The Tycoon's Forced Bride

Once more his mouth covered hers, but this time the kiss was firm, insistent, and his lips parted hers, his tongue sweeping the soft fullness of her lower lip waking every nerve in her body. She shivered against him, feeling so much, remembering them, as they had been before she’d been hurt. It felt good—familiar—being in his arms and yet it was also overwhelming. Their relationship had always been so fiery. The physical had consumed both. They’d been passionate lovers, not friends, and maybe that was part of the problem in the months and years following the accident. They didn’t know how to be anything but lovers, and that didn’t work for them anymore.

“You mouth is so warm and sweet,” he said. “It makes me think of how warm and soft you are between your thighs, and how much I love to kiss you there.”

“You can’t say that,” she protested against his mouth.

“Oh, I can, just as I can still make you mine. I know you want me still.” And then he set about proving his point, deepening the kiss, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, applying just the right amount of pressure, kissing her just the way she loved to be kissed, coaxing the response he wanted until she opened her mouth to him with a sigh.

His tongue swept inside her mouth, taking her, tasting her, sending darts of delicious sensation racing through her, as bright pricks of light exploded behind her eyelids, electrifying her from head to toe.

She’d forgotten this, the pleasure of a kiss.

She?

??d forgotten this, how good it felt to be touched, desired.

For the first time in ages, she felt wonderfully alive, tingling all over.

His head lifted briefly, his eyes were dark. “You can’t deny this,” he rasped, sweeping his thumbs across her cheekbones. “You can’t deny us a chance.”

She stared up at him, dazed, her senses stirred, her blood humming. It was virtually impossible to think, much less form a coherent thought. But she tried. She tried to remember why this was wrong, why this wouldn’t work. “It’s just…the physical.”

He ran the pad of his thumb over her tender mouth, stroking ever so lightly in the middle of the soft, swollen lower lip, making her nerves tighten and dance. “Liar. You and I know carnal, babe, but this is more than sex. This is so intense because we’re invested in each other. We want each other. We need each other.” His thumb strummed her lip. “I need you, and you can say what you want, but I know you need me, too.”

She opened her mouth to deny her attraction, deny him, but he wasn’t having it. His head dipped, his mouth took hers, the kiss fierce, almost punishing. His tongue found hers and he drew her tongue into his mouth, sucking rhythmically on the tip, an exquisite tension that made her press against him, craving friction and relief, but he wasn’t interested in soothing her. He wanted her to feel, and ache, and he was making sure she was hot. Wet.

And she was hot, so hot, a thick honey in her veins, her panties growing damper against her skin. If he touched her, she’d be slick, and ready for him. She was always ready for him. It was impossible to resist him. She’d always been putty in his hands. But it wasn’t a good thing. He was her weakness. Still.

If she had any sense, she’d pull away now. She’d utter a sharp rebuke, and reject him soundly.

But she wanted this. She wanted everything she’d missed, and when his hand went to her jaw, angling her head to give him even deeper access to her mouth, she trembled with need.

His palm slid down her throat, fingers finding nerves she didn’t even know she had. Ava leaned against him, dazzled by the riot of sensation and the sharp, insistent desire. It had been over a year since they’d last made love, but the hunger was still there, a feverish wanting that charged every kiss, every touch.

No one had ever made her feel so much.

No one had ever made her want so much.

Sensation rippled through her, followed by waves of bittersweet pleasure. He was claiming her with the kiss, reminding her she’d always been his, and would always be his, and she couldn’t deny it, not when he melted her from the inside out and her body ached for his hands and touch, needing his body and the release.

His head lifted and he gazed down into her face, his features hard, his expression fiercely possessive. “You still want me,” he rasped.

“That’s never been the issue,” she answered, breathing fast, dazed by the explosive chemistry.

“Then that’s a start,” he retorted, gently pulling her away and then stepping back a foot. “I can work with that.”

Ava swayed on her feet, dazed, lips and body pulsing.

From the heat of the kiss, she’d expected Colm to either take her here, in the hall, or carry her off into the nearest bedroom and ravish her, but instead he was backing off. Right when she was ready for more.

She smoothed her sundress and struggled to gain control over her breathing, but it was still ragged. She felt ragged.

As well as hot. And hungry.

He’d made her want more, and yet now he was pulling away.

So not fair.

Frustrated, she looked up at him and their gazes locked. She realized from his expression he knew exactly how she felt. He’d done this deliberately. Turned her on. And then backed off.

“That was dirty,” she said hoarsely.

“Not dirty. We’re playing.”

“In that case, we have a very different definition of playing.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t think so. I just think you’re out of practice. Pleasure isn’t something to be rushed. Desire needs to be stirred—”

“Oh, it’s stirred.”

“And senses need to be teased.”

“You’ve done that as well.”

His lips twitched. “So enjoy the anticipation. That’s half of the pleasure.”

“Mmm. Great. I can’t wait.”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “Go change into one of the swimsuits in your closet, and then meet me at the pool. We can cool off with a swim before lunch is served on the terrace.”

“You’re awfully bossy, Colm.”

“Just wait until I get you into bed.”