Page 6 of Billion-Dollar Baby Shock

She believed him. The air between them was charged now.

Electric. He lifted a hand and traced a finger down her cheek to her jaw, before continuing that line down her throat to the little hollow at the base.

Her pulse was pounding, skin drawn tight as a drum.

Nipples stinging with need. He took the glass out of her hand and put it down and put his down too.

He asked, ‘Okay?’

A sudden realisation of what she was doing gripped Tara and she said, ‘If I told you I wanted to leave now would you let me?’

He answered without hesitating. ‘Of course, I could have Antonio back here with the helicopter within thirty minutes.’

Then he asked, ‘Do you want to leave?’

No. It beat through her. She really, really wanted this night out of her life to claim something for herself.

She shook her head and swallowed. ‘No, I don’t want to go but it’s just good to know that… I could.’

‘At any time, no matter what’s happening.’

Tara nodded. ‘Okay.’

He took her hand and led her out of the living space and through the moonlit villa to a doorway. He pushed it open and they stepped into a vast bedroom with a massive bed.

He let go of her hand to flick on some lights, then opened more sliding doors and the sea breeze, warm and fragrant, whispered over Tara’s skin. He turned to face her and walked across the room towards her, slowly.

Tara’s breathing became more and more constricted as her chest tightened and her skin prickled all over with anticipation.

He stopped in front of her and reached for her, putting his hands on her waist and tugging her into him. He lowered his head and his mouth covered hers and she sighed in relief to have him kissing her again, stopping her thoughts. She moved closer, wound her arms around his neck.

His hands moved to her back, one hand exploring her upper back and under her hair to cup her head.

This was the most decadently outrageous thing Tara had ever done and it didn’t remotely resemble the few fumbling kisses she’d shared with boys while doing her university course.

This was another league. This man was a master. Playing her as if she were a virtuoso’s violin. His hands were on the zip at the top of the back of her dress now and Tara broke the kiss to look at him.

Slowly, he pulled the zip down. Tara moved, dislodging his hands but only doing so to turn around and give him her back. She pulled her hair over one shoulder.

He continued pulling the zip down to just above her buttocks. The dress loosened around her chest and Tara held it. She turned around again and he reached for her hands, gently pulling them away.

The dress fell down, exposing her bare breasts. Tara couldn’t look at him but she heard his indrawn breath and couldn’t quite believe it. Her breasts weren’t that amazing. They weren’t big and they weren’t small. They were just…average.

But he said, ‘ Theé mou , you are stunning.’

She looked up. His dark golden gaze was fused to her body. A flush rose up, turning her skin pink. Her nipples were tight, aching.

He reached out and cupped one breast, testing its weight. He brushed a thumb across one nipple and Tara sucked in a breath. The feeling was so exquisite and connected directly to a point between her legs.

Half joking, she said, ‘I’m not sure if I can stand.’

He looked at her, cheeks slashed with colour. It made her feel less exposed. He took her over to the bed and said gruffly, ‘Lie down.’

She did. Her legs dangling over the edge. He reached for her dress and tugged it over her hips and off. Now all she wore was her underwear. Very plain. She put an arm across her eyes in mortification.

‘What are you doing?’

She felt the bed dip beside her. She took her arm down. ‘I don’t think I’m like the women you are used to…’ She made a vague gesture to her underwear.

With seemingly no effort at all, he lifted her further up the bed. He came down on one arm beside her and looked up and down her body.

‘You are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen.’

Tara blushed. ‘I’m—’

But he bent forward and covered her mouth with his, cutting off her words. She was glad. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel . And he indulged her, as if he could hear her thoughts.

He ran his hands all over her body, over her breasts, squeezing them gently before pinching her nipples. He smoothed a hand down over her belly and to her pants.

With an efficiency born of experience she didn’t really want to think about, he divested her of her underwear and now she was fully naked.

He moved his hand down, over the curls that hid her sex, and with gentle encouragement bid her to open her legs to him. She broke the kiss and looked up. She was on fire. He watched her as he parted her legs and his hand explored down, between her legs to where she was hot and aching with need.

She’d only ever done this to herself before and to have this man touching her was so incendiary that she was afraid she’d explode before he even touched her. But she didn’t. His fingers delved between the slick folds of her sex and then into her body.

Tara closed her eyes but he said, ‘Look at me,’ and she did, helpless as he moved against her and wound her tighter and tighter, making her forget everything, all her inhibitions and insecurities. All the myriad things that had occupied her head for so long.

His fingers were deep inside, moving in a rhythm she couldn’t hold out against, and when he bent his head and sucked one nipple deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth nipping, she lost all control and fell deep into an endless chasm of pleasure, her whole body pulsating against his hand and fingers.

When she could open her eyes again, everything was blurry until she blinked. Her body was suffused with pleasure, ebbing in waves.

He was looking at her and she couldn’t speak. As she watched, he moved off the bed. She only realised then that he was still fully dressed.

Within what seemed like seconds, he wasn’t.

He had removed his clothes with the same scary efficiency with which he’d just tended to her.

Tara came up on one elbow to look at him, her gaze devouring the most perfect male form she’d ever seen.

Admittedly she hadn’t seen that many naked male forms, but she was pretty sure none compared to this .

He really was a Greek god. Every inch of him hewn from rock and steel. Not an ounce of spare flesh. And that flesh…dark golden. Broad shoulders and chest, flat belly. Narrow waist. Strong thighs. And between his legs… Her insides quivered at his potency. Long and hard. Pulsing.

As she watched he brought a hand to himself and Tara collapsed back onto the bed, her limbs failing her.

He came back down on the bed beside her and curiosity overcame her lassitude. She sat up. ‘Can I touch you?’

He nodded. ‘Please, do.’

He lay back and, somewhere very dim, Tara marvelled at how he gave himself over for her delectation.

Reverently she touched his chest and he was so warm. His skin was silky with a smattering of hair. Nipples blunt. She moved her hand down over his belly, watching with fascination as his muscles tensed.

And then down… She stroked a finger along the length of his erection and glanced quickly at his face. ‘Is this okay?’

He nodded. ‘You might kill me, but yes.’

There was a bead of moisture at the tip and, completely instinctively, Tara put her finger to her mouth, tasting him. He groaned softly and sat up too. ‘You are killing me. I can’t wait…’

Tara lay back down. ‘Okay…’ It came into her head for a fleeting moment that she should tell him she was a virgin but she couldn’t bear it if it put him off. She watched as he reached for something nearby and then he was rolling a protective sheath onto his erection.

She was on the pill so she wasn’t unduly worried but at least he was taking care of them both without her having to ask. Not what was usual, from what she’d heard. The men her friends slept with seemed to be all too keen on wearing nothing for the sensation.

He moved over her on the bed, his body massive over hers. Tara widened her legs and he came between them, pushing them even further apart. He stroked the head of his erection against her body and it sent flutters of awareness back into her body.

And then, without taking his eyes off hers, he started to breach her body, slowly. Tara sucked in a breath. He was big. She was just thinking, This isn’t so bad, when he thrust deeper and the pressure was sharp and intense as her body accommodated him.

He stopped moving, looked at her. Tara felt so full she wasn’t sure if she could speak, and it was uncomfortable, but she knew instinctively that he couldn’t stop now or she would never know how it could be and she knew he would make it better.

She put her hands on his arms and pushed against him, making him go deeper. ‘Please, don’t stop.’

* * *

She is a virgin. The knowledge reverberated in Dion’s head like a klaxon. Every instinct urged him to stop this now, pull back. But his body was embedded in hers and she was so tight around him and every last sane and rational thought was on fire and turning to ash.

He’d prided himself all his life—ever since he’d been abandoned—on having control over himself.

Never letting anyone see inside him to where hurt and pain and grief festered, but now he was drowning in two pools of green and blue and he was not in control.

The only way he could hope to claw back any kind of control was to keep going.

And so he did, moving out and then back in, each glide of his body within hers growing easier and slicker until he could feel her body quivering under his and see her eyes lose focus and how her back arched and she wound her legs around his hips and brokenly pleaded with him, ‘ Don’t stop…

’ and then he felt her go still, the powerful contractions of her body around his sending him flying far beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.