were by her sides. Ten seconds passed. She raised her arms over her head.

What did he want? What were his plans?

Moments later she heard the sound of his footsteps on the carpet. Nearby a rustle and then the rasp of a zipper. A soft clink when the belt buckle slid free. The sounds of a man undressing.

An activity that was at once commonplace and yet deeply erotic, particularly when the woman in his bed was not allowed to witness the disrobing. She imagined his long, muscular limbs, narrow hips, jutting arousal.

The bed shuddered when he put a knee beside her hip and joined her on the mattress. Without warning, he took her two wrists and bound them together with what felt like his necktie. She struggled instinctively. He paid her no mind.

The silk fabric tightened, and then she felt him lean down as he whispered in her ear. “You’re at my mercy now. Everything I ask of you, you’ll do, and in exchange, I’ll make you burn.”

“Kieran…” The word ended on a cry as he ran his tongue around the shell of her ear and winnowed his fingers through her hair. With a slow, steady touch, he massaged her scalp. His fingertips skated to her nape, the back of her ear. Her whole body craved his attention, but he was set on a course that was drugging, slow and steady.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he moved south, digging his thumbs into the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders. Her spine caught his focus. He ran his tongue the length of it and then rubbed gently on either side.

At her ass, he made a sound, a cross between a groan and a curse. Quivering, helpless, she felt him plump the cheeks, trace the cleft, reach beneath her and brush the part of her that ached the most.

When she spread her legs, begging wordlessly, he chuckled and abandoned the ground he had barely conquered. “Patience, Olivia.”

She felt his hands beneath her hips, lifting her, turning her. Now she could see him, and the sight took her breath and shredded it. His broad chest was tanned and rippled with muscle. An arrow of fine, dark hair traced the midline, all the way down to where his shaft reared proudly against his abdomen.

His erection was thick and long, and a drop of moisture glistened on the tip. “Please,” she begged without pride. “Please don’t make us wait.”

“Waiting is half the fun. I want you crazed when I finally take you, so lost to reason that nothing exists but you and me and this bed.”

It was as if he were a hypnotist. Her body responded to his words atavistically, ceding control without a qualm. But by the look on his face, his control was more fragile than he was willing to admit. His jaw was tight. The dark flush of color staining his cheeks made him look wild and uncivilized… a man close to the edge.

He bent over her, no part of his body touching hers except his lips. “I love your mouth,” he said, tracing the soft flesh with his tongue and sliding through to taste her.

She tried to link her bound wrists over his head to trap him close, but he moved away, using one big hand to pin hers to the mattress. “Naughty, naughty,” he teased.

Suddenly very serious, he kept his gaze locked on hers as he slid his free hand down her stomach and between her thighs. Two large fingers entered her, testing her readiness. Her hips came off the bed, her heartbeat racing as sweat beaded her forehead.

He never looked away and neither could she. All the secrets of a man’s desires were there in his eyes if she could only translate them. Was this all he wanted from her? Dare she hope he needed more?

Stroking lazily, he turned interrogator. “Tell me about the men in your life, Olivia. Who has benefitted from what I taught you back in England?”

His finger brushed her clitoris and she gasped. “None of your damned business, Wolff man. I haven’t quizzed you about your women in every port.”