But perhaps that was better. This didn’t have to be complicated. There would be no entanglements. And after a lifetime of waiting she wanted, needed, something finally to happen. To be the author of her own destiny, if only for an evening. Even if it ultimately led to heartbreak, or at least disappointment.
‘Lina.’ Rico’s voice was rough. ‘If you’re sure, come here.’ Her eyes widened but then she obeyed, walking towards him on trembling legs so she was standing before him. ‘Take off your dress.’
Her heart was thudding so hard it hurt. Was he really going to ask her to do that right now? She swallowed hard and Rico’s gaze seemed to burn into hers, his eyes like molten silver as he waited for her to obey his command.
‘Well?’ One eyebrow lifted arrogantly. This was a test, a dare; if she didn’t do it, he would call her bluff. Accuse her of inexperience, and maybe even send her away. Taking a deep breath, her gaze never leaving his, Halina reached behind her and tugged the zip down her dress.
As the dress slithered off her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist—her breasts encased in a serviceable white bra rather than the sexy lingerie she would have preferred—Halina could hardly credit she was doing this. Was it the champagne that lent the recklessness to the moment, or was it the urgency she felt? Or was it the man himself, Rico Falcone, his body radiating the most powerful sexual charisma Halina had ever experienced?
The dress pooled around her waist and Halina lifted her chin, resisting the impulse to cover herself. ‘Well?’ she demanded, and thankfully her voice didn’t waver. ‘Take off your shirt.’
With a low husk of laughter, Rico undid his tie and then the studs of his tuxedo shirt, tossing them aside heedlessly so they clattered onto the marble floor. He shrugged out of his jacket and shirt so his chest was bare and magnificent, his skin gleaming like bronze satin stretched over powerful muscles, the dark hair sprinkling his impressive chest veeing down to the waistband of his black trousers.
‘Touch me,’ he said softly, and it felt more like a plea than a command, surprising her, because for a moment Rico Falcone didn’t seem arrogant. Gently she placed her hand on his chest, the dark, crisp hairs a sensual abrasion against her palm. His skin was warm, the muscles hard and flexed, and she felt the steady thud of his heart beneath her palm.
Rico encircled her wrist with his fingers, holding her hand there, against him. Neither of them spoke; the only sound was the ragged draw and tear of their breathing. Halina had never felt so close to a human being before, connected in a way that felt both intimate and intense.
Rico’s fingers tightened on her wrist, and then he drew her slowly towards him so her hips and breasts pressed against him. The feel of his body in such close contact with hers made a thrill run through her, as if a live wire ran right through her centre and Rico’s touch was the electric current.
He dipped his head, his mouth hovering over hers, their breaths mingled, everything suspended. Halina’s eyes fluttered closed, waiting for his kiss, but then she opened them again when he remained where he was, his lips barely brushing hers.
‘Rico...?’
Whatever he saw in her questioning gaze seemed to satisfy him, for in one swift movement he drew her even more closely to him, his hands on her hips, shrugging her dress down to her ankles as his mouth plundered hers with soft yet determined persuasion.
Halina brought her hands up to his head, her fingers threaded through his short, dark hair, her nails grazing his skull as she surrendered herself, body and soul, to that one endless kiss that demanded everything from her.
Her mind was a blur of sensation as Rico backed her towards the corridor that led to the suite’s bedrooms; she stepped out of her dress, stumbling slightly in her unfamiliar heels, and when she did he swept her up in his arms as if she were an armful of feathers and, with her curled against his chest, he strode into the bedroom.
The room was swathed in shadows and moonlight as Rico laid her on the bed. She was dressed only in her stockings and plain bra and pants, and she felt shy but not uncertain as she lay sprawled on the black silken sheets for his thorough inspection.
And inspect he did, standing above her as he slowly unbuckled his trousers and then shucked them off so he wore nothing but a pair of navy silk boxer shorts that did little to hide the impressive evidence of his masculinity.
‘You are very beautiful.’ The words were stark and sincerer because of it. Rico was not a man to flatter; he was merely stating a fact. And Lina could tell by the silver blaze of his eyes that he meant every simple word.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. Rico stretched out alongside her, the sinewy muscles of his body rippling with the easy movement. Halina held her breath as he hooked his fingers around the edge of her tights and tugged them downwards.
Her breath came out in a restless shudder as the tips of his fingers brushed against her sensitive core, igniting sensations she’d barely felt before. He tugged the tights lower, down her thighs, leaving fiery trails of sensation wherever his fingers brushed until he’d got rid of them completely and tossed them aside.
He loomed above her, his hands braced by her shoulders and his knees on either side of her hips. She felt caged by his body, but it felt protective rather than threatening, thrilling in a way she could barely articulate even to herself. She had no idea what he was going to do next.
Then he lowered his mouth and pressed a kiss to her navel, his tongue flicking inside her belly button and making her cry out in surprised pleasure. The cry turned to a moan as his mouth moved lower. Surely he wasn’t going to...?
But he was. His breath fanned hotly on her underwear before he hooked his finger through the top of it and slid it down her legs so it went the way of her tights. She was bare and exposed before him, and it made her both tense and strain in expectation, incredulous and waiting, a little bit embarrassed and yet so eager.
Her body arched off the bed as he pressed his mouth to her centre, the feeling so intimately invasive that her mind blurred into nothing but sensation. His tongue flicked among her folds, seeming to know exactly what touch and pressure would make her writhe mindlessly, her body attuned to the exquisite pressure building within her.
‘Rico.’ His name was a moan, a plea. Her hips bucked with the restless ache inside her that she desperately needed to be assuaged. ‘Rico.’
He lifted his head, laughing softly, and then he slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her up so he had even greater access to her most intimate self. She felt too crazed with desire and need now to feel embarrassed or exposed, wanting only more from him.
And he gave it, his mouth plundering her centre until she felt as if she were shattering inside, breaking apart into glittering pieces, her hips arching under his knowing touch as her cries rent the still, taut air.
She’d never known anything like it, had never had such an experience so intimate, so intense, so overwhelming.
Rico rolled on top of her, braced on his forearms, his breathing ragged. ‘Is it safe?’ he demanded in a ragged voice and Halina blinked up at him, still dazed by an experience she could only describe as completely life-changing.
Safe? What, she wondered hazily, was safe about this? She was risking everything, including her very soul, by being here with him. It wasn’t remotely safe. But she sensed that if she said as much Rico would exercise the incredible self-control she instinctively knew he had and roll off her, tell her to go. Their night would be over, and she couldn’t bear the thought.