Virgin for the Billionaire's Taking

She had to bite on her bottom lip to stop herself from begging him to take off her top and expose her breast to his gaze, his touch, to the hot hard caress of his mouth.

Frantically she tensed her muscles, squeezing her thighs together as she felt a surge of longing rocket through her.

As though he guessed what was happening to her Jay cupped her hip, his fingers kneading her rhythmically. She was leaning fully against the wall now, whilst Jay’s hands caressed every inch of her, making her quiver from head to foot in open longing.

Was this something he had learned from the Kama Sutra?

When he took her hand and placed it against his own body she almost sobbed with pleasure. Her hands were long and slender, but the hard swollen length of him extended beyond her outstretched fingertips. Keira closed her eyes, pleasure a dark velvet blanket of sensuality behind her closed eyelids. She ached as though she had a fever for the feel of him inside her. She had had no idea there could be desire like this—instant, immediate, hot and hungry, a need that burned everything else into oblivion and drove a person on relentlessly until it was sated.

No doubt if Jay knew the truth about her he would think her very unworldly not to have experienced something like this before. Unlike him!

How many times…? How many women…? That thought burned through her in a hot agony of molten jealousy that stabbed through her, stiffening her body into rigid rejection of what she was feeling and thinking.

Abruptly she was shocked back into reality, her desire chilling into sick self-disgust. What was she thinking of? How could she be behaving like this when she knew…?

Panic twisted and speared inside her.

She had to get away from him—now. Before it was too late and she became one of those women, a woman like her mother, who loved the wrong man and made the wrong choices.

Loved…

Keira started to tremble violently with reaction. Jay’s hands were still on her body but she pushed them away, taking him by surprise and opening the door before he could stop her.

Once free of his office she started to walk faster, finally breaking into a run so that by the time she had reached the sanctuary of her room her heart was thudding against her chest wall. From exertion, or from the fear she had brought from Jay’s office with her? The fear that she might be falling in love with him.

Keira sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands.

Jay could feel beads of sweat forming on his skin and then chilling as he fought to regain his self-control. He could hear the sound of his own breathing, shallow and strained, whilst his heart thudded and pounded accusingly against his ribs. His body ached and raged against its denial, but Jay was more concerned with his inability to control his emotions rather than any inability to control his flesh.

How could it have happened? How could he have allowed his physical desire for a woman to lead him into the kind of behaviour he had exhibited today? Pursuing her, burning up with fury because he had seen her smiling at another man, wanting to physically stamp his possession on her and deny that same opportunity to any other man.

Jay strode across the room and threw open the shutters to let in the night air. But nothing could rid his senses of the scent of Keira, and of his own arousal. They clung together, wrapped around one another as though they belonged together, filling his head with tormenting images. How could they belong together?

Sex was an act that took place between two separate people who returned to that separateness. If Keira hadn’t run from him he would have taken her to bed…

But she had, ignoring both her own arousal and his. And she had been aroused. Jay knew that. He moved awkwardly, forced to tense his body against the still far too potent memory of how she had reacted when he had touched her, her lips clinging to his, her nipples swelling tightly into his palm, her sex soft and wet.

Irritably Jay speedily shut down the too easily conjured up mental pleasure his senses were giving him. He was a fool if he couldn’t recognise that a good part of the reason he wanted her was the fact that she was playing a game that meant he couldn’t have her. A game in which she offered and then withdrew that offer. A game that was one of the oldest in the world.

He took a deep breath of the cool air. It was totally illogical that he should continue to want her, knowing what she was. But a feeling he didn’t want to admit to twisted his belly. Jealousy? Savagely he dismissed the mocking inner voice he didn’t want to hear. It was impossible for him to feel jealous. Jealousy was an emotion, and he simply did not ‘do’ emotions. Not ever—not with anyone.