His Innocent Seduction

She shakes her head. ‘It’s just sex. That doesn’t confer on you any right except to fuck me.’

‘Another excellent point, Millie.’ I move closer, my eyes locked to hers, sipping my wine. ‘And yet...’

‘And yet?’ She has to tilt her head to look up at me.

‘I don’t want to be something you wake up and regret.’

Relief fleetingly passes across her face. ‘I won’t.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I’m in my head.’

I laugh softly. ‘And I want to be in your body.’ I push my hips forward so she can feel my rock-hard dick against her flat stomach. Her breath catches in her throat. She shivers. ‘But I’m not some teenager without a degree of self-control. If we do this, I want to take precautions.’

Her eyes spark with mine and there’s a silent challenge in her steel-blue gaze. ‘You think you’ve got self-control?’ she murmurs, ducking down and sliding out from under my arm, moving down the balcony a little way.

I watch, without following. ‘Yeah. Enough to know I have to be sure my partner in bed is there because she really wants to be.’

‘Oh, I want to be there,’ she promises, sipping her wine before placing the glass down on a table.

‘You’re beautiful,’ I say honestly.

She shrugs. ‘You don’t need to flatter me. I’m not here for compliments.’

I bite back a laugh. She is unlike any woman I’ve ever known.

‘I just mean you could surely have had your pick of guys at any time before now.’

Even in the subdued lighting of the balcony, I see her face pale. Curiosity grows—and also the certainty that I’m right. There’s more to this than just an insanely hot proposition. I’m good at reading people and there’s something about Millie that speaks of a vulnerability, something she’s working her hardest to hide from me.

I think back to every encounter we’ve had. To the way she spent the first month she came to O’Leary’s avoiding my eyes, like she wasn’t even sure how to talk to me, let alone look at me.

And now, this. Why?

Nothing adds up.

‘Millie...’ I groan, and now I step closer. Her chin tilts at a defiant angle. ‘I want you,’ I say thickly. ‘I’m surprised by how much, to be completely honest. But I’m not the kind of guy who takes advantage of anyone.’ Out of nowhere, I think of my mum, and the way my dad made an art form of walking all over her. I am not Clint Brophy. I never will be. I soften my voice. ‘If this is because you’re hurting or sad or something has happened, I need to know that now.’

She reaches for her wine again, sips it, then replaces the glass.

‘My mother died.’ She says the words clinically, but that doesn’t matter. I hear the throb of grief as it bursts through her.

‘When?’ My own response is clinical too, like I’m in court, where I make it a necessary habit to keep my emotions at bay, even when I feel them deeply.

‘A while ago.’

‘I see.’ I don’t.

‘She died.’ Millie swallows, her throat jerking convulsively. ‘And after the funeral, after everything had calmed down, I packed up my life and came away. I’m travelling because she never got a chance to. I put my life on hold when she was sick, Michael. I put everything on hold because she needed me.’

Her fingers curl around the bottom of her shirt and, as I watch, she lifts it up slowly, painstakingly slowly, inching it over her flat stomach, to her breasts, then over her head. She looks at me as she drops it to the floor, at her feet.

‘But now... I want to make up for lost time. I want to do everything and see everything and I want to sleep with a guy. I want to be fucked by someone hot and who I’m really attracted to. I want to be fucked by someone who knows what they’re doing. I want to learn from a master.’ She wiggles her brows, but I’ve stopped looking at her face. Hell, I’ve practically stopped breathing.

How many times have I fantasised about her tits?

How many times have I imagined what they’d look like beneath the shirts she wears to work?

More than I can remember.

And the reality is so much blindingly better than my fantasies.

Full and round, pale cream in colour, barely contained by a scrap of lace fabric, her dainty peach nipples visible beneath the fabric.

My dick jerks in my pants.

I step closer.

Her breathing gets louder.

‘You want to learn from a master?’ I repeat, moving closer still.

She nods wordlessly.

‘You want to learn about sex?’

Another nod, her eyes burning through my soul. A soul I am on the precipice of selling to the devil...

‘Fine.’

She exhales with my simple declaration, her relief as evident as that which I feel in my chest. I close the distance between us, reaching behind her and unhooking her bra. She makes a noise from deep in her throat. ‘But I have rules.’

Her head jerks to mine. She’s so close I could drop just an inch and kiss her.

‘What rules?’ She’s thinking the same thing as me, her eyes chasing my mouth.

I roll my hips to show her how turned on I am. She groans.

‘You’ve missed out on so much.’

She still doesn’t speak.

‘It’s not just sex, Millie.’

I drop the bra down beside her then cup my hand over one of her full, round breasts. She makes a choking noise. Her innocence is captivating.

I keep my eyes on her as I take her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, lightly at first, rolling it a little, watching as pleasure darts through her, contorting her face, bringing her eyes shut.