“Would you bend over for me?”
“I—it’s a theoretical question,” she responded thickly.
“But it doesn’t have to be.”
He settled his lips on hers again, and Belinda’s response was muted.
This time, rather than holding still, he folded her into his arms, and she slid her hands around his shoulders.
Colin found the zipper hidden in the side seam of her dress. He lowered it slowly, and cool air hit her skin.
Colin trailed his lips across her jaw to the delicate shell of her ear and then down toward her throat.
Images, words and scents from their night in Vegas came back to her. They’d been joking and teasing…until suddenly they weren’t. Instead, they’d lain back on the bed, entangled in passion.
It had been the best sex of her life. Colin had been tender, prepared and patient—that is, he had been until a powerful climax had shaken him and sent her over the top with its aftershocks.
And now he was doing it again.
The dress slipped away from her.
Colin took a step back so that he perched on the corner of his desk. “Come here. Please.”
If he’d been arrogant or impatient, she’d have had a chance at resisting him. Instead, she took two steps forward and fit in the space created by his legs.
He leaned forward, and his lips nuzzled her cleavage.
Belinda’s eyes drifted closed.
He licked first the tip of one breast and then of the other, stoking a fever of emotion inside her.
She moaned, and her fingers spread through his hair.
Colin settled his mouth on one breast, and Belinda arched up to him.
She felt deliciously alive, her body humming with desire. She rubbed against Colin’s erection, the evidence of his burgeoning passion.
Colin groaned and turned his attention to her other breast.
It was all too much and yet not enough, Belinda thought hazily. It was consuming and liberating.
Their clothes fell away from them, one by one, until only Colin’s trousers remained as a barrier between them.
With her gown and panties pooled at her feet, he lifted her, not breaking their kiss.
Her high-heeled pumps hit the library floor with a thud, one after the other.
Colin strode with her across the room and stopped next to the sofa. She slid down his body, feeling every hard plane and muscle on the way, her breasts grazing the sparse hair on his chest, until her feet touched the ground.
A low fire burned in the hearth nearby, casting shadows on the Oriental rug before it.
She looked up at Colin. “I thought we’d be safe in a room without a bed.”
He grazed her temple with his lips. “There are ways around it. And we’ve already tried a bed.”
“The Renoir hangs in your bedroom. Isn’t that the key to your seduction?”
He gave a choked laugh. “Call it arrogance, call it flying without a net, but maybe I thought I would be enough.”