From New York With Love

His mouth twisted derisively. ‘In my experience, yes.’

In Thia’s limited experience too...

She’d only dated maybe half a dozen times these past six years, and had always ended up being friends with those men rather than lovers. Including Jonathan. Although she suspected that their friendship had ceased after his behaviour yesterday, and yet again this morning, when he had packed her belongings into her suitcase and handed it over to Lucien seemingly without a second thought as to where or how she was.

‘Stop thinking about Miller,’ Lucien rasped.

She blinked. ‘How did you know—?’

‘I think I’m intelligent enough to know when the woman I’m with is thinking about another man,’ he bit out harshly, having known from the way Cyn’s gaze had become slightly unfocused that her attention was no longer completely here with him. Which, considering her hand was currently pressed against his pulsing erection, was less than flattering.

She gave a rueful smile. ‘I sincerely doubt it’s happened to you often enough for that to be true.’

‘It’s never happened to me before, as far as I’m aware,’ he grated.

He lifted her hand away impatiently before pulling her to her feet, so that she now stood just inches in front of him. His other hand moved beneath her chin to raise her face, so that she had no choice but to look up at him. ‘And, yes, I was challenging you earlier. I wanted to unnerve you a little by inviting you to my apartment. But I did not have dinner with you here as a way of hiding you away. I’m insulted that you should ever have thought that I did.’ He was more than insulted—he actually felt hurt that Cyn could believe him capable of behaving in that way where she was concerned...

Thia could see that he was. His eyes glittered dangerously, there was angry colour along those high cheekbones, his lips had thinned and his jaw thrust forward forcefully.

‘I apologise if I was mistaken.’

‘You were,’ he bit out. ‘You still are.’

She nodded; Lucien was too upset not to be telling her the truth.

‘Have I succeeded in ruining the evening?’ She looked up at him through long dark lashes.

Lucien eyed her impatiently. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

She drew in a shaky breath. ‘How about we clear away in here while you decide?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you humouring me, Thia?’

The fact that Lucien had called her Thia for the first time was indicative of how upset he was. ‘Is it working?’ she deliberately used the same phrase he had to her earlier, when she had challenged him about always wanting his own way.

Some of the tension left his shoulders. ‘Maybe a little,’ he conceded dryly. ‘And we can just blow out the candles in here and leave all this for housekeeping to clear away in the morning.’ He indicated the dinner table beside them.

Thia’s stomach did a somersault. ‘Oh...’

He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘I have no idea how you do that...’

‘Do what?’ She looked up at him curiously.

‘Make me want to laugh when just seconds ago I was so angry with you I wanted to kiss you senseless!’ He gave a self-disgusted shake of his head as the last of his earlier tension eased from his expression.

‘Senseless, hmm?’ Thia eyed him teasingly. ‘According to you, that wouldn’t be too difficult!’

‘See?’ Lucien chuckled wryly, shaking his head.

The sudden hunger in Lucien’s gaze told Thia this was the ideal time for her to suggest she return to her own suite in the hotel, to thank Lucien for dinner, and his company and conversation, and then leave, never to see or hear from him again.

It was the latter part of that plan that stopped her from doing any of those things... ‘Does one preclude the other?’ she repeated provocatively, daringly.

‘You want me to kiss you senseless...?’ he prompted gruffly.

She drew in a sharp breath, knowing this was a moment of truth. ‘Even more than I enjoy watching you laugh,’ she acknowledged shyly.

Lucien’s piercing gaze narrowed on her searchingly. ‘Be very sure about this, Thia,’ he finally warned her. ‘I want you so badly that once I have you in my bed I’m unlikely to let you out of it again until I’ve made love to you at least half a dozen times.’

Thia’s heart leapt as he jumped from kissing her senseless to taking her to his bed. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest at the thought of all that currently leashed but promised passion. Of having this man—having Lucien Steele!—want to make love to her with such an intensity of feeling. It was an intensity of passion she didn’t know, in her inexperience, that she could even begin to match...

But she would at least like to the opportunity to try!

‘Can you do that? I thought that men needed to...to rest for a while...recuperate before...well, you know...’

He arched dark brows. ‘Let’s give it a try, shall we? Besides, I don’t recall giving any time limit for making love to you those half a dozen times.’

No, he hadn’t, had he? Thia acknowledged even as her cheeks burned. In embarrassment or excitement? She really wasn’t sure! ‘I only have one more full day left before I leave New York, and don’t you have to go to work tomorrow?’

‘Not if I have you in my bed, no,’ Lucien assured her softly.

Thia’s heart was now beating a wild tattoo in her chest and she breathed shallowly, feeling as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice: behind her was the safety of returning to her own hotel suite, in front of her the unknown of sharing Lucien’s bed for the night.

She drew in a shaky breath. ‘Well, then...’

* * *

Lucien’s control was now so tightly stretched that he felt as if the slightest provocation from Cyn would make it snap. That he would snap, and simply rip that T-shirt off her in the same way he had her blouse earlier.

It was an uncomfortable feeling for a man who never lost control. Of any situation and especially of himself. But this woman—barely tall enough to reach his shoulders, so slender he felt as if he might crush her if he held her too tightly—had thrown him off balance from the moment he first saw her.

Just twenty-four admittedly eventful hours ago...!

‘Well, then...what...?’ he prompted slowly.

The slenderness of Cyn’s throat moved as she swallowed before answering him. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

‘No more arguments or questions? Just “Let’s go to bed”?’ He raised dark brows.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before replying huskily. ‘I—if that’s okay with you, yes.’

If it was okay with him?

If Cyn only knew how much he wanted to rip her clothes off right now, before laying her down on the carpet and just taking her, right here and right now, plunging into the warmth of her again and again, then she would be probably be shocked out of her mind. He was out of his mind—for this woman.

Which was the reason Lucien was going to do none of those things. He was balanced on the edge of his self-control right now, and needed to slow things down. For Cyn’s sake rather than his own. Because he didn’t want to frighten her with the intensity of the desire she aroused in him.

‘It’s more than okay with me, Cyn,’ he assured her gruffly, blowing out the candles on the table and throwing the room into darkness before putting his arm about the slenderness of her waist as he guided her out of the dining room and down the hallway towards his bedroom.

* * *

Thia’s nervousness deepened with each step she took down the hallway towards sharing Lucien’s bed. To sharing Lucien Steele’s bed!

Those other women—the ones she had seen online, photographed with Lucien—had all looked sophisticated and confident, and they no doubt had the physical experience, the confidence in their sexuality, to go with those looks. Whereas she—

For goodness’ sake, she was twenty-three years old and she was going to lose her virginity some time—so why not with Lucien, a man she found as physically exciting as she did knee-meltingly attractive. A man who made her feel safe and protected as well as desired.

Was that all she felt for Lucien?

Or was she already a little—more than a little!—in love with him?

And wouldn’t that be the biggest mistake of her life—in love with a man whose relationships never seemed to last longer than a month?

‘Cyn?’

She blinked as she realised that while she had been so lost in thought they had already entered what must be the master bedroom—Lucien’s bedroom. A huge four-poster bed dominated the shadowed room, and those shadows made it impossible for her to tell whether the black, white and chrome décor Lucien seemed to prefer had spilt over into his bedroom. The carpet beneath her feet was certainly dark, as were the curtains and the satin cover and cushions piled on the bed, but the actual colours eluded her in the darkness...

‘Say now if you’re feeling...less than sure about this,’ Lucien prompted gruffly, his hands resting lightly on her waist as he turned her so that she was looking up at him.

The one thing Thia was totally sure about was that she wanted Lucien. Her body ached with that longing; her breasts were swollen and tingling, nipples hard and aroused, and there was a heated dampness between her thighs. At the same time she so didn’t want to be a disappointment to him!

It would have been better if he had just made love to her right there in the dining room. If he hadn’t given her time to think, to become so nervous.

But this was Lucien Steele, a man of sophistication and control. He wasn’t the type of man to be so desperate for a woman he would rip her clothes off—well, apart from Thia’s blouse earlier. But that had been an accident rather than passion! Or the type of man to make wild and desperate love to her.

Thia chewed worriedly on her bottom lip as she looked up into his hard and shadowed face, at those pale eyes glittering down at her intently in the darkness. ‘I am a little nervous,’ she admitted softly. ‘I’m not as experienced as you are, and there have been all those other women for you—’ She broke off as he placed silencing fingertips against her lips.

‘I’m clean medically, if that’s what’s bothering you.’

‘It isn’t,’ she assured him hastily, her cheeks blushing a fiery-red. ‘And I—I’m—er—clean too.’ How could she be anything else when she had never been to bed with anyone?

He nodded abruptly. ‘And that’s the last time I want to talk about other people for either of us.’

‘But—’

‘Cyn, neither of us is experienced when it comes to each other.’ He moved his hand to gently cup her cheek. ‘Half the fun will be in learning which caress or touch pleases the other,’ he added huskily.

Fun? Going to bed with a man, making love with him, was fun? Thia had never thought of it in quite that light before, but she had no reason to doubt what Lucien said. He had always been totally, bluntly honest when he spoke to her.

‘You’re right.’ She shook off her feelings of nervousness and straightened determinedly. ‘Is it okay if I just use the bathroom?’

‘Of course.’ Lucien released her before stepping back. ‘Don’t be long,’ he added huskily as he opened the door to the adjoining bathroom and switched on the light for her.

Thia leant back weakly against the door the moment it closed behind her and she was alone in the bathroom, her legs shaking so badly she could no longer stand without that support at her back.

* * *

Lucien stared at that closed bathroom door for several seconds after Cyn had closed it so firmly behind her, a frown darkening his brow as he considered her behaviour just now. She was more than just nervous. She seemed almost afraid. Just of him? Or of any man?

Why? Had something happened to her in the past? Maybe even with Miller? Something to make her nervous about going to bed with another man? It seemed highly possible, when she’d admitted she had been thinking of the other man when he’d called her on it a few minutes ago. It made Lucien wish now that he had given in to the impulse he’d had this morning to punch the other man in the face as Miller threw Cyn’s belongings into her suitcase without so much as a thought or a question as to what was going to happen to her.

Whatever the reason for Cyn’s nervousness, Lucien didn’t intend adding to it. He was glad now that he had shown such restraint a few minutes ago. He wanted to make slow and leisurely love to her, no matter the cost to his own self-control. Wanted to touch and pleasure Cyn until she could think of nothing else, no one else, but him and their lovemaking—

Lovemaking? Was he actually falling in love with Cyn?

It was an emotion he had always avoided in the past, and his choice of women—experienced and self-absorbed—was probably a reflection of that decision. Until now. Cyn was like no other woman he had ever known. And, yes, she was slipping—already had slipped?—beneath his defences.

None of which he wanted to explore too deeply right now.

Lucien crossed the bedroom to turn on the bedside lamp before turning back the bedcovers and quickly removing his clothes. His shaft bobbed achingly now that it was free of the confines of his denims.

He lingered beside the bed, looking down at the black silk bedsheets as he imagined how right Cyn would look lying there, with that beautiful, pale, luminescent body spread out before him like a feast he wanted to gorge himself on. Just the thought of it was enough to cause his aching erection to throb eagerly, releasing pre-cum onto the bulbous tip before it spilt over and dripped slowly down his length.

Sweet heaven!

Lucien grasped his length before smoothing that liquid over it with the soft pad of his thumb, knowing he had never been this aroused before, this needy of any woman. Not in the way he now needed—desired—Cyn...

* * *

Thia studied herself critically in the mirror over the bathroom sink once she had taken her clothes off. Her face was pale, eyes fever-bright, her hair a silky black curtain across her bared shoulders. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, breasts firm and uptilting, tipped by engorged rosy-red nipples. Her waist was slender, hips flaring gently around the dark thatch of curls between her thighs, her legs long and slender.

She was as ready as she was ever going to be to walk out of here and go to bed with Lucien!

That courage didn’t include walking out stark naked, though, and quickly she pulled on the black silk robe she had found hanging behind the bathroom door, tying the belt of what was obviously Lucien’s own bathrobe tightly about the slenderness of her waist before taking a deep breath and opening the bathroom door, switching off the light...

Only to come to an abrupt halt in that doorway as she realised that Lucien had turned on a single lamp on the bedside table, allowing her to see that the bedroom was indeed decorated in those black, white and chrome colours Lucien favoured. Lucien himself was already lying in the bed, that bronzed chest bare, only a black silk sheet draped over him and concealing his lower body.

She had thought they would make love in the darkness—had imagined slipping almost anonymously beneath the bedcovers and then—

‘Take off the robe, Cyn.’

She raised a startled gaze to Lucien and saw he was leaning up on his elbow, causing the muscles to bulge in his arm, as he looked across at her with those glittering silver eyes. The darkness of his overlong hair was now tousled and falling rakishly over his forehead, probably after he had removed his T-shirt.

He was utterly beautiful in the same way that a deadly predator was beautiful—with all the power in that sleek and muscled body just waiting to be unleashed.

‘I want to look at you,’ he encouraged gruffly.

Thia’s throat had gone so dry she could barely speak. ‘Doesn’t that work both ways?’

‘Sure.’ The intensity of his gaze never left hers as he slowly kicked down the black silk sheet.

Thia’s breath caught in her throat and she could only stand and stare. At the width of his shoulders. At his muscled chest covered in that misting of dark hair. She could now see that it trailed down over his navel and grew thicker at the base of his arousal.

Oh. Good. Grief.

That was never going to fit inside her!

Lucien was a tall man, several inches over six feet and his bronze-skinned body was deeply muscled, so it was no surprise that his aroused shaft was in perfect proportion to the rest of him—at least nine, possibly ten inches long, and so thick and wide Thia doubted her fingers would meet if she were to clasp them around it as she so longed, ached to do. Just as she longed to caress, to touch and become familiar with every perfect inch of him!

Even so, her wide gaze moved back unerringly to the heavy thrust of his arousal.

Maybe it was like those ‘one size fits all’ pairs of socks or gloves you could buy? Hadn’t she read somewhere, in one of those sophisticated women’s magazines often left lying around in a dentist’s waiting room, that if a woman was prepared properly, with lots of foreplay, she was capable of stretching down there, accommodating any length or thickness—

‘Cyn?’

Her startled gaze moved back up to Lucien’s face and, her cheeks flamed with colour as she met the heat in his eyes. He looked across at her expectantly, his hand held out to her invitingly, obviously waiting for her to unfasten the robe and remove it completely before joining him in the bed...

CHAPTER EIGHT

LUCIEN TAMPED DOWN the urgency he felt to get out of bed and go to Cyn and instead waited patiently, allowing Cyn to take her time, to adjust. Allowing her to be the one to come to him.

They had all night—hours and hours for him to pleasure her into coming for him!

Right now her face was so pale that her ivory skin appeared almost translucent. Blue veins showed at the delicacy of her temples and her cobalt-blue eyes were dark and shadowed as she continued to look across at him, cheeks pale, her lips slightly parted, as if she were having trouble breathing.

‘I’m starting to get a complex, Cyn,’ he murmured ruefully.

Her startled gaze was quickly raised to his. ‘You are...? But you’re beautiful, Lucien,’ she murmured huskily.

‘So are you.’ Lucien slowly lifted his arm to hold out his hand to her again, holding his breath as the nervousness in Cyn’s gaze told him that she might turn tail and run if he made any sort of hasty move in her direction. Something he found surprisingly endearing rather than irritating.

Cyn was so different from the women he had been with in the past. Beautiful women, certainly, but it was usually a pampered and sometimes enhanced beauty, after hours spent at beauty salons and spas or beneath a plastic surgeon’s knife. And all those women, without exception, had been confident of their perfectly toned bodies, of their sexual appeal.

Cyn, on the other hand, obviously had no time or money to spend at beauty salons or spas. The sleekness of her body was just as nature had intended it, as was her breathtaking beauty. A beauty that was all the more appealing because Cyn seemed so completely unaware of it, of its effect on him and every other man she came into contact with. The women in New York society might have no interest in furthering the acquaintance of student/waitress Cynthia Hammond from England, but Lucien very much doubted the men felt the same way!

And Lucien was the lucky man who had her all to himself—for tonight, at least...

* * *

Thia was frozen in place—couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could only continue to stand in the bathroom doorway as she stared across at Lucien in mute appeal, inwardly cursing herself for her gauche behaviour but unable to do anything about it.

‘Please, Cyn!’ he said gruffly.

It was the aching need that deepened Lucien’s voice to a growl which finally broke her out of that icy cage, causing Thia to take one step forward, and then another, until she finally stood beside the bed, allowing Lucien to reach out and enfold one of her trembling hands in his much warmer one.

He lifted it slowly to his lips, his gaze still holding hers as those lips grazed the back of her knuckles, tongue rasping, tasting. ‘You are so very beautiful, Cyn.’

The warmth of his breath brushed lightly against her over-sensitised skin. She swallowed. ‘I believe you’ll find the saying is Beautiful as sin...’

‘Nothing could be as beautiful as you.’ He gave a slow shake of his head.

At this moment in time, Thia finished ruefully inside her head. Right here and right now she had Lucien’s complete attention. But tomorrow it would be different—

Oh, to hell with tomorrow!

For once in her carefully constructed life she was going to take not what was safe, or what she could afford, but what she wanted.

And tonight she so very much wanted to be here with Lucien.

She lowered her lashes and pulled her hand gently from his grasp, before moving to unfasten the belt of the robe, shrugging the black silk from her shoulders and hearing Lucien’s breath catching in his throat as she allowed the robe to slide down her arms to fall onto the carpet at her feet. She was completely naked in front of him as she finally raised her lashes to look at him.

* * *

‘You’re exquisite,’ Lucien groaned, taking the time to admire each and every curve and dip and hollow of her naked body before moving smoothly up onto his knees at the edge of the bed, nullifying the difference in their heights, putting his face on a level with hers as his arms moved about the slenderness of her waist.

Her hands moved up to clasp onto his shoulders as he pulled her in closer to him. Her skin felt so soft and she was so slender Lucien felt as if he could wrap his arms about her twice. His palms spread, fingers splayed across her shapely bottom, as he settled those slender curves into his much harder ones before touching his mouth lightly against hers.

Lucien moved his lips across her creamy soft cheek to the softness beneath her ear, along the column of her throat. The rasp of his tongue tasted the shady hollows at the base of her throat as one of his hands curled about the gentle thrust of her breast, the soft pad of his thumb unerringly finding, stroking the aroused nipple.

‘Look at the two of us, Cyn,’ he groaned throatily. ‘See how beautiful we are together,’ he encouraged as she looked down to where his hand cupped her breast. He looked at that contrast himself. Ivory and bronze...

Her skin looked so white against the natural bronze tone of Lucien’s. Ice and fire. And fire invariably melted ice, didn’t it?

Thia’s inhibitions were melting, and her earlier apprehension along with it, as she twined her arms over those strong, muscled shoulders, her fingers becoming entangled in silky dark hair as she initiated a kiss between them this time—gentle at first, and then deeper, hungrier, as their passion flared out of control.

Lucien continued to kiss her even as Thia felt his arms move beneath her knees and about her shoulders. He lifted her easily up and onto the bed, lying her down almost reverently onto the black silk sheets before stretching his long length beside her, his gaze holding hers before his head lowered, lashes falling down against those hard cheekbones, and his lips parted. He drew her nipple into his mouth, gently suckling, licking that aroused nub, even as his hands caressed the ribcage beneath her breasts, the slender curve of her waist, before moving lower still.

Thia arched into his caresses as her nervousness faded completely and pleasure coursed through her—building, building, until she moved restlessly against him, needing more, wanting more. She was groaning low in her throat as she felt Lucien’s fingers against the silky curls between her thighs, seeking and finding the nubbin hidden there and moving lower still, to where the slickness of her juices had made her wet, so very wet, circling, moistening her swollen lips.

His thumb pressed delicately against the nubbin above and still she wanted more, needed more. She felt as if she were poised on the edge of a precipice, one that burned. Flames were licking up and through her body, sensitising her to every touch of Lucien’s hands, to every sweep of his tongue across the swollen hardness of her nipples, as he divided his attentions between the two, first licking, then suckling. Each lick and suck seemed to increase the volcanic pleasure rising between her thighs.