The Ruthless Magnate's Virgin Mistress

‘The pull between us is amazingly strong,’ Nikolai remarked with an earthy smile that had an amount of charisma that took her equally by surprise. His hand closed over hers, warm and firm as if he somehow sensed her sudden urge to back away and impose some space between them. ‘You have a tiny pulse beating just here…’A long brown finger brushed the fine skin above her delicate collarbone.

That glancing casual touch made Abbey shiver as if she were in a violent gale. He pulled her to him and she didn’t resist. To stay upright she had to brace a hand on a lean, powerful masculine thigh. His muscles flexed beneath her touch and his dark head swooped, his mouth descending to claim hers with a fierce sexual urgency that devastated her. Her fingers smoothed over his cheekbones, delighting in the abrasive feel of his slight masculine stubble, clutched at his hair, loving the silky density of the strands, finally settling on his strong shoulders and closing there. She was struggling to stay steady in a world that was shot through with multi-coloured fireworks of excitement and sensation. Her body was responding like a parched plant to life-giving water. She loved the taste and feel of him and couldn’t get enough of either. The erotic plunge of his tongue made heat and moisture surge between her thighs and stirred an ache there that was so intense it almost hurt. He had awakened a need she had ignored for too long and she pushed against him, hungrily reaching out and greedy for every sensation she could grab.

He undid the halter of her dress and the bra beneath before she could even guess what he was about and took immediate advantage of his access to her sensitive flesh. His hands cupped the weight of her voluptuous breasts and he buried his mouth with an appreciative murmur against a fragrant freckled creamy slope while the pads of his fingers skilfully chafed the swollen jut of her nipples.

‘You are the most amazingly sexy woman,’ he breathed thickly.

It was not how Abbey saw herself and the comment stunned her back into possession of her senses. Suddenly she felt naked and exposed and foolish. She reached down and yanked her clothing back up over her bare skin, struggling with clumsy hands to retie the straps. He dragged her hands out of the way and performed the task for her.

‘I don’t do stuff like this,’ she muttered as if she was excusing herself, but her eager body refused to resist when he tugged her back into his arms.

‘This is different. We’re different. I’ve never been so hot for anyone as I am for you, milaya.’ Long fingers delving into her mass of rippling red curls, Nikolai muttered something else in Russian and pressed her hand against his aching groin with an explicit need that shocked and excited her in equal degrees. That bold invitation fascinated her. With a thrill of awareness she felt the hard thrusting power and shape of his boldly aroused manhood beneath the barrier of his trousers. Light-headed with the strength of her desire, she moaned beneath the marauding ravishment of his hot mouth, her fingers sliding between his shirt and his belt to explore the taut hair-roughened skin of his flat, muscular stomach and trace the aggressive length of his erection. He groaned beneath her inexpert ministrations and that open responsiveness and unashamed hunger of his allowed her to glory in her feminine power for the first time in her life. She felt drunk on the daring of what she was doing.

‘I want you now…I don’t want to wait,’ Nikolai growled thickly.

That uncharacteristic sense of daring that had momentarily fired Abbey shrivelled and died. She whipped her hand away from him, shattered by her total loss of control. ‘This is wrong…this is not me. I hardly know you.’

‘You know everything that matters,’ Nikolai told her harshly as the limousine came to a halt.

Abbey glanced out in confusion at the apartment building in one of London’s most exclusive residential areas. ‘Where are we?’

‘My home.’

‘I assumed we’d be dining out some place,’ Abbey remarked uncomfortably as the passenger door beside her opened.

‘The paparazzi give me no peace in public places.’

Abbey knew that had to be true. Press interest in his movements, most particularly his love-life, was considerable and she had no wish to see her own name in print next to his. His minders urged her protectively towards the steps and the door already opening for their entrance.

‘Will you need me again this evening, sir?’ his chauffeur enquired.

‘No. I’ll see you in the morning,’ Nikolai responded easily.

Colour flushing her cheeks and dismay and annoyance flaring within at that revealing instruction, Abbey breathed in slow and deep and smoothed down her frock before crossing the elegant foyer to board the waiting lift.