Page 25 of Bought by the Greek Tycoon

'Oh, yes. I—' His tongue delved between her parted lips before she could finish the sentence. Clinging to him, she trembled in the circle of his arms as he lifted her up and, slipping off her sandals, placed her on the massive bed.

'Every time I look at you I want to strip you naked,' Luke confided. Whipping off his top and shorts, kicking off his beach shoes, he joined her on the bed. Then he laughed. 'A mirrored canopy; it gets better and better.'

'I know.' She ran her hand over his biceps and across, to linger sensually on the muscular swell of his chest as need surged inside her. She smiled as Luke reached for her.

'Much as I love your touch, now it is not a good idea. I want to take this slow.' And taking her hand from his chest, he unbuttoned her blouse and slid it from her shoulders, his head dipping so his tongue could taste the tender crests of her breasts. She gasped.

'You are so receptive,' Luke told her huskily, taking the tie from her hair. Easing her flat on the bed, he took her shorts and panties from her body. The silver flame of his eyes wandered over her beautiful face, her slender shoulders, and moving a long leg between hers, he leant back to stare down at her. The breath left Jemma's lungs when she registered the ferocious extent of his arousal.

'For you.' Luke smiled, a wickedly amused twist of his mobile mouth that was incredibly seductive. 'But not yet.' Reaching forward, he took her hands and spread them wide on each side of her body. 'Stay like that,' he commanded, as his gaze skimmed lower over her rose-tipped breasts to the red-gold curls at the junction of her thighs.

Jemma's hands curled into the soft silken sheets at her sides but she did as he said, trembling like a leaf in the wind as his hands cupped her breasts and gently kneaded them. Then with finger and thumb he nipped the rigid tips until a whimpering moan of pure pleasure escaped her.

'Easy, Jemma. I want to take full advantage of this extraordinary room,' he said, and, leaning forward, he teasingly outlined the curve of her mouth with his tongue before slipping it inside with a wickedness that made her blood thicken and then flow like molten lava through her veins.

She lifted her arms to hold him, but he placed them back on the bed. 'No touching—not yet,' he decreed, before resuming toying with the rigid peaks of her breasts, this time with his mouth. The rhythmic suction sent ever strengthening sexual messages through her body until she cried out his name.

'You like that?'

'Yes,' she breathed as he leant back again, his hand moving lower to her stomach and the soft silken curls below, his fingertips slipping between the velvet folds and lingering there to tease and caress with subtle expertise.

'Oh, yes.' Jemma moaned, her writhing body on fire.

Then, catching sight of the reflection in the mirrored roof of the canopy, she gasped.

She was splayed beneath him, a willing prisoner to the tormenting touch of his fingers. She saw the sheen of sweat on his sleek muscled body, the straining strength of his arousal. Shaking with the agonising ache of frustrated desire, she widened her eyes to molten gold pools of passion as Luke reared up and sank into the sleek, moist heat of her.

His powerful shoulders locked, and as he thrust hard and deep her control shattered. She clutched him, her fingers digging into his back, her internal muscles clenching around the entire length of him.

'Ah, Jemma,' he groaned, easing back.

'Don't stop,' she whimpered.

'No way.' He kissed her. 'But it's my turn to view.' He flipped her around to straddle him, silver fire burning away every trace of grey in his smouldering eyes as he reared up beneath her.

Jemma's head fell back as he rocked her to the very core, their bodies locked in a frantic primitive coupling. In a tangle of arms and legs he spun her around on the decadent bed with a thrusting driven passion that finally shattered his control. A rough groan was torn from his throat and the world exploded around Jemma in wave after wave of ecstasy so sublime she thought she might die of it. Dimly she was aware of sobbing out his name, then Luke was on top of her again, his great body rigid, racked with great shuddering convulsions as she was swept into a mindless oblivion.

When she opened her eyes Luke was lying across her with his head buried in the curve of her shoulder. She stared up and saw the reflection of his magnificent bronzed body, his skin beaded with sweat, his buttocks clenched, and felt the still throbbing length of him inside her. She closed her eyes again.

Some time later Luke's deep voice rasped against her ear. 'I'm too heavy—I don't want to flatten you into the bed.' And he rolled off onto his back.

Jemma slowly opened her eyes once more, and her eyes met his in the mirror above. 'You're not that heavy,' she murmured, letting her gaze wander down over his magnificent torso. 'But is that a suggestion of a paunch I spy?' she teased, glancing back at his face. She saw where his eyes were fixed and suddenly realised she was equally naked. She felt vaguely uncomfortable. It was one thing for lovers to be naked together, but there was something voyeuristic and slightly unpleasant about a mirrored bed.

'Cheeky.' Luke leant up on one elbow to look down at her. 'I'm a man in my prime.' He grinned. 'But your aunt must have been one heck of a woman, with a seriously erotic imagination.' His eyes caught sight of a particular picture on the wall and it almost made him blush—which would have been a first. 'Though I suppose it could have been her lover's idea.'

'You could be right about the fantasy thing. I know that it was after spending ten days sharing this room with my aunt last year that I fell into your bed on the yacht,' Jemma said dryly. 'Maybe it wasn't the wine. Maybe I received a subliminal message or something.'

Luke chuckled; he much preferred that scenario than wondering if she had used him as a substitute for her dead husband. Pure lust he could appreciate, as had the man who had paid for this love nest, he mused. 'Do you know who your aunt's lover was?' he asked idly.

'No, I have no idea.'

Luke's eyes narrowed on her supine body. Her fabulous hair was fanned out in a wild halo around her head, a few tendrils falling over her breasts, and a slight flush of pink was spreading over her skin and colouring her lovely face. Her glorious amber eyes avoided his and he knew she was lying. He could actually feel it in the slight tension of her body touching his own. But why? 'Your aunt never even gave you a hint?' he prompted, giving her a second chance to come clean.

'No.' Jemma sat up and swept her mass of hair back from her forehead. 'And it doesn't matter now she's dead.' She flicked him a glance. 'Do you realise we have ended up upside down on this bed?' she said, swinging her legs to the floor.

'There isn't a correct way round on a circular bed,' Luke pointed out with a slightly cynical smile, well aware that she had deliberately tried to change the subject and deciding to let it go. After all, it had nothing to do with him, but oddly it rankled that Jemma had lied; she obviously didn't trust him with the secret. But why should he care? She was married to him, and without conceit he knew the rampant desire that flared within him every time he looked at her was returned one hundred per cent by her. Their sexual compatibility was incredible. He only had to touch her and she was incapable of hiding her response—she didn't even try But it didn't stop him wondering what other secrets she kept hidden from him…

'No, I suppose not.' Jemma forced a reciprocal grin to her lips and inexplicably she shivered. Suddenly the room seemed claustrophobic, and she had a terrific urge to get out. She found her shorts and panti

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