Page 7 of The Grandmaster's Pawn (Checkmate)

“Beautiful.” Another kiss, this one firmer, closer to the shell of her ear.

“She’s perfect.”

Spinning Gemma around to face me, I hold her light green eyes as I sink my hands into her hair. “I was talking about you, darling.”

Her lips part, a subtle invitation, and when she angles her head slightly and lets her eyes flutter closed, I crush my mouth to hers, tasting the wine and the unique flavor I knowisGemma.

“I…never…do this,” she gasps as she winds her arms around my neck. “But—”

“One word, and I’ll stop.” I want this—want her—more than I have wanted anything in a very long time. But after tomorrow, she’ll never see me again, and I cannot let this fascinating woman have a single moment of regret.

“Don’t stop.” Her chest heaves, the drape of her siren-red blouse accentuating the swell of her breasts. “I want…you.”

“Then you shall have me.” I scoop her up in my arms and carry her into my bedroom.

“Light,” she says, a hint of panic lacing her tone, but as soon as I flip on the lamp, she kisses me with such passion, I let the moment pass, losing myself to her.

She has the buttons of my black silk shirt half-undone before I set her down, and as she slides the material down my shoulders, I’m drawn to her swollen lips, the way her tongue darts out to lick them.

“Can I…?” Her fingers rest on my belt, and I dip my head for another searing kiss.

“My sweetbijou, you can do whatever you want to me,” I whisper as I trail kisses from the corner of her mouth to her ear, and then down the curve of her neck.

Her breath hitches as she slides my zipper down, and when my pants fall to the floor, the sound she makes—it’s almost a mewl. “Bijou?”

“It’s French.” Cupping her arse, I draw her against me, her luscious curves too tempting to resist. “It means precious stone.”

One of my most prized acquisitions. Second only to The Siren. But now, I think Gemma might displace every single one of them.

“You have me at a disadvantage.” I step out of my pants, wearing only a pair of tight, black briefs.

Gemma turns and sweeps the hair off the back of her neck. Four buttons beckon me, and I flick them open, planting a tender kiss along her skin for each one. Guiding her arms over her head, I strip her of her red blouse and find an expanse of creamy skin begging to be kissed. Once I unhook her bra, I slide my palms around her and cup her breasts under the peach lace.

“What do you like,bijou?” I pinch one nipple between my thumb and forefinger, relishing the little shiver shaking her body. “This?”

“Yes.”

Though I want to take my time, to explore every sensual inch of her, my cock has other ideas. As does Gemma. She unzips her skirt, and bloody hell. She’s wearing a garter belt to match her bra and panties, attached to thigh-high nude stockings.

It’s as if she were made for me. And only me.

“Bloody hell, Gemma. Get on the bed. Now.”

At my growl, she turns with a shy smile on her face. “See something you like?”

“Everything.”

I stalk towards her, a predator about to capture its prey, and cage her body with mine. The sheets rustle as I kiss her breathless and she writhes under me. Fuck, I need to get her naked right now.

Her short nails take down my back, the light burn ratcheting my arousal. Threading my fingers through her hair, I twist, angling her head so I can nibble along her jaw and down the curve of her neck.

With every kiss, Gemma comes alive, the quiet, demure Assistant Curator giving way to a tigress, one I am going to tame.

“This,” I slide a finger under the peach lace thong, “must go.” She tries to sit up to reach for her garters, but I shake my head and pin her arms over her head. “Oh, no. This is part of the fun, my littlebijou. I get to unwrap you bit by bit.”

Crossing her wrists, I curl her hands around the edge of the headboard. “Do not let go.”

“Daniel!” The word escapes as a gasp, but she’s not upset with me. No. This lack of control pleases her greatly, and I slide down her body, kissing as I go, savoring the scent of her skin and the fresh wave of her arousal that fills my nose as I reach her mound.

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