Bargaining with the Billionaire: The Blackmail Bargain / The Billion-Dollar Bride / How To Marry a Billionaire

A savage wanting twisted inside Peta and she shivered. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

His hard, beautiful mouth compressed, then relaxed into that shark smile. ‘Thinking is a real problem right now,’ he murmured, a lean hand finding the tie around her waist.

He gave it a rapid, sure tug. The belt dropped free and the front of her gown swung open, revealing that she had nothing on beneath it.

Curt froze, and she looked at his profile, so close, so absorbed, the bold angles and lines clamped into a mask of hunger that should have terrified her.

Instead, her sharp craving exploded into keen torment, fuelled by his closeness and the dark intensity of his gaze on the soft golden curves of her breasts. A rush of pride reinforced her courage; his trademark self-control was shattering in front of her.

He looked into her eyes. Slowly, giving her time to stop him, he pushed the shoulders of the wrap back. The soft material whispered over her skin, licking against it in slow, delicious provocation.

Need savaged her, half pleasure, half pain. Her breath panted between her lips, and it took every scrap of willpower to stand still. At last the gown fell to the floor, and she stood in front of him, tall and slim and naked.

Moving quickly, he hauled the shirt over his head. Lamp-light glowed bronze on his big, lithe body, collecting in pools of light and shadow. The unsparing strength of his desire coiled around her, stoking hers to create a conflagration.

‘Last chance,’ he said harshly.

Peta shook her head.

She expected him to strip off the rest of his clothes, so when he picked her up and carried her across to the bed she gasped.

Muscles coiling, he stooped, hauled the coverlet back and lowered her onto the sheet. Its coolness contrasted with the heat collecting in all the hidden places of her body. Bemused, she ran her hand across the swell of his biceps, letting her fingers loiter sensuously against the fine grain of his skin.

‘That’s not a good idea,’ he said between his teeth.

Humiliation searing through her, she snatched her hand back, but he caught it in mid-air.

‘I like to be touched,’ he rasped, and kissed her fingers, ‘but for this first time, take it slowly.’

He released her and while she lay dazed with excitement because he was planning a future for them, he kicked off his shoes and undid the fastening of his trousers and stepped out of them.

Peta’s heart shut down. Sleek-skinned, powerfully made, he was big everywhere, she thought dazedly—big and experienced—and she had no idea whether she was going to be able to take him. She knew enough about sex to understand that most women could accept most men, and she certainly wanted him, but—

Surprisingly, he understood. ‘Don’t worry—it will be all right,’ he promised in a thick, heated voice, and came down beside her, one arm sliding beneath her neck so that her lips were only a centimetre away from his.

She couldn’t control the tension that stiffened her muscles and dried her mouth, but instead of the onslaught she unconsciously feared he kissed the pulse in her throat, and the erotic little caress eased her into pleasure again. She turned her face into his hair, inhaling the subtle, intoxicating scent of his skin.

Enslaved by his kisses, his slow, worshipful caresses, her mind drifted until all she was aware of was the sleek slide of his body against hers and the building excitement inside her—a different kind of tension, one she welcomed because Curt made it so easy.

His mouth and his hands discovered other pleasure points: the sensitive place where her throat joined her shoulder, a certain spot at the back of her neck. Some he kissed, some he nipped, slowly, exquisitely letting her become accustomed to his touch.

At last he said against the upper curve of her breast, ‘Not nervous any longer?’

‘No,’ she said languidly, afloat on a tide of honeyed delight. If she called a halt now she’d never forgive herself.

She lifted a heavy arm and buried her fingers in his hair, warm from his body, black against her skin. If he wanted to pull away she didn’t have a hope of holding him, but the pressure of her fingers reiterated her need and her desire and her surrender.

Peta waited, while his breath smoked across her skin, and then he smiled and turned his head slightly and his mouth closed around a pleading nipple.

The first strong tug of suction sent a sexual signal ripping through her; her body arched in astonished response, and a note of wonder broke in the back of her throat.

In one fluid movement Curt slid both arms beneath her back, holding her free of the sheet so that her breasts were offered to him while he resumed the drugging seduction.

Peta had never known such rapture. It swamped everything else, rioting through her in scintillating waves, setting her alight and anchoring her intensely in that bed, in Curt’s arms, willing prisoner of his mouth and hands and of the mastery of his lean, aroused body.

When he lifted his head she moaned in dismay, but this time it was to take her mouth, his open hunger displayed for the first time. She responded with ardent agreement, writhing against him, and eventually his hand found the flare of her hips, and delved further into the place that ached for him.

Peta pressed against that seeking hand, gasping when he set up a rhythm, gasping even more when his fingers entered her in a simulation of the intimacy she needed so desperately.

‘Please,’ she muttered helplessly into his neck. ‘Oh, please…’

‘You don’t need to ask,’ he said, his voice abrasive with barely leashed hunger. ‘I’m more than willing to please you.’

He positioned himself over her; she looked up into molten eyes and a face drawn into a hard, triumphant mask. For a moment her heart quailed; he filled her vision, blocking out the rest of the world so that all she could see was Curt.

And then he lowered himself and she felt his blunt probe at the passage that waited for him. Peta’s eyes widened as he eased slowly in. She swallowed.

The cords in his neck stood out. ‘All right?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed, and hooked her arms around his shoulders and pulled herself up around him, enclosing and enfolding him, offering herself to him in the most basic, most primal way of all.

Blue fire swallowed every shard of grey in his eyes; his powerful shoulders flexed and he thrust hard and deep, taking her in one strong push that cracked Peta’s world open and forced her into another dimension.

Colours she had never seen before spun in front of her, unknown sensations ricocheted through her, and she cried out hoarsely and clutched him, fingers digging into his hide as she clenched muscles she hadn’t known to exist around the length of him.

‘Peta?’ he demanded, easing back.

She shuddered at the fierce intensity of his tone. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she commanded.

His expression relaxed and he kissed her and began to push again. ‘No,’ he said against her lips.

Peta learned that making love was like a dance, a smooth meshing of bodies, of rhythm, of movement, of breath and touch and the sounds of their loving—soft murmurings, the relentlessly increasing thud of their hearts. Tender when she wanted tenderness, erotically demanding when she needed that, but always in control, Curt led her along undiscovered pathways of passion until she shuddered and bit his shoulder and moaned deep and long, head flung back in pleasure so keenly sharp it was close to anguish because it wasn’t enough…

That was the moment everything changed; a rough, low sound was torn from his throat, and from then on there was nothing deliberate about his movement, nothing controlled or restrained.

Their bodies fought and melded, struggling to reach some unachievable goal in a primitive mating battle that led inexorably to wave after wave of pleasure so extreme she thought she might die of it.

And then a bigger, more dangerous wave caught her and tossed her up into an alternate universe where nothing but ecstasy existed, spreading through her in unbearable delight.

Dimly she heard herself cry out again before she was lost in Curt’s possession. Dimly she heard a guttural sound break from him when he too reached that place, and his big body went rigid and they moved together like a single entity.

And then the slow descent into dazed, exhausted peace sucked her into darkness.

She woke to a different darkness and lay in stunned stillness, trying to work out where she was. She was in her usual position, on one side. She was hot—but not with the usual heat of a summer night. This heat came from within her and beat against her.

Subtle sensory clues wove their way between her defences. A different feel to the bed—no movement, but she knew someone was beside her. When she opened her eyes the memories smashed through, and she recalled everything, from her surrender to those final moments when she’d convulsed with unmatched rapture in Curt’s arms.

CHAPTER EIGHT