When she realized what she was doing, she tried to jump back, but his arms had already closed around her waist and held her still. “Don’t go,” he said, looking down at her, his voice husky.
“I’m sorry,” she said and tried to drop her hands, but his own skimmed up her back and he shook his head. “I’m not,” he said a moment before his mouth touched hers. Tentatively at first, as if he was testing to see if she would stop him. But when she simply stood there, waiting for more, her head turned up to his as if ready for the next step, he was more than willing to go there. His mouth covered hers more firmly this time, nibbling at her lips, moving across hers, his hands molding her body against his, pulling her tighter. And when she responded, kissing him back while her hands slid up his chest, he became more aggressive.
His fingers slid through her hair, pulling her head back and giving him greater access. As his mouth moved over hers, Darcy thrilled to the taste, the feel of him against her. He was so large and her fingers ran across his muscled chest, exploring and feeling, testing the surface just as he was doing to her mouth, his tongue invading, making her moan in reaction and need.
As his hand slid inside her wet shirt, his fingers unerringly found her breast, pushing away the bra and discovering the fullness, the shape and absorbing her gasp of surprise in his mouth. He was surprised as well, amazed at how perfectly she fit in his hand, how soft and wonderful she felt and when his thumb rubbed against her nipple, he had to hold her against him as her knees gave up.
Darcy didn’t want the feelings to stop but she couldn’t control the shivering his hands were causing. And when he laid her down in the sand, she curled up against him, wanting to feel all of him. Her knee bent and she thrilled when his hips pressed against hers, finding just the right spot to press, making her wiggle underneath his large body.
“Sergei!” she gasped when his warm mouth closed over her cold nipple through the shirt, her hand clenching at his hair in desperation. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, arching into his mouth and loving the way he felt.
“I don’t intend to,” he growled and pulled her shirt up, then yanking the cup of her bra down so he could see as well as taste. “You’re beautiful,” he said as his hot gaze looked down at her breast uncovered now and Darcy smiled, closing her eyes and feeling soft and feminine, incredibly sexy.
Her hands were in his hair, traveling down his shoulders then running back up against his stomach muscles. She loved the way he looked as well but she couldn’t get the words past her lips. The issue was a combination of the new feelings and a painful shyness that overcame her at that moment.
Sergei didn’t know what was going through her mind, all he knew was that this woman excited him beyond words. Beyond anything he’d ever experienced with another woman. And he’d have her, he thought with determination.
“We can’t do this here,” he said and stood up, taking her with him, his arms cradling her as he walked up the beach.
“Do what?” she asked, confused and not liking the way he’d stopped kissing and touching her.
Sergei shook his head, “Whatever you want to call this, we’re not doing it here on the beach. Sand isn’t romantic no matter what those trashy novels say and I prefer my privacy when having sex so I don’t particularly want the servants either accidentally or on purpose catching a glimpse of our activities.”
Darcy shook her head at his words and the shivering that had previously been from his touch was now a shaking to her core because of his words. “Is that what this is? We’re having sex?”
Sergei looked down at the woman in his arms and knew instantly that he’d said the wrong thing. He couldn’t help it though. Wrapping up a physical activity in pretty words of love just wasn’t his style, no matter how turned on he was. “Yes. We’re going to have sex, Darcy. You and me and there’s nothing wrong with it. You can call it ‘making love’ or some other euphemism for mutual enjoyment of our bodies, but it all comes down to the same thing. Sex in its most basic and fulfilling form.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment, her hands wrapped around the muscles of his upper arms as she considered his statement. She understood that he wasn’t emotionally involved but she realized that she was. For some bizarre, stupid and ironically hilarious reason, she actually cared for this man, cared about what he thought of her.
“Would you put me down,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances.
He obliged, but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to argue with her but was being too gentlemanly to do so.
“Thank you,” she said as she straightened her clothes, unable to look at him as she pulled her wet shirt back on. “I apologize for leading you on. That was very…” she couldn’t think of a correct, polite phrase for what she’d just put him through but settled on, “inconsiderate of me. Please accept my apologies and I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible.” With her shoulders straight but her head bowed in shame, she walked into the house, then raced down the hallway to her bedroom, almost tripping on the puppies who thought she was ready to play. She waited all of five seconds for the momma dog and the puppies to follow her into her room, then slammed the door, sliding down to the floor and burying her face into the momma dog’s soft fur, grateful when all the puppies wiggled around her, licking at her face in their sweet, innocent effort to console her.
Chapter 9
“Call!” Manuel demanded, his eyes stern as he looked across the table. “Two pair, kings high! Beat that, little lady!”
Darcy chewed on the end of her straw, looking back at Manuel with a satisfied grin. “Is that all you got?” she quipped. Laying down her cards, she fanned out her three of a kind, all eights and chuckled as Adele tossed her cards onto the table with a disgusted sigh while Tim guffawed, already having folded his hand several minutes earlier as the stakes increased beyond his comfort zone.
“Come to momma,” she laughed as she pulled the thirty five cents into her growing pile of pennies, already worth more than fifty cents she calculated.
“We should never have let her into the game,” Manuel laughed to Adele and Tim. “She knew nothing two hours ago and now she’s smacking us down.”
Adele laughed as well. “She seems to have a knack for it. Who would have known?”