The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (118 page)

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Authors: Helen Bianchin

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Collections & Anthologies, #Contemporary Women, #General

BOOK: The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections)
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All she needed, she determined as she switched off the light, was a good night's sleep.
M
ICHELLE woke with a start, the images so vivid for the space of a few seconds that she was prepared to swear they were real.
Jeremy, maniacal. Nikos, dark and threatening.
It was as if she was a disembodied spectator, watching the clash of steel as they fought, the thrust and parry as they each meshed their skill with physical prowess.
Then there was darkness, and she heard a cry of pain, followed by silence. She tried to ascertain who was the victor, but his features eluded her.
‘Dear heaven,' Michelle whispered as she shifted into a sitting position and switched on the bedlamp. Light flooded the room, and she relished the reality of familiar surroundings. Then she lifted her hands to her cheeks and discovered they were wet.
She scrubbed them dry, then she slid out of bed, pulled on a wrap, and walked quietly out to the kitchen. The digital display on the microwave relayed the time as one-o-five.
A cold drink would quench her thirst, and she selected a can, popped the top, and carried it into the lounge.
The night was warm, and she had an urge to slide open the wide glass doors and let the fresh sea air blow away the cares of the past few days.
Michelle stepped out onto the terrace and felt the coolness wash over her face. There was the tang of salt, a clean sweetness that drifted in from the ocean, and she breathed deeply as she took in the sweeping coastal view.
Street lamps, bright splashes of neon, pinpricks of light that diminished with distance from enumerable high-rise apartment buildings lining the coastal strip.
It resembled a fairyland of light against the velvet backdrop of an indigo night sky and ocean.
She lifted the can and took a long swallow of cool liquid. The breeze teased loose a few stray tendrils of hair and pulled at the hem of her wrap.
It could have been ten minutes or twenty before she returned indoors, and the sight of a tall male figure framed in the lounge brought her to a shocked standstill.
Her rational mind assured it was Nikos, but just for a split second with the reflected hall light behind him, her imagination went into overdrive.
‘How long have you been standing there?' Was that her voice, sounding slightly high and vaguely breathless?
‘Only a few minutes,' Nikos ventured quietly.
A towel was draped low on his hips, his chest and legs bare. It occurred that she hadn't even bothered to consider he wouldn't have anything to change into.
‘I noticed the hall light go on half an hour ago.'
‘So you decided to investigate.' She didn't mean to sound defensive. Except he could have no idea
how vulnerable she was feeling right now, or be aware of the image he presented.
For one crazy moment she wanted to walk up to him and take comfort from the warmth of his embrace. Yet that was a madness she couldn't afford.
‘I didn't mean to frighten you.'
Hadn't he been able to sleep? Or did he simply wake at the slightest sound? His features were dark, and in this half-light it was difficult to read his expression.
Her senses leapt at the electric energy apparent. It was almost as if all her fine body hairs rose up in anticipation of his touch, and she felt her heart quicken to a faster beat.
Get out of here,
now
, a tiny voice urged. Except her legs wouldn't obey the dictates of her brain.
The slow ache of desire flared deep inside, and she was aware of her shallow breathing, the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat.
Nikos didn't say a word as he took the few steps necessary to reach her, and his eyes held hers, compelling, dramatic, unwavering. Dark onyx fused with emerald, and she was unable to look away.
A hand closed over her shoulder, while the other slid beneath the heavy knot of her hair, loosened it, then when it fell to her shoulders he threaded his fingers through its length and smoothed a few stray tendrils behind her ear.
She felt him move imperceptibly, then sensed his lips brush over her hair and settle at the edge of one temple.
Unbidden she linked her arms round his waist and
sank into him. She didn't want to think, she just wanted to feel. To become lost in sensation, transported to a place where there was only the moment, the man, and the passion.
She lifted her face to his, and felt the soft trail of kisses feather across her cheek, then descend to the generous curve of her mouth, tantalising, teasing, nibbling as he explored the soft fullness of her lower lip, tracing it with the tip of his tongue before delving in to make slow sweeping forays of the sweetness within.
It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and she opened her mouth to him, angling her head in surrender as passion swept her to new heights.
Michelle dragged his mouth down to hers as his hand slid to her thigh and slowly crept up to her bottom, shaped it, then pressed her in close so she could be in no doubt of his arousal.
‘Put your arms round my neck,' Nikos instructed, and she obeyed, only to catch her breath as he lifted her up against him and curved each thigh round his waist so that she straddled him.
Then he walked towards the bedroom, every step providing an erotic movement that heightened the ache deep inside.
She wanted, needed the physical joining, the hard thrusting primal rhythm as he took her with him to a place where there was only acute primitive sensation. Michelle was dimly aware they reached the bed. She felt him pause as he tossed back the bedcovers and drew her down onto the percale sheet, stilling as his eyes locked with hers.
He saw slumberous passion, desire, and something else that gave him pause. It would be so easy to take her, to sink into those moist depths and slake a mutual need until they reached satiation.
Instead he took the slow route, the long sensual tease that began with a sensory exploration of all her pleasure pulses, the sensitive crevices, as he used his lips, the soft pads of his fingers to touch and tantalise.
Michelle was unaware of the slight sounds she made deep in her throat as he took the tender peak of her breast into his mouth and began to shamelessly suckle until she cried out for him to desist. Then he merely shifted to its twin and brought her to the edge of pain.
Not content he caressed a path to her navel, explored it, then travelled low over her belly, teased the dark blonde curls with his tongue, then indulged in an intimacy that took her to the brink, then tipped her over the edge in a free fall that had her threshing against him, imploring him to stop...to never stop.
For one wild moment, she didn't think she could handle the intensity, then mercifully it began to ease, and she met his kiss hungrily, her hands eager, searching, wanting to bestow some of the pleasure he had gifted her.
She cried out as he caught her hands together and pressed them to his lips. There were a few emotive seconds as he paused to use prophylactic protection, then he positioned his length and eased into her, exulting in the gradual feeling of total enclosure as he slid deep. And stayed there for several long seconds before repeating the action. Longer and deeper, then
harder and faster until she cried out and fell off the edge of the world.
What followed became a feast of the senses as he soothed her fevered flesh with a gentleness that brought her close to tears. He explored each sensitive pulse, felt her quivering response and savoured it in a long after-play that stirred her senses to a point where it no longer became possible to lay supine, a willing supplicant to everything he chose to bestow.
She wanted to stir him to passion, to render him mindless beneath her touch until he begged her to stop.
With one easy movement she dragged herself free, then she captured his head between her hands and kissed him, thoroughly, slaking a sensual thirst as she employed sufficient pressure to roll him onto his back.
His eyes were dark, slumberous, and intent as she straddled his waist, then she trailed an exploratory path along one collarbone with her lips, dipped into the faint hollows, using her teeth to tease the hair on his chest, nibbling, savouring, tasting, until she reached one hard brown male nipple.
With extreme delicacy she laved it with her tongue and slowly suckled until the peak began to swell, then she took it between her teeth and employed the lightest pressure.
She felt, rather that heard his slight intake of breath, and she rolled the slightly distended peak with her teeth, then suckled with greedy sensitivity, all too aware of his fingers lightly brushing the soft fullness of her breasts.
Not content, she trailed a path of lingering kisses across his chest to bestow a similar treatment to its twin, and was unprepared for the sharp arrow that was part pleasure part pain as he took her nipple between two fingers and rolled it.
She gently swatted his hand and slid slowly down his torso, caressing the line of dark hair until she reached his stomach, hovered there for long tantalising seconds, then descended with such painstaking slowness.
Nikos held his breath as she began to explore with such devastating gentleness, it took all his willpower not to haul her into his arms and take control.
Yet he'd tested the measure of her endurance with an equally lingering sensual torture.
Nevertheless when she touched him lightly with the tip of her tongue, the breath hissed between his teeth, and her tentative examination brought a surge of powerful emotion. Not for the degree of her expertise. It was her touch, the desire to please him as he had pleasured her that brought him to the brink of climax.
Did she know she had this effect on a man? On
him?
Somehow he doubted it.
When he was almost ready to take independent action, she rose up in one graceful movement, carefully positioned herself, then slid slowly down until he was buried deep inside her.
It felt good, so very good. As if every nerve fibre, every sensory cell heightened as she sheathed and held him tightly.
There was a part of her that didn't want to move,
simply to be. Yet there was a primal need for sensory stimulation, and she placed a hand on either side of his shoulders, then began to withdraw. Just a little, increasing the action until it became something primitive, and she cried out as his hands curved into her waist, held her still, then assumed the position of supremacy, lifting her high as his hips rose and fell endlessly until it was she who cried out, she who clutched hold of him.
Afterwards he held her, his fingers drifting a lazy pattern back and forth along her spine until her breathing quietened.
Michelle felt his lips graze her ear, then slip to the sensitive curve of her neck, linger there, before moving to the edge of her mouth.
His kiss was incredibly soft, the lightest touch as he savoured a path over the fullness of her lower lip.
‘We're still—'
‘Connected.'
She felt his mouth part in a humorous smile. ‘Uncomfortable?'
‘No.' The sound sighed from her lips. She felt as if she could lay here forever, absorbing the man, his texture and taste.
There were words she wanted to say. Words that would adequately express what she'd just experienced. How special it had been. Emotionally, spiritually, physically. For the first time she knew what it was like to be a part of someone on every level. To share, possess, and be possessed.
Frightening. For inevitably there would follow a sense of loss.
Don't think about it
, she bade silently.
Just enjoy the night, and forget about what the new day might bring.
It wasn't love. Love was a slow process, a gradual learning, appreciation, understanding. An attunement of the senses.
Yet what they'd just shared was more than lust. That much she knew. Lust didn't leave you caught up with introspective thought, wishing for something beyond reach, or cause you to wonder if what had just happened could irreparably change your life. Or if, she decided a trifle wildly, there would be any choice.
There was no magic wand she could wave to remove the past few hours. Tomorrow would be dealt with when it arrived. Now all she wanted to do, all she had the energy for, was sleep.
She was unaware of Nikos carefully shifting her to lay at his side, or that she instinctively curled into the curve of his body as he settled the bed-covering over her sleeping form.
 
Michelle felt something soft drift across her arm, and she burrowed her head more deeply into the pillow. It was early, her alarm hadn't sounded, and she was tired.
Minutes later there it was again, whispering along the curve of her waist. It had to be an early morning breeze teasing the sheet, and she kicked the tangle of soft percale, freeing it from her body.
This time there was no mistaking the brush of skin on skin, and her eyes swept open to see Nikos propped up on one elbow, watching her. His expression
was slumberous and deceptively indolent, and he looked as sexy as hell with stubble darkening his jaw.

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