2006 by The Cinderella Project

Author:The Cinderella Project [Project, The Cinderella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-11-03T06:47:47+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CYN was hallucinating. Definitely. In real life, she was stuck in the middle of the party, talking to the client, pretending to smile and have a fabulous time when inwardly she was desperate to get a taxi, go home and fall into bed. No way was she standing under a lamp on the bank of the Thames on an overcast evening in early March, with Max’s arms round her. No way was his hand inside her wrap and sliding down her spine, pressing her tightly against his body. No way were his lips brushing lightly against hers, tiny butterfly kisses that aroused her so much she was completely unable to keep a cool head. She wasn’t really here, tipping her head back and offering him her mouth…was she?

She opened her eyes. Max’s eyes were only centimetres from her own. So close that she could see his unfairly long black lashes and the dark navy rim around his slate-blue irises. His pupils were huge with desire, and he had that intense look on his face that she remembered from earlier tonight and the previous weekend. The same look that he’d given her just before he’d kissed his way down her body and sent her spiralling over the edge.

‘“If ever any beauty I did see,”’ Max whispered, ‘“Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.”’

His voice was low, husky with longing. But she didn’t quite understand. Was he saying he thought she was beautiful? She must be hearing things. Cyn knew she was nothing out of the ordinary. She was a little under average height, and if she was honest with herself she could do with toning up and losing about twenty pounds…

And then she forgot to think when Max kissed her again. All she could do was slide her hands into his silky dark hair and kiss him back. The rest of the world didn’t exist any more. Just Max, the warmth of his mouth against hers and the hardness of his body crushed against her. Just Max, and his hand sliding up over her belly to cup one breast.

She forgot where they were. All she wanted was for him to rip down the last barriers between them: the lace of her bra and the silky-soft material of her dress were way too much. She needed to feel his hands against her skin.

Properly. Feel his thumb rubbing against her nipple.

And she hardly dared think about what she wanted his mouth to do to her.

As if he could read her mind, he eased his hand under the neckline of her dress. The tips of his fingers reached the edge of her bra, and Cyn began to quiver. He was still kissing her, his mouth demanding more and more, and then, at last, his hand cupped her breast properly. Skin to skin.

She shuddered as his thumb rubbed against her nipple. The friction was good, but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Needed more. She rocked her hips against him; he broke the kiss and took a sharp intake of breath.

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