She doubted it. Every inch of her was on fire. She ached between her legs. Even her lips tingled, as though objecting to the loss of his mouth on hers.
‘I don’t want you to stop,’ she managed, and the sense of relief was almost overwhelming as he offered barely a grunt of confirmation before lowering her onto the bed.
And then he was pushing the long skirt of her gown up to her hips, deliberately slowly, his hands grazing her thighs, higher and higher. His lips followed—languid, indulgent kisses, all stopping just short of where she yearned for his touch the most.
Again and again he repeated the motion. Up one side, then down the other, so close she could feel his breath brush over her molten heat through her lacy underwear, but never touching her. When she thought she could take it no longer she arched up slightly, only for Malachi to slide his hands under her backside and hold her in place.
‘Malachi...’
‘Patience, zvyozdochka...’
She could hear the amused smile even without seeing it.
‘All in good time.’
‘This is in so-called good time,’ she grumbled.
‘On the contrary. I find I want more time to get reacquainted with every millimetre of you.’ Backing off the bed, he ran his tongue down from her thigh to her knee, making her tremble all over. ‘Especially these long, incredibly sexy legs of yours, which you wrapped so tightly right around me when I drove deep inside you.’
She remembered. Lord, how she remembered.
But before she could answer Malachi was moving back up again, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, trailing a fiery blaze to the apex of her legs. Only this time he didn’t stop short. And he didn’t skirt over her core.
This time he bent his head and licked his way straight into her molten heat.
Saskia cried out instantly, helpless to stop her body from writhing under his expert touch. He was chasing her to the edge far faster than she could have imagined—but then she’d been dreaming of being back here in Malachi’s bed ever since she’d left it, three months ago.
She was dimly aware that in her dreams it hadn’t been just about her. In her dreams Malachi had been just as close to spiralling as she felt now. But then he lifted her backside with his hands, his tongue working a kind of magic inside her, and every thought went out of her head. There was only the pure sensation of what he was doing to her right now.
She had no idea how long they remained there. How long he played with her, toyed with her. Only knew that her body was revelling in every minute of it. There would never be anyone else for her like Malachi—she’d known that truth even before she’d realised she was pregnant—so if this was to be their one and only revisiting of history, she intended to enjoy every last second of it.
All too soon a delicious tremor began to work its way through Saskia’s body, rippling out from her core to the tips of her toes, her fingers, her head. And Malachi responded accordingly, increasing his wicked rhythm and changing angles until she was grasping at the bedding for purchase, the wildest little sounds escaping from her.
And then he closed his lips over the very centre of her need and sucked. Hard.
Saskia exploded.
A detonation of sensations coursed through her entire body and she shamelessly rode them out. Soaring on every last one of them. It might as well have been a lifetime before she came back down to earth, exhausted, boneless, and not even able to draw a steady breath.
By the time she finally came to and sat up, gingerly, Malachi was watching her. She recognised his dark, intense expression—desire—and it sent a thrill of pleasure down her spine.
‘Now, I rather think I should return the compliment...’ she managed hoarsely, reaching for his hands, which he duly extended, and allowing him to draw her to her feet, before turning her back to him and pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose the pearl buttons at the back of her gown. ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’
‘If you insist.’
His gravelly voice was distinctively loaded and intent, and she knew she wasn’t imagining the faint shake in his hands as he began to release one tiny button after another.
It gave her a sense of elation...almost of power...th
at a man with the kind of formidable, controlled reputation in business that Malachi had should be so close to the edge with her.
It felt like an age before the buttons were all undone, but as Saskia felt the halterneck fall, she turned slowly, allowing the dress to puddle at her feet before stepping elegantly out, and Malachi’s eyes went almost black as he reached for her, his hands cupping the faintest swell of her abdomen.
* * *
‘Actually, I rather think...’ she licked her lips, her eyes locking with his as she sank to her knees ‘...that it’s my turn.’
It took him a moment to register what she was doing. Long enough for her to unsnap his belt and for him to hear the sinful sound of her undoing his zip before he moved his hands to cover hers and still them.