An heiress for his empire - Page 37

His tongue swept into her mouth and just that fast Maddie was drowning in a sexual response only this man had ever brought out in her, thoughts and emotions overwhelmed by the onslaught of devastating sensuality.

Vik’s hold on her tightened as he pulled her body completely flush with his, his big hands roving over her back and up to knead her scalp.

Her own hands slid of their own volition up his pecs, over his shoulders and to the back of his neck, pulling her body around so her breasts were crushed against his chest. Sparks of delicious sensation pricked her nipples nearly to the point of pain in their intensity.

It felt so incredible still dressed, she could not fathom what it would be like once they were naked skin pressed to naked skin.

Vik made a rumbling sound of approval in his throat before his body shifted and then she was being lifted into his arms as he stood.

The man was strong. Following on that thought came another.

They were really going to do this.

For the first time, Maddie was glad she was a twenty-four-year-old virgin.

She wanted no past experiences shadowing this moment with him. No memories of hands on her flesh but his.

Vik carried her unerringly into to her bedroom, lowering her back to her feet and pulling his mouth from hers. She didn’t want to stop and used her hold on his neck to lift herself back up so the kiss could continue.

It was only natural to swing her legs up and around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back.

Something about her actions flipped a switch in Vik and the kiss went nuclear. His mouth devoured hers as he cupped her bottom through the rustling silk of her dress’s full skirt.

Overwhelmed by sensation, Maddie lost her connection to anything but the kiss. She did not know how long their mouths ate at each other. Nothing registered but the sparks of pleasure he ignited in her rapidly fanning into a conflagration that consumed.

She wasn’t even aware he’d moved them to the bed until he broke away from her and she didn’t fall to the floor.

She mewled with her need to reconnect to his lips, a sound that would have mortified her if she was not too lost to desire to care.

“Vik!” she demanded, no other word coming to the forefront of her mind.

His smile was feral and hot. But the wink that came with it was hotter. “Clothes.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ONE WORD BUT IT was all Maddie needed.

She sat up and reached back to unzip her dress. It was tricky at the best of times, the top of the zipper hitting her in the center of her back.

With her hands trembling from need, it was impossible. So frustrated she could almost cry, she struggled to unzip it.

All the while, she couldn’t pull her eyes from Vik. He’d ripped his Armani sweater off and tossed it on the floor, the black T-shirt he wore under it joining the pile of cashmere a second later.

His belt made a whoosh as he pulled it out of his trousers and the buckle clunked against the wall when he tossed it. His tailored slacks were next, dropping to reveal a straining bulge behind dark designer briefs.

“Your body is beautiful,” she breathed in awe.

Every muscle of his six-foot-four-inch frame was honed. Dark hair covered his chest, narrowing to a trail that disappeared into the waistband of his briefs.

She didn’t know if it was the dark, clingy fabric or reality, or even her oversensitized emotions, but Vik looked huge.

Maddie’s thighs clenched even as her fingers itched to touch. And she hadn’t seen the actual package yet.

Vik looked back, his own expression filled with desire. “You’re still dressed,” he accused.

“I know,” she said with pure frustration.

He winked again, the expression just as mind-bogglingly sexy this time as the first. “Need some help there?”

“Yes.”

He stalked toward the bed like a big sleek cat, climbing on with the same grace. He reached around her and let his fingers trail down the shallow V of her dress to the top of the zipper. “Is this your problem?”

“I can’t reach it.”

“How did you get dressed then?”

“I wasn’t hampered then.”

“By what?”

“What do you think?” she asked, wanting to sound annoyed and only succeeding in revealing the need inside her.

“Me?”

“Desire,” she clarified.

“Desire for me.”

“Yes,” she admitted, no real reason to pretend otherwise, but annoyed all the same at having to say it out loud.

“Good.” He lowered the zipper inch by inch. “I like this dress.”

“I’m never wearing it again.”

“Please do.”

“Why?”

“I have always enjoyed unwrapping my gifts. Just ask my grandparents.”

“I’m not a Christmas package.”

Tags: Lucy Monroe Billionaire Romance
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