Eric Carlisle, Sex God (Paranormal Billionaire Erotic Romance) (Sex Gods Book 1) by L.E. Joyce

Author:L.E. Joyce [Joyce, L.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781310084270
Publisher: Midnight Heat Books
Published: 2014-09-07T22:00:00+00:00

Six

“Now, Ms. Jones,” Eric said. “Take off your clothes.”

Emma smiled, and to his complete chagrin, she chuckled. “Is that how you normally do it? Order women around?”

For a lost moment, he forgot that his lust-desire had no effect on her. To recoup, he smiled and shrugged it off. “Well, I am the Marquess of Carlisle. Women like it when I exert my authority over my underlings.”

She tousled his hair. “I’m an American. I am not your underling. There was a war long ago,” she said. “You might have heard of it.”

Eric watched as her hand slid between her breasts and disappeared behind the white silky fabric of her blouse. She caressed herself as she sauntered towards him. “And we won,” she said with her mouth inches from his, her hot breath steaming over his lips.

A slow smile shaped her gorgeous mouth. He searched her face with wonderment. This girl. This woman. Without tricks, without Gods’ magic, how did she hold his attention? The son of Eros, God of Sex, the Marquess of Carlisle, whose station in the family business was to provide pleasure to the masses, was incredibly turned on. His cock twitched in his pants as she looked up at him with hungry eyes.

“What am I to do with you, Ms. Jones?” he asked.

Emma backed up until her calves hit the end of the four-post bed. She began unbuttoning her blouse. “Anything you want,” she said.

“I hope you mean that.”

With his desire crushing his patience, Eric was upon her; grabbing her top and ripping it open with one fluid motion. She gasped at his sudden and feral move as her pearl buttons bounced to the floor. With the palm of his hand, he tilted her head so that her breasts rose with the arch of her back. He slid his hands over her milky skin and squeezed her supple breasts, first one and then the other. His mouth found purchase and kissed a trail down her torso as she sighed and squirmed with anticipation.

“Yes,” Eric murmured. “What am I to do with you indeed?”

He eased her to the bed and worked the buckle of her pants suit. With a gentle pull, they slid down her legs and exposed bright pink boy shorts underneath. Eric eyed them quizzically.

“Very interesting,” he teased, snapping the band with his finger.

Emma laughed. “Unlike you, Lord Carlisle, I don’t have servants to do my laundry.”

He let his hands explore her body; down her flat stomach, tight buttocks, and toned thighs. “Neither do I, Ms. Jones.”

“Oh please. Are you telling me that Castle Carlisle doesn’t have servants to do the laundry?”

“That’s correct, Ms. Jones,” he said delivering soft kisses to her smooth skin. “We just have Mrs. Murphy.”

Caught in his ruse, Emma grabbed a throw pillow from behind her head, and pummeled him across the face with it.

“Oh, you naughty girl,” he said. “You are going to pay for that.”

Emma laughed and then fixed her gaze on him most intently. “Promise?” she whispered.

At that moment, he thought of introducing Emma to his dungeon, but something stopped him.

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