Page 41 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

Charlotte yanked her gaze back in time to see his gold cufflinks drop onto the bedside table. One circled and rolled off, but he didn’t seem to notice, and she couldn’t move to pick it up because he’d already discarded his jacket. Now he was unbuttoning his shirt. Halfway down he lost patience and tugged. She heard something tear, threads undoubtedly, but at the same time she felt something shear free within her. A last lingering thread of caution?

There was no time to follow that thought, because Alessio’s hands dropped to his trousers, and her capacity for conscious thought died.

She leant forward, reaching for the tiny buckle that would undo her shoe.

‘Don’t! Let me do that.’

Alessio shucked his trousers, freeing himself too of socks and glossy shoes. He stood before her in nothing but black silk underwear and his own magnificence.

Charlotte felt her eyes grow round. She’d seen him shirtless. She’d seen him in rowing gear. But standing there, arms akimbo, lamplight spilling across his olive-gold skin and picking out in loving detail every line and curve of that impressive musculature, he looked like some fantasy hero made flesh. From his wide, sparely fleshed chest to his solid thighs, he was potently masculine.

Her gaze dropped to the fine line of dark hair that disappeared below the silk waistband, and instantly his erection twitched as if in response. Stunned, she met his eyes and saw his tight, rueful smile.

He lifted his shoulders. ‘What can I say? I want you, Charlotte, so very, very badly.’ He shook his head. ‘Badis the operative word, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be doing this. I pay your wages—’

‘If you say that again I’ll...!’

‘What will you do?’ One sleek eyebrow rose as his voice turned silky. ‘Punish me?’

Excitement sizzled through her. Not at the idea of punishing Alessio, but at the thought of doing with him whatever she wanted. Not that she was experienced enough to have too many ideas on that score, but with time, she’d definitely think of some.

‘Stop talking, Alessio. I’m tired of waiting.’

And there it was again, that pout, that slackening of thigh muscles that spread her knees wider, that straightening of her spine that thrust her breasts towards him.

For once he didn’t argue as he closed the space between them and dropped to his knees between her feet. In fact, she realised, his eyes looked a little glazed as they raked from her lips to her breasts and down to her sex.

One large hand closed around her ankle as nimble fingers plucked at the tiny buckle. Carefully, almost tenderly, he slid the sandal from her foot, then paused to press his thumbs to her instep, pushing slowly up her sole and sending lush, decadent heat pouring through her.

Charlotte bit back a moan of ecstasy.

‘You like that?’

When she managed to open her eyes, it was to discover his smug expression had slipped, replaced by something raw and hungry that called to the very heart of her being.

‘You can’t tell?’ she purred. His smile was brief as he massaged her foot again, working tired muscles and eliciting shudders of arousal. So much arousal. ‘I don’t think...’

Her words stopped as his lips feathered her heel, her ankle, then followed his smoothing palm up her calf. She knew about foreplay. Theoretically. She’d watched films and read books, but nothing had prepared her for Alessio focusing all that single-minded intensity on pleasing her. And he hadn’t even got to the good bits.

Alessio lifted her leg higher, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the groove behind her knee, and she shuddered as heat arced through her. Her fingers clutched the bedspread so tightly she’d probably shredded it. But the housekeeper in her, whose business it was to be concerned about such things, was nowhere to be found.

To her astonishment, Alessio propped her calf across his shoulder as he reached for her other shoe. With one leg up high, it felt natural to give in to the weight of gravity and lax muscles. She slumped back on the bed.

Her eyes drifted shut as he repeated the procedure, removing her sandal and massaging her other foot until she wondered if she might come from the sheer bliss of his touch. Kissing her slowly, deliberately, up and up her leg, building tingling anticipation in all the places he hadn’t yet touched.

Her nipples pinched hard and her hips circled with need, but still Alessio made her wait.

Finally, feeling drugged with arousal, she opened her eyes to find him watching her. A dark flush coloured those high cheekbones where his flesh pulled tight. His mighty chest rose and fell, and she felt his breath hot against her thigh.

A noise escaped her throat that she’d never heard before. A protest and a plea. She wanted to reach for him so she could finally feel him inside her. Yet another part of her adored this exquisite, sensual torture.

‘Are you very fond of this underwear?’

His voice was so thick it took her a second to understand his words.

She frowned. ‘No, it’s—’

‘Good.’

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