Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

He said it as a joke but I felt the undercurrent and knew not to push it. He’s dropped enough little comments like that over the last few months for me to get the picture: he had a shit childhood and is a committed lone wolf.

His body is back on mine in two seconds and I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him towards me.

I don’t need to ask twice. There’s no mystery to this—we both know why he’s here, and it’s far from our first time. He thrusts into me and my body trembles in silent but powerful recognition. Thank God. It’s been too long. He moves slowly at first so I drag my nails—painted our newest shade of red, Ruby Rose—down his back and dig my fingers into his buttocks. He laughs, that deep, husky tone of his voice sending a frisson of desire along my spine.

He thrusts deeper, harder and I tilt my head back, pleasure exploding through me. His mouth drops to my breasts, his stubbled jaw providing a sensual contrast on my flesh—his mouth is warm and soft while his jaw is almost painful on my sensitive skin. He sucks a nipple deep in his mouth, rolling it with his tongue the way he knows I like, his fingers tormenting my other breast as he drives deeper and I arch my back, welcoming him, needing him.

My first orgasm is mind-blowing. I dig my nails in harder, only stopping when it occurs to me, in the back of my desire-flushed mind, that I might draw blood. I let my hands fall to my sides and I ride the wave, pleasure contorting my face, satiation making my breath husky.

As my breath starts to return, I push up so we roll over and I’m on top. His eyes are laced with heat, his sculpted cheekbones slashed with dark colour, and I know his own orgasm is close at hand. With my body on his, I begin to rock on my haunches, pushing up and easing myself down, slowly, tormenting him in a way that’s seriously unkind given how quickly he just got me off.

But the power of this is addictive and I love that he doesn’t fight me, I love that he submits to my brand of torment, letting me take control even when I suspect he wants to grab my hips and hold me down. I lean forward so my breasts brush his chest and he growls my name in the back of his throat so it reverberates from his body to mine. Ashaahh. I love the way he says that, deep and guttural. It’s so primal.

I keep moving my hips, rocking back and forth, the pressure of his cock inside me and his body against mine making my temperature skyrocket. Pleasure builds again so I know I’m going to come once more, and hard. I’m trembling all over, an orgasm on the periphery of my awareness, and then he’s kissing my lips. His hands grab my hips and he moves me in time with his own thrusts, so he’s buried deep inside of me again and again until finally he explodes just as I tip over the edge of the earth. Our bodies fall apart in unison, our voices mingled as pleasure wraps around us both, fervently demanding our surrender. And we give it willingly, urgently, the speed of this coming together unusual for us, but nothing I’m going to complain about.

Sure, I prefer the nights when we have hours and hours to kiss and taste and explore—I’m already itching to go down on him, to take his cock in my mouth and drive him to the point of insanity with the things I can do to him, but there’s no time. My body is still on top of his, he’s deep inside me, when my doorbell buzzes and the faintest hint of a male voice comes to us.

‘Shit.’ I push up onto my elbows, casting a glance at the diamond-encrusted wristwatch I always wear. ‘He’s early.’

Beneath me, Theo’s expression is laconic. He’s the cat that got the cream, but there’s no time for post-coital bliss. I roll off him and pick up my dress, my knees a little wobbly as I stand and pull the fabric over my head.

My brother’s voice comes through the door again. ‘Shit,’ I mutter. Then, louder, ‘Just a second.’

I turn to Theo, who’s watching me with a curious look. ‘You have to hide.’

He bursts out laughing. ‘Hide?’

‘Yeah. Hide.’ I reach for him, grabbing his hand at the same time I bend down and scoop his clothes off the floor. I thrust them at his chest, a warning look on my face. ‘In there.’

He shoots a look over his shoulder in the direction I’ve pointed, then shakes his head. ‘I’m not hiding in your closet.’

‘My brother’s here.’

‘So? Aren’t you going to introduce me?’ He’s teasing but I instantly reject the suggestion, even when it’s not a suggestion made in earnest.

‘Er...sure. “Hey, big brother! Here’s the guy who’s been fucking my brains out the last six months.”’

‘You could just use my name.’

‘And say what? That you’re my very convenient fuck buddy?’ I draw my brows together. ‘Just—stay in here.’ The words hold a warning. ‘Shit! Where’s my—?’

He’s holding my thong on the tip of his finger. His look is pure molten seduction. Damn it, I want him again and he knows it. I snatch the thong and pull it on a little awkwardly, then run my fingers through my hair.

‘How do I look?’

‘Like a woman who’s just been ravished.’

Great, I was afraid of that. ‘Just...don’t make a sound. Shut the door behind you when you leave.’ I press a harsh kiss to his lips and move to my bedroom door but, before I walk through it, I rush back to him. ‘Thanks. You were great.’ I wink and squeeze his butt before turning and leaving.

Joshua, dressed in a tux, looks exactly like our father. ‘Hey.’ His eyes scan me and show the exact opposite reaction to the one I saw on Theo’s face fifteen minutes ago. I don’t mean I’d expect my brother to look at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off, but where Theo looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, Joshua’s expression always shows a hint of disapproval. He strides past me, presses a perfunctory kiss to my forehead, then moves into the kitchen.

Which is seven paces closer to my bedroom.

I look down the corridor betrayingly, and note the outline of Theo’s body through the crack of the door. He’s pulled his boxers on, at least, but if Joshua happened to look down the hall he’d see a half-naked billionaire smiling smugly back at him.

‘Shouldn’t we be going?’

‘We’ve got a few minutes if you want to fix your hair, Charlotte.’