A Taste of Heaven (Billionaires' Secrets Book 3) (13 page)

“I’ll be good.” She blinked innocently.

“If you’re not, then do I have the right to take appropriate corrective measures?”

She peered at him, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Of course.”

“Excellent. I can see we understand each other.” He walked to the table where the champagne sat cooling in a silver ice bucket. He poured a single flute.

He walked back to the bed, carrying it between his thumb and forefinger. “Since we’re avoiding touch, we’ll explore the other senses. First, taste.”

He held out the glass. “I want you to take a sip.” She reached for it. “Don’t swallow any of it. Just take the champagne into your mouth and enjoy the taste of it. Then, you’ll pass it to me.”

“Without touching?” She looked doubtful.

“Not even a tiny brush of skin.”

Wary blue eyes on him, she rose onto her knees and took the glass—avoiding his fingers with care—and took a sip. He watched her face as the bubbles tickled over her tongue.

Louis climbed on the bed, careful to keep a few inches between them, which was a challenge given the movement of the mattress.

He lay on his back and maneuvered his head between her parted legs. The scent of her silky skin wrapped around him.

Just who was he trying to torment, here?

Sam leaned forward, a cautious smile on her face, her cheeks slightly swollen with champagne. She poised her mouth about an inch over his—which nearly killed him—and he opened his mouth so that she could drip the champagne into it.

Warm and sweet from her mouth, the sparkling liquid felt like a taste of heaven on Louis’s parched tongue. Only one drop spilled and rolled over his chin.

He swallowed and licked his lips. “Thanks.”

Sam grinned. He saw her glance down at his shorts, where his intense arousal must be very evident.

“Name another sense.”

“Um,” she bit her luscious pink lip. “How about hearing?” She narrowed her eyes, apparently doubtful that he could manage it.

“Excellent choice. You’re going to listen to my heart rate while I tell you some of the things I could be doing to you right now.”

Her eyes widened.

“Lie on your side.” He waited for her to shift to one side of the bed, then he positioned himself alongside her, so his chest was level with her head. “Come close,” he whispered. “But remember, touching has its consequences, so be careful.”

She edged toward him, bracing herself on the soft mattress with manicured fingertips, wary as a hunter. She paused an inch or two from his chest, tucking her silky hair behind her ear. A diamond glittered in her soft, pink lobe and he fought a sudden urge to forget this stupid game and just kiss her.

“Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed. “I can hear your heartbeat and it just sped up!”

Louis grunted. This whole stunt might reveal too much about him to a woman who obviously had way too much power over him. He was pretty on edge after all the emotion of the day and the excitement of meeting his new siblings.

“Go on, do tell. I want to know what revs your engine.” Sam grinned, clearly relishing his disadvantage.

“You do,” he growled.

“So I see. And I want to hear exactly what you’d like to do to me.” Her blue gaze challenged him to lie to her.

Louis stretched a little, causing her to pull back a bit or risk touching him with her cheek. “First, I’d like to trace my tongue all the way from your glittering earlobe, down your sensitive neck, to your nipples.”

“Sounds promising.”

Her grin irked him. “I’d like to undo your bra with my teeth.”

She raised a brow. “This one has a tricky hook.”

“I have talented teeth.”

“Ooh.” Her dimple grew deeper. ‘Then what?”

“I’d like to lick your nipples until they grow hard.”

“Won’t take long.”

“Then trail my tongue over your belly and down past your waist, until I reach the top of your thighs...”

“Your pulse is thumping.”

“I’ll bet.” Louis could barely think. His blood had departed his brain for lower regions, which throbbed painfully. “And then...all right, enough of this nonsense.” He rolled off the bed, away from her.

Whose dumb idea was this?

Chapter Sixteen

S
am’s eyes shone. “Which sense is next?”

She was enjoying this far too much. She was supposed to be the one suffering.

“How about smell?” she continued. She’d flipped onto her back and lay supine, arms behind her head, giving him a dangerously enticing view of her gorgeous body. “I’d like to smell you. All over.”

Louis gave her a funny look. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It’s been a long day.”

“All the better. Come on. It’s not fair for you to have all the fun.”

“All right, knock yourself out.” Louis eased himself back onto the soft covers. At the very least, this should diminish his agonizing arousal.

At least that’s what he thought until Sam climbed over him.

“Hey, wait, your hair’s touching me.” The fine strands brushed his chest like butterfly wings, making his skin twitch.

“Doesn’t count.” Sam leaned closer. Her hair brushed higher as her nose sought out his neck, then his cheek.

Worse than the tickling on his chest was the fact that he could smell
her.
The familiar French scent blended exquisitely with her own delicately erotic, feminine fragrance. The result was magic, like a thousand-dollar bottle of wine, the perfect freshly dug truffle or the finest handmade Swiss chocolate.

Did her husband choose that scent for her?

His
father?

His muscles knotted and he jerked up. Their cheeks clashed and his chest collided with hers.

“What?” She sprang back.

“Enough,” he growled. “This is killing me.”

“It was your idea.”

“I’m an idiot.”

She shot him a sympathetic look, but excitement danced in her eyes. “But you still have to pay the consequences, so it’s only fair if you tell me what you were going to do to me if I touched you.”

Oh, yes. He’d been right about that wild streak. Desire flashed through him. He’d unleashed the real Sam, the energetic and creative person who’d kept quiet and played nice all those years.

She excited him more than any woman he’d ever met, and his desire for her stung his veins and drove him half mad.

To complicate matters, they were already “family”—in the most unconventional way—so there was no
disappea
ring
over the horizon when the party ended.

But he didn’t care. They were on this adventure together and he intended to strap in and enjoy the ride, wherever it took them.

Even if it meant letting her tie him up.

Sam laughed at the look on his face. Cocky and apprehensive. She wouldn’t have thought those two could go together. But she’d never met a man like Louis before.

“Go on, spill.” She leaned in, giving him a view of her cleavage that attracted his eyes like a hypnotist’s pendulum. “What should I do with you?”

She probably should be surprised by the flirty tone in her voice, or by the way she kept edging closer just to torment him, but for reasons she couldn’t explain she felt totally...
comfortable.

“Well.” He licked his lip, which caused a pleasurable throb between her legs. “I had intended to tie you—very gently—to the bedpost so I could have my wicked way with you.”

A rakish smile crossed his mouth.

“Ooh. Sounds like fun. I’m sorry I’ll miss out.” She pressed a finger thoughtfully to her lip. “Now, what shall I tie you with?”

“Your bra.” He seemed to be struggling to tug his eyes away from it. In fact, his obvious appreciation for her entire body was more arousing than she could have imagined.

Under his gaze she felt powerfully female and desirable, maybe for the first time in her whole life. “What was that you said about your talented teeth?”

He raised a dark brow. “Is this some kind of dare?” “Absolutely.” She thrust her breasts under his chin. His obvious pleasure in her action only encouraged her to wriggle a little under his gaze. “I’m waiting.”

“I don’t think I can do it without touching,” he rasped, eyes still riveted on her breasts.

“Touching is okay, just no hands.”

Her skin craved his touch with an intensity that made her body sparkle with anticipation.

Louis eyed the clasp in front of her bra like a jewel thief studying a challenging safe combination.

Sam managed not to squirm as his face lowered between her breasts and he closed his mouth over the clasp of her bra. His lips brushed her skin and sheer pleasure shivered through her. Her nipples hummed at his nearness, and in anticipation of being freed from their lacy cage.

In about three seconds, Louis had the clasp undone. He looked up, triumph gleaming in his eyes.

‘That’s some talent.” She slid the bra down her arms and dangled it from her fingertips. “Now come on over to the bedpost.”

Louis eased his muscled body across the bed, and she bound one hand to the polished mahogany by winding her bra around it a few times and fastening the clasp. He would have no problem wiggling free if he wasn’t man enough to stand up to his own challenge.

But she had a feeling Louis didn’t back down on a promise.

She began by layering floaty kisses over his stomach, then his thighs. Just as it looked as if his shorts might burst at the seams, she pulled them down and let him spring free.

Her own excitement made her giggle more than once. It was torture to be so close to making love with this man, yet to keep delaying it.

But it was so much fun.

Sam wasn’t sure she’d ever actually had
fun
in bed with a man before.

Tarrant hadn’t been able to...well, get it up, for want of a less blunt description.

And she hadn’t minded. Really, she hadn’t. Her first two marriages had left her with the impression that sex was a tiresome marital obligation in the same category as starching and
iro
nin
g
shirts, and it was a relief not to have to do either for Tarrant.

Last time with Louis had been intense and explosive, but too edged with her own desperation to be described as “fun.”

This was totally different.

Louis knew all about her. About her past relationships and the experiences that had made her who she was. There was nothing to hide from him. She could think about her former husbands right now, as she hovered over his dangerously aroused body, and not feel guilty or ashamed about anything. She didn’t have to fake innocence or experience she didn’t have in order to be “perfect.”

He’d invited her to be herself, and told her that was all he wanted.

Now here she was. All her usual doubts and fears and worries were still there, but they didn’t seem that big and important anymore.

Which made licking his skin and enjoying his warm, male scent all the more enjoyable.

“You know you’re killing me.” Louis’s pained expression was undermined by the glitter of pleasure in his eyes.

“I never knew I had such a taste for murder.” She looked up from kissing his belly. His arousal was so raw and visible, it made her heart jump in her chest.

He was this excited about being here with
her.

His strong, young, muscled body was having a pretty dramatic effect on her libido, too. She’d never seen a more beautiful physique.

Athletic, but not in the heavy, gym-pumped manner of a bodybuilder. More natural and sexy. His skin was smooth, which made it glow in the warm light from the bedside lamp.

As she tormented him with her lips and tongue, she enjoyed watching his muscles tense and tighten as he tried to keep control.

“Sam.” His guttural voice betrayed his urgency. His free hand fisted into the sheets and the bound one strained against her flimsy bra.

The bra snapped.

Louis flinched when the elastic smacked his wrist. He rubbed it, then looked up at her with a predatory grin.

Sam’s whole body convulsed in an involuntary shiver. The next thing she knew she was climbing over him, clawing at his skin and pressing herself against him.

Louis’s arms circled her waist and she let out a shuddering sigh as he gathered her into his hot and hungry embrace.

“You don’t know how much I’ve craved this,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he replied, breath warm on her ear. “I do.”

In less than a second he was inside her, filling her with all the desire and longing and hope she knew she’d created in him. It was blissful agony to finally give into the yearnings she’d tried so hard—and failed—to master.

They rolled on the sheets, switching roles, enjoying each other’s bodies with abandon. The pleasurable sensations grew so intense and overwhelming that Sam heard herself laugh out loud.

Louis’s obvious delight in her pleasure only heightened it. He kissed and caressed her, touched her with tenderness that made her heart flutter, then groped her in rough excitement that made her pulse throb faster and her breath come in unsteady gasps.

Her orgasm blew out of nowhere like a tornado on a clear day. It whirled her around—twisting and turning and picking up cows and houses and the roofs of strip malls—then flung her down on the rumpled sheets in a heap, unable to move or even speak, her limbs weighted with blissful relief.

She opened her eyes to see Louis next to her, chest heaving with exertion. His closed-eyed expression had a strange intensity to it, like someone deep in meditation.

“You okay?” she rasped.

“Very much so.” The smile appeared around the edges of his sensual mouth, then his eyes slit open, sparkling gold. “Aren’t you glad you finally got some sense and came to my bed?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m honestly not sure how I’ll feel in the morning, but right now I’m very glad to be here.”

He slid his palm over her belly and let it lie there, warm and reassuring. “Just take it one minute at a time.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll try.”

Louis nuzzled close, resting his nose and mouth in the crook of her neck, where they fit perfectly, his breath soft on her skin.