Page 40 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

Far from wanting to cover herself, Charlotte pushed her shoulders back, offering her bare breasts to him while unconsciously her lips formed into a provocative pout.

She’d never pouted in her life, or offered her body for any man’s delectation. But this wasn’t one-sided. She got as much pleasure revelling in Alessio’s ardent response as he did from her actions.

But even more pleasure when he groaned, deep at the back of his throat and pulled her higher, drawing his tongue the length of her breast before circling her nipple and finally catching it in his teeth.

She screamed then. Not words but a strangled sound that melded desperation and delight as her body caught fire. She was aware of her fingers digging into the fine fabric at his shoulders, of the restless arch of her lower body into his and the certainty that only Alessio could satisfy this consuming craving.

‘Too many clothes,’ he muttered against her breast, and she agreed, reaching for his perfect bow tie.

But Alessio wasn’t talking about himself. In a single movement, he shoved the heavy fabric down from her waist to her hips, from where it slid to tent around her ankles. She was so turned on that even that brush of fabric on bare skin overloaded her senses.

Charlotte swallowed hard, her tongue flicking out to moisten suddenly dry lips. She saw his heavy-lidded gaze track the movement.

‘I want to eat you all up. Slowly.’ His accent had thickened as his voice dropped to a sensual burr that sent a ribbon of heat straight to her sex.

‘Yes!’

Restlessly she shifted her weight, trying to mould herself to his body again, but her high heels caught in her discarded dress.

Once more deft hands caught her, encircling her bare waist in a way that made her feel delicate and almost tiny against his superior size. Charlotte was fit and active and by no means weak. Yet now she was consummately aware of the profound physical differences between male and female.

She didn’t even gasp when he simply lifted her off the floor, stepped over the discarded ball gown and put her down on his bed. Instead, she delighted in his strength.

Sitting on the side of the bed, wearing nothing but ivory lace knickers, while well over six feet of fully dressed, pure male magnificence towered over her, Charlotte should have felt out of her depth. Instead it felt like freedom after a lifetime of shackles.

She leaned back a little to take in the view, resting on palms planted on the bedspread that she tidied every morning. She might even have opened her knees a little wider as Alessio’s hot gaze ran the length of her body. The silk and lace between her legs was wet with arousal. Could he see that?

Shesaw the enormous bulge in his trousers and the way his chest rose mightily as if he couldn’t suck in enough air.

Yet he didn’t move, and though his eyes glittered with hunger, something about the harsh twist to his lips made her wonder if he’d changed his mind.

Her confidence splintered as a chill doused her. She sat up straight and for the first time felt the urge to cover her breasts, except pride forbade that.

‘Having second thoughts?’ Charlotte wanted to sound understanding, but the words came out scratchy. And full of a regret she couldn’t hide.

Of course he has second thoughts. He’s still mourning his wife. How could you possibly think...?

‘No.’ His laugh was harsh and totally lacking amusement. ‘I should be but, for my sins, I’m too selfish for that.’

She was torn between relief and curiosity, but before she could ask more, he spoke. ‘Areyouhaving second thoughts?’

She was shaking her head before he’d stopped talking. So much for pride.

‘Good,’ he growled. ‘Because I meant what I said, Charlotte. I want to devour you, every inch of you. I need you so badly—’

‘Then stop talking and take off your clothes.’

Nerves made her voice strident, and she saw his mouth curve as speculation gleamed in his eyes. ‘You like giving orders? Maybe later if you’re very, very good...’

How had she ever imagined he was anything but totally in control? Just the teasing flick of one raised eyebrow and that glimmer of humour in his dark face had her shifting on the bed, trying to ease the desperate ache between her legs where the pressure built so high it felt like she might explode. If she didn’t have him soon she’d go crazy.

Or maybe she was already crazy, thinking this could work. This man had been a legendary lover before his marriage. He’d expect someone experienced.

Should she tell him?

And risk rejection?

The inner debate ended the moment he ripped his bow tie off and flung it towards a chair. It slithered to the ground. So different to the neatly folded clothes he left for laundering each day.

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