Captured by the Billionaire: Brooding Billionaire, Impoverished Princess

‘Alex,’ she muttered, unable to say anything more, clinging to his name as a life-raft in this turbulent sea of emotional discovery.

He lowered his head again and took her mouth.

The kiss was urgent and compelling. Inside, she became hot and slick, her body preparing her for the ultimate embrace. For a fleeting moment she stiffened but, when his other hand found her hips and eased her even closer, she knew that if she didn’t follow where her heart led she’d always regret it. No matter what happened, what lay ahead, she wanted this—wanted Alex—with a desperation that made rejection unthinkable.

Her breath stopped in her lungs as his thumb moved slowly, lightly across the nub of her breast, sending jagged white-hot darts of excitement through her.

She needed…something else; without volition, her back arched, pressing the curve of her breast into his palm.

His smile taut and humourless, Alex repeated the small movement. Its impact went right down to her toes, sizzling from nerve to nerve and melting her spine. A soft, erotic little sound in her throat startled her.

He had to be able to hear—and feel—the thunder of her heart as her breasts lifted and fell more and more rapidly, in time with the tormenting glide of his thumb over the acutely sensitive centre.

Waves of pleasure swelled through her in intolerable yearning. Buttressing them was an emotion even stronger and more durable than this shimmering, incandescent desire.

Somehow, without realising it, she’d fallen in love with Alex.

Knowing full well that it wasn’t returned…

Dimly, Serina knew she should be afraid, shocked, bewildered—should feel anything other than this sensuous delight that gave her the courage to raise her lashes when the kiss had finished.

Alex’s eyes gleamed like midnight sapphires in the bronzed, autocratic angles of his face. Her pulse rocketed when she saw the evidence of her fierce response to his kisses on his mouth—both the thinner top lip and the sensuous curve of the bottom were fuller than normal.

Her hands had somehow worked themselves across his back. She let them quest further down, her body tightening in exquisite supplication when she felt his response beneath her palms. Emboldened, she went further, only to freeze when the powerful thigh muscles stirred against her.

His eyes blazed a question.

Colour burned across her skin. With a lingering kiss to his throat, she signalled her wordless agreement but he demanded, ‘You’re sure?’

‘Very sure.’ Could that be her voice, vibrant with languorous promise?

But should she tell him that this was very new to her?

It seemed only fair, although a cloud darkened the surface of her excitement. After nervously wetting her lips, she muttered, ‘I haven’t…haven’t actually…’

‘You’re not protected?’ He held her away from him, his expression difficult to read. ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he said swiftly and hugged her. ‘I can deal with it.’

Her eager anticipation dimmed a little more. Of course he would have protection. No doubt his other lovers had spent time with him in this house—although they, she thought on a pang of sharp jealousy, had probably slept in the big bed she’d glimpsed in his room.

Alex said, ‘But not here, I think. Would you like time to get ready?’

No, she would not; it might give her time to rethink this. And if she did that she’d always regret it.

She looked at him with something like challenge. ‘Like a Victorian bride?’ she said, then wondered what trick from her unconscious had brought that to mind.

Because bridal was exactly how she felt—a little afraid, more than a little self-conscious, and yet eager, longing for what was going to happen.

And she still hadn’t let him know that she was totally inexperienced.

She opened her mouth again to do so, but he stopped the tumbling words with a kiss, and under that passionate onslaught she forgot what she’d been going to say, forgot everything but the elemental need to make love to him.

When he lifted his head she leaned into him to kiss his throat again. Daringly, she licked the place she’d just kissed, savouring the essence of him.

‘Hardly a Victorian bride,’ he said unevenly. ‘Your bedroom, I think.’

Her acquiescence turned into a squeak when he swung her up into his arms.

‘I’m too heavy,’ she protested.

‘You’re tall, but far from heavy.’

His smile revealed a flash of sheer male pleasure in his strength and, held against his heart, Serina felt more secure than she’d ever been in her life.

Outside her room, he slid her down his body and held her for a moment before turning the door handle. Inside, the room was warmed by the glow from the lamp on the bedside table.

Serina went in ahead and turned, holding the door wide. ‘Welcome,’ she said in a smoky little voice, and immediately felt foolish.

This was his house, after all.

But he said, ‘Thank you,’ as though he understood the obscure impulse that had summoned the words. And then he said with a wry twist of his lips, ‘I’ll leave you here for a few seconds.’

Of course. Protection…

Why hadn’t he chosen his bedroom to make love to her? Serina closed the door behind him and stared sightlessly around the beautifully furnished room. Perhaps he liked his privacy, she thought with a hint of hysteria.

She had no idea how to behave, probably for the first time since childhood—and now there was no mother, no governess to school her.

This was just her and the man she loved, the man she wanted with all her heart and with every importunate cell in her body.

A tap on the door made her start. She swung around and after a cowardly second opened it.

Awkwardness overwhelmed her. Fixing her eyes on the middle of Alex’s chest, she searched desperately for something to say, finally coming out with, ‘When I was a child my nurse always left the light on so I never went into a dark room.’

‘Because of the nightmares?’

She nodded. ‘I’m afraid I still make sure of it, even though I know I shouldn’t waste power.’

‘Your peace of mind is as important as saving electricity,’ he said quietly. ‘Why are you looking so intently at my button?’

The question jerked her head up, as perhaps he’d hoped it would, and her knees buckled under the heat of his gaze.

‘It’s a very nice button,’ she said idiotically.

He took her hand and placed it squarely over the button so that the heavy, fast thud of his heartbeat reverberated into her palm.

‘Perhaps you’d like to undo it,’ he suggested, a hint of laughter in his tone surprising her, and somehow relieving a little of her shyness.

She accepted the challenge, then with great daring slid her hand into the opening she’d made. Excitement flared within her at the immediate increase in his pulse rate.