Page 95 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

‘Show me.’

‘With pleasure.’

His hand on the button made the doors swish open then he was drawing her into the apartment, across the white marble of the foyer and into the first reception room. Another swipe of his hand and a couple of lamps illuminated.

Long fingers around hers, Lex guided her deeper into the apartment. But her need was too great, the distance to the bedrooms too far.

She halted. ‘I don’t want to wait.’

Portia saw something flit across his face, edging his taut features with a hint of wildness. Her heart beat faster as he smiled. It was the look of a hungry man sighting a banquet.

She shivered and even that, the slight friction of silk against skin, aroused her further.

Without a word, Lex led her to a long sofa upholstered in soft, pale suede.

‘I don’t want to wait either.’

Still holding her hand, he sat in the middle of the sofa, his hand going to his belt, drawing it open. She watched, her chest rising on a stymied breath, as he undid the fastening of his trousers, then moved to the zip.

Interior muscles clenched while other parts of her loosened and liquefied. She wanted Lex so badly.

The taste of him was in her mouth and she needed him in her body, as if it had been years since they’d been together instead of weeks.

This, her need for him, had never altered.

‘Portia.’

The invitation was half command, half plea. She lifted her gaze to his and what she saw there planted a kernel of hope in her breast.

Whatever happened between them, they were equally bound by this.

Holding his eyes, she gathered the fragile fabric of her skirt, bunching it up to reach beneath and drag down the damp scrap of lace and silk that she wore beneath it.

Lex’s hissed breath was loud even over the thrumming in her ears. His expression exalted her. She felt invincible under that heated, mesmerised stare.

Still holding her skirt up, she moved closer, putting one knee on the seat beside him. Automatically he steadied her until she found her balance, straddling his lap.

His breath cocooned her, the heat of his long limbs and the lambent glow of anticipation in his desire-hooded eyes.

‘Portia,’ he said again.

Just that, but in a voice so hoarse and deep, it touched her heart.

She shuffled closer, holding herself above his lap as he positioned himself beneath her. She couldn’t wait, the tension inside was wound to breaking point.

Portia sank a little and felt the hard velvet head of his erection. A shiver erupted, running from her core, along her limbs and up her spine. Her dress fell as she reached to clutch his shoulders, offering her lips as she lowered herself, finally coming to rest as they locked together.

This kiss was ineffably tender. It seemed to hold a whole world of promise and recognition. As if all that had gone before were merely a prelude.

Lex’s hands swept her back, stroked her bare nape, then slipped beneath her dress to her hips.

Urgency reignited, that stunning moment of stillness obliterated by mutual need.

Portia rose, friction stoking the fire between them. When she sank again Lex lifted to meet her, his hands tugging her down. There was no faltering, just a smooth, urgent synergy that bordered on the miraculous.

Surely such pleasurewasa miracle. Not just the building physical bliss, the urgency rushing through her towards inevitable climax, but what she saw in Lex’s eyes. What she felt deep, deep inside as she looked back and gave herself to him.

Her doubts fled as rapture rose.

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