He tossed it away.
“My mother would be very annoyed if she saw you treating clothes the way you do.” Especially high-end designer ones.
“Your mother has no place in our bedroom.”
“It’s not our bedroom.”
“You belong to me. This room belongs to you. Therefore, it is ours.”
She couldn’t push a denial of his claim through her lips. There was too much truth to it.
It was almost scary, but she wasn’t afraid.
In fact, that part of her that had felt alone in the world since her mother’s marriage to Perry Saltzman warmed with an inexplicable sense of belonging.
“She’s still my mother,” was all Chanel could think to say.
“And she always will be, but her views and opinions about you are skewed by grief and a lack of understanding. Therefore, they have no place in our life together.”
“We don’t have a life together,” she said with more vehemence than she felt.
But it was insane, this instant connection, his claim he planned a future with her. It just wasn’t real. Couldn’t be.
“We do. It starts with this.” His hands reached behind her to unhook her bra clasp, sight unseen.
Her nipples, already tightened into hard points from his earlier manipulations, contracted further from the cooled air brushing across them.
There was no stifling the shiver that went through her in response to the extra stimulation.
His smile was predatory. “You have very sensitive breasts.”
“Nipples,” she couldn’t help correcting. It wasn’t her entire boob responding, was it?
He brushed his fingertips along the side of her breast, sliding forward, but not touching the nipple.
Desire coiled low in her belly, her body arching toward his.
He did it again. “Very responsive.”
“You don’t like to be wrong, do you?” she asked in a voice that hitched every other syllable with her gasping breaths.
“It is a rare occurrence.”
“Arrogant.”
“Certain.”
“Same thing.”
“It is not.” Then he kissed her, preventing any more words.
It was a sneaky way to end an argument, but she couldn’t make herself mind. Not when it felt so wonderful. It might be only their lips that were connected, but she felt as if he was touching her to the very depths of her soul.
He pulled back, their breath coming in harsh gasps between them. “One thing left.”
“What?” she asked, nothing but his lips making any sense in that moment.
“Your panties.”
Were surplus to requirements. She got the picture but found she was hopeless in the face of doing something about it.
It was okay, though. His long masculine fingers were sliding between her hips and the silk and then it was being tugged down, baring the last bit of her to him.
“There will be nothing between us,” he growled, as if he could read her mind.
She looked up at him, their gazes locking, and what she saw in his left her in no doubt he wasn’t just talking about clothing.
He’d pushed her in the living room, demanding she acknowledge her own pleasure, her own desires, this crazy thing happening between them.
He was going to push her further now.
“It’s just sex,” she claimed with a desperate attempt to believe her own words.
“We are making love, locking our lives together.”
“This isn’t real.”
“It is very real.”
“Please…”
He cupped her face, the move one she was becoming quite familiar with and incidentally learning to love. “Please, what?”
“Just tonight? Can it just be about tonight?”
He lowered his head until their lips almost brushed. “No.”
This time, she kissed him. Couldn’t help herself and was glad she hadn’t when he took control and drew forth a response from her body that shouldn’t have been possible. Not after she’d just climaxed.
Only it was.
It was as if they were connected by live electric current, energizing, transforming every synapse in its wake, so that her body was uniquely tuned to him. The way that big body blanketed hers, his hardness rubbing against the sensitive curls at the apex of her thighs indicated he was being tuned to the same frequency.
A frequency she thought would rule her body’s responses for the rest of her life.
And if she could believe his words, it would.
The kiss pulled her out of time, suspending them in an intimacy that had no limits, not in hours and minutes, or in emotional connection.
It was beyond anything she thought two people could feel together.
His hands were everywhere, bringing pleasure, teaching her body his touch, making that indescribable pleasure spiral tighter and tighter inside her again.
She touched him, too, letting her fingertips learn his body, and just doing that gave her a level of delight she’d never known. She could caress this man, touch his naked skin and he wanted it, wanted her touch. Not just any woman’s. Hers.
An empty ache started, making her body restless for what it had never known.
As if he knew exactly what she needed, he nudged her thighs apart and adjusted his body so the head of his erection pressed against the opening to her body. However, he made no move to enter her.
The moment felt so momentous that tears washed into her eyes and trickled down her temples. He broke the kiss, lifting his head, his expression knowing.
He touched the wetness, wiping at the tears with one finger. “It is not just about tonight.”
“It’s not supposed to be this big.”
“You have waited twenty-nine years, krýxitka.”
She wasn’t a baby, not by any stretch, but having him call her one didn’t feel wrong. “But women don’t, anymore.”
“You had your reasons.”
“I want this.”
“I know.”
“You do, too.”
“Yes.”
“With me,” she confirmed, maybe needing a little more reassurance than she’d realized.
“Only you from this point forward.”
“You do not believe in infidelity?” A lot of businessmen thought it was their right when they flew out of town to leave their wedding ring in the bedside drawer of their hotel rooms.
Or so she’d read. Honestly, as awful as Perry might be toward Chanel, she couldn’t imagine him cheating on her mother. It was one of the reasons she respected him, even if she didn’t like the business shark.
She could never respect a man who didn’t understand and adhere to the true meaning of loyalty and faithfulness.
“It is too damaging to everyone involved.” There was something about Demyan’s tone that said he knew exactly what he was talking about.
She would have asked about it, but right now all she could really focus on was how much she needed him inside her. “It’s time.”
“Not yet.”
Unexpected anger welled up. “You’re not going to get bossy about this. I’m not begging.”
“I don’t want you begging. Tonight.”
“But—”
He smiled down at her, indulgence and tenderness she wasn’t even sure he was aware of glowing in his dark gaze. “You are a virgin. A certain amount of preparation will make the difference between a beautiful experience and one you never want to have to remember.”
“You make it sound so dire.”
“It can be.”
“Much experience deflowering virgins?” she asked with sarcasm and maybe just a hint of jealousy.
“Tonight is not the time for discussing past sexual encounters.”
“That isn’t what you said earlier.”
His jaw hardened but he said, “Fine. She was young. I was young. It was a disaster.”
“Did you love her?”
“Not even a little.”
/>
“Did she love you?”
“No.” No doubt there.
“You decided to figure out how to fix the problem.” She could so see him doing that.
She might not know everything there was to about this man, but some of his basic characteristics she understood very well.
He nodded even as he shifted again so there was room for his hand to get between them. A single finger gently rubbed along her wet folds.
“That feels good,” she whispered.
“It is supposed to.”
The touch moved up, circling her clitoris. It felt so delicious she gasped with the pleasure of it.