The Master's Mistress

‘Where no doubt you were the only student living in a penthouse apartment and being driven about by your own personal chauffeur!’

‘Do I live in a penthouse apartment now?’ she challenged. ‘Do you see a chauffeur driving me around?’

‘You probably decided to leave him in London.’

‘Or maybe I just never had a chauffeur to begin with?’ Her chin was raised scornfully. ‘I never would have believed it, Rogan, but you’re an inverted snob!’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Those dark eyes narrowed menacingly.

Elizabeth stood her ground. ‘It means that you considered it okay to mess around with the hired help, but not with an heiress!’

Rogan became dangerously still. ‘Mess around with…?’ he repeated softly.

‘Make love to, then. Or, more correctly, have sex with,’ she spat out scathingly. ‘What’s the matter, Rogan? Does my being an heiress scare you?’

A red tide seemed to pass in front of Rogan’s eyes, blinding him to all else but Elizabeth as she faced him so defiantly across the kitchen, the spiky style of her hair seeming to add to her challenge, as did the scorn he could see in the deep blue of her eyes and that faintly contemptuous curl of her top lip.

It was the contempt that pushed him over the edge of the caution that was usually second nature to him.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as Rogan strode forcefully across the kitchen towards her. ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped, even as she took a wary step backwards.

Rogan’s mouth twisted with satisfaction as that step brought Elizabeth up against one of the kitchen cupboards, leaving her with nowhere else to go. ‘I’m going to seduce an heiress, of course,’ he told her, standing so close to her that he could see the nerve pulsing erratically in her throat and the wide apprehension in her eyes. Could feel the heat of her body only inches away from his own. Smell the perfume that was uniquely Elizabeth’s.

She blinked nervously. ‘Rogan—’

‘Elizabeth,’ he murmured throatily, his gaze easily holding her wary one as he slowly lowered his head.

Elizabeth’s lips parted of their own volition, even as she tilted her chin up slightly, her breathing shallow and uneven as she just stood there and waited for the fierceness of Rogan’s kiss.

He came to a halt with his lips only centimetres away from hers, the warmth of his body close, so very close, but not quite touching hers. ‘Say you want me, Beth.’

Her breasts quickly rose and fell as she breathed deeply, feeling much as a fawn must when caught in the mesmerising lights of an oncoming car.

‘Beth?’

‘Yes…’ she groaned raggedly.

‘Say it!’ One of his hands came up to cup the side of her face and his thumb moved softly, erotically, between the moistness of her parted lips as he touched and caressed the inner sensitivity. ‘Say it, Beth,’ he repeated insistently.

She swallowed hard, aware she had awoken a sleeping tiger. ‘I want you,’ she repeated huskily. ‘Yes, Rogan, I want you!’ she said again brokenly, and she moved the short distance that separated their two bodies, her hands moving to the width of his shoulders even as she pressed herself against his much harder contours. ‘I want you, Rogue!’ she added achingly, when he still held himself back from her.

His eyes gleamed his satisfaction as he shifted slightly, the hardness of his thighs slowly grinding against hers and clearly telling her of his own arousal as his mouth finally claimed hers.

Elizabeth clung to the muscled strength of Rogan’s shoulders as he kissed her deeply, hungrily, before his tongue thrust fiercely into the heat of her mouth in a rhythm that quickly had Elizabeth panting and pliant in his arms as her tongue duelled with his.

But it wasn’t enough. Elizabeth wanted his hands on her. Wanted to touch him too. Wanted to caress the silken hardness she could feel pressed against the ache between her thighs. One of her hands moved between them to glide down the hard contours of his chest and stomach, down to—

Rogan broke the kiss and pulled back slightly as he captured her caressing hand and held it firmly in one of his. ‘Unbutton your blouse for me, Beth,’ he encouraged her gruffly.

Unbutton…? ‘I can’t,’ she groaned self-consciously.

‘Yes. You. Can,’ he said, and he moved back slightly.

‘Come on, Beth,’ he said huskily. ‘One button at a time. Slowly,’ he cautioned softly, and he held Elizabeth’s gaze captive by his as her shaking fingers moved to quickly unbutton the first two buttons of her blouse.

Elizabeth felt totally bereft without the touch of Rogan’s mouth against her own, without the heat of his body pressed so intimately against her. Nevertheless, her hands trembled slightly as they slowly released each button of her blouse from its fastening, the air cool against the heat of her bare flesh, her nipples pressed eagerly against her lacy bra.

‘Take it off,’ Rogan growled, once the blouse was completely unfastened.

‘Rogan—’

‘I said, take it off, Beth.’ The darkness of his gaze held hers unblinkingly. ‘Take it off so that I can put my mouth on you,’ he added.

She slowly shrugged her blouse from her shoulders and let it slide down her arms onto the floor, self-consciously aware of her swollen and sensitised breasts inside her bra, the dusky nipples pebble-hard against the softness of the material.

‘Better,’ Rogan grated as he easily lifted her to sit her on top of one of the work surfaces. ‘Now the bra,’ he encouraged softly.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. ‘Do you expect me to do all the work?’

He gave a humourless smile. ‘I’m just making it clear who is seducing whom.’

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. ‘It doesn’t have to be this way, Rogan.’

‘Yes, it does,’ he insisted, placing a hand on either side of her on the worktop and pinning her to the spot. ‘I’m going to be inside you, Beth. Going to take you. Going to take you so fiercely and give you so much pleasure, over and over again, that you’ll have to beg me to stop. Now, take off the bra!’ A nerve pulsed in the tautness of his clenched jaw.

She should be angry with his demands. At the very least apprehensive at the fierceness of his lovemaking.

Instead Elizabeth felt the tremors in her body deepen. She was throbbing. Aching. Wanting. Needing.

She needed Rogan inside her…now!

She straightened her shoulders, the movement thrusting her breasts forward. ‘Unfasten it for me.’

Those dark eyes narrowed on her fiercely for several breathless seconds, before he curved an arm about her back and released the fastening on her bra with one economical movement. He peeled the straps down her arms and threw the small lacy scrap of material onto the floor with her blouse. All without the steady darkness of his gaze so much as flickering from holding hers captive.

Elizabeth’s mouth went dry as she attempted to breathe. Her skin felt hot and tight. That throbbing fire was increasing between her thighs.

She stopped breathing altogether as Rogan finally lowered his gaze to look down at her naked thrusting breasts. Knowing what he would see. Feeling how hard and full her dusky nipples were. Longing for him to do as he said and put his mouth on her…

‘Rogan…’ she said longingly, long seconds later. When she could no longer take the torment of having only the heat of his gaze on her. ‘I want you now!’

Rogan raised that devouring gaze from Elizabeth’s breasts, his eyes searching as he looked into her face. Her eyes were dark and hot, the pupils dilated. Her cheeks were flushed and soft. The fullness of her lips swollen and slightly parted.

Oh, yes, Elizabeth wanted him.

As Rogan had intended she would when he deliberately began this seduction.

The only problem was that he now wanted her so badly himself that he was in danger of losing control of his own body before he had so much as touched her!

He should get out of here. Away from her and from the temptation she represented.

Instead he reached out to part her legs, before placing his hands on either side of her waist and lifting her forward, hard against the bulge of his arousal. Her naked breasts were firm and so incredibly hot through the thin material of his T-shirt, and he began to move slowly against her, grinding his hardness against the full nub of her arousal.

He didn’t touch her in any other way, just continued to thrust against her. Pleasuring her in that way slowly, grindingly, until Elizabeth cried out in a hot and throbbing release that almost took Rogan with her. He felt every quiver of that shuddering release as she arched into him, her head falling forward to rest against his shoulder as she rode that pleasure to the end.

Rogan was so hard now, so desperate to be inside her, that he physically ached with that need.

He moved back slightly to peel off his T-shirt before unbuttoning his jeans and discarding them, along with his boxers, supporting Elizabeth’s weight as he lifted her down onto the tiled floor and stripped off the rest of her clothing.

His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at her lithe nakedness. Firm and thrusting breasts tipped by hard, rosycoloured nipples. Waist long and slender. Hips and legs curvaceous, with deep copper curls nestled between her thighs.

Elizabeth gazed her fill of Rogan in return as he stood naked in front of her. The broadness of his powerful shoulders. The flatness of his stomach. His hard, jutting arousal between muscled thighs…