Page 31 of The Secrets He Keeps

Pushing off from the door, he reached her in long, swift strides. He saw her ribs expand and her full breasts lift with a swift inhale that caught and held. Her kohl-rimmed eyes were narrowed and dark, watching him. Her reddened lips slightly parted to show the edge of white teeth.

Though his hands burned with the desire to smooth over her pale skin, to cover her breasts and pinch their peaks, he instead reached up to gently caress one of the roses in her hair.

Petals like the richest velvet. A red so dark it was nearly black. And as he carefully withdrew the first bloom from her golden tresses, he discovered the stem still held its thorns.

He took care releasing her twisted and curled coiffure, making sure not to tug too hard on the pins or tangle the blooms in his attempt to free them. Within minutes, her hair fell in long gilded waves to her hips, framing her stunning beauty in pale gold light.

His chest tightened as the fierce fire of possession engulfed him. “Callista.”

Her given name slipped from his lips on a ragged whisper before he could hold it back. Her eyes flashed, but she said nothing.

She was a creature beyond fantasy. An ancient and sensual goddess. A woman of myth and magic. And tonight she was his.

Still holding the last rose he’d slipped from her hair—a full-blown bloom with wicked thorns and a scent of sensual promise so intoxicating it made his head spin—Erik lifted the flower to brush the petals softly across her lips. Though he felt her gaze intent upon his face, he couldn’t keep from watching the path of the rose as he trailed it down the side of her neck, along her collarbone, then down between the heavy globes of her breasts to her navel. Circling the rose over her low belly, he watched her muscles tense with a satisfied smile.

Drawing the rose up again, he followed the undercurve of one breast. Her nipples tightened and puckered beneath his gaze, anticipating the velvet touch of the rose.

Tension rode gently across her brow as breath passed swiftly between her lips and her green eyes flashed.

Had the bewitching seductress finally fallen under his spell?

Holding her gaze, he circled the peak of first one breast, then the other. Her lashes fluttered as she spoke in a husky whisper. “Beware how much you tease. I’ve some skill in sensual torment, as well.”

“I fucking hope so,” he replied in a gravelly confession, drawing a soft chuckle from her throat.

He took that moment to lower his head and take one breast fully in his mouth, drawing the budded peak deep.

Her gasp was loud and raw as her hands lifted to grasp his head and her spine arched.

Slipping one arm around her waist, he held her secure to accept the luscious roll of his tongue and the sharp edge of his teeth. Her body fit perfectly within the concave curve of his. Their legs intertwined, her low belly was soft against his aching erection, and her breasts lifted to his mouth. When he turned his head to capture the other breast for equal attention, her fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the scalp while holding him to her.

She knew her pleasure and how to claim it.

But he wanted to give her more. More than she’d ever experienced. More than she knew was possible. He was offering all that he was to this woman tonight. Every breath and thunderous beat of his heart.

Grabbing her buttocks in his hands, he raised his head and lifted her against him. Her legs parted to wrap around his hips.

“Bed?” The one word was a question and a demand.

“Through the door behind you,” she gasped before rolling her hips along his length.

His grip on her lush rear tightened as he turned in place. If he didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make it to a bed, and he so wanted to have her spread out on the softness of a mattress as he attended to her pleasure.

The room beyond was dark compared to the outer room, but after only a moment, his eyes began to adjust to the dim, seductive candlelight.

The bedroom was small, and if the sitting room had been gilded fire, this room was all secret darkness and wicked night. The walls were black and silver brocade and thick black carpeting covered the floor. The four-poster bed was made of wood that gleamed a cherry red in the candlelight and was dressed in velvets the color of a midnight sky. But in the center of the room was a straight chaise bench, long and wide, covered in sleek red leather that no doubt felt like butter to touch.

The chaise gave him ideas. Sinfully delicious ideas.

Later.

He took her first to the bed, but he didn’t lay her down. Instead, he lowered her feet to the floor and pressed her back to the bedpost behind her. Their gazes locked and held, but neither of them spoke. He could feel her expectation, her trust—if only in this—as she appeared content in the moment to await his direction.

Grasping her wrists in his hands, he lifted them up over her head until she wrapped her elegant fingers around the smooth column of the bedpost. Then he slid her hands higher. Higher. Until she was stretched out, reaching far above her head, elongating her torso, and lifting her plump breasts.

Erik stepped back to admire the picture she made. Skin pale in the darkness, the swirl of black lace shielding her lower body, her gaze direct and challenging, her lips red and glistening.

“Gorgeous.”

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