Charade Read online

  Mark kissed his way up her chest to her mouth and then they were kissing wildly, trying to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. He was holding her tightly, almost hurting her but not quite, and she scrambled to press herself against him, against that long, strong, hot body.

  She had contact, but somehow it wasn’t enough. She moved in his arms, rubbing against him like a cat. She felt like a cat. If she could, she’d purr and she definitely wanted to lick him, just lap him up. Everything felt so damned good. Every part of her, from her hair to her toes.

  Mark lifted his mouth just a fraction of an inch from hers, as if too much distance would be unbearable. She knew exactly how he felt.

  “Bed?” he gasped.

  “God, yes,” she answered. An image, a heart-stopping image, filled her head. She was spread-eagled on a bed and Mark was on top of her, slowly moving in and out of her. She saw it as if she were looking down from the ceiling, watching his buttocks move as he made love to her. Their hands were intertwined and his strong thighs held hers apart.

  She shivered and her vagina clenched again. He wasn’t in her, not yet, but she could feel his hard, hot penis against her belly and it didn’t take much to imagine them already having sex.

  Mark tilted slightly, then the world tilted and she realized he was carrying her toward the bedroom. It was amazing. He showed no stress, not even his breathing changed. They were still kissing, her arms tight around his strong neck. Incredibly, he didn’t seem to have to look at where they were going, even though the living room area was full of furniture. He didn’t trip and fall as she surely would have.

  It was like a scene in a movie—a sexy movie. Both of them naked, kissing, and she was being carried to bed. They’d have to pixelate his erect penis, though.

  They were in his bedroom. He hadn’t turned on the lights, there was just faint light from the living room spilling into the bedroom. It didn’t reach the bed, which was mysterious and shadowy.

  What kind of lover was Mark going to be? Slow and languid, enthusiastic and rough? She didn’t like rough sex but something told her she might like Mark’s rough sex.

  He set her beside the bed for a moment and held her by the waist as he pulled down the flowered duvet. He was a broad shadow in the darkness of the big room, discernable more by the heat he was giving off than by sight.

  Throwing back the duvet gave off a cloud of lavender scent, offset by his smell, pleasingly male. She’d barely had time to breathe in the smells when he picked her up again, effortlessly, and placed her in the center of the bed. A moment later, his heavy weight settled on her.

  His hands cupped her head and his hard thighs opened hers. She was completely at his mercy but she didn’t feel constrained in any way. Though he surrounded her, was weighing her down, was holding her legs open with his, she knew he wasn’t overpowering her.

  Mark dropped his head until his forehead touched hers. “Are you okay?” he asked. It was dark but she could see a furrow between his black eyebrows.

  Was she okay?

  “Any better and I’d be dead,” she gasped. He barked out a laugh, as if against his will, and she was charmed by the sound.

  He kissed her, lifted his head. “You’re so perfect,” he said, completely seriously.

  Whoa. Not all of her lovers thought so. As a matter of fact, a lot of her lovers had been disappointed. Too cold, they said. Too unresponsive. She didn’t feel cold and unresponsive now, though.

  “Wait until we’re finished and then we’ll see.” Something in her voice, an unintended bitterness, made him widen his eyes in surprise.

  “Some guy thought you weren’t perfect?” Mark’s voice held astonishment, as if the thought were completely alien to him.

  Now was not the time to have the ghosts of other men in the bed with them. Not when she had questions of her own. Harper made a noncommittal sound as she ran her hands over his broad, strong back. His broad, strong, scarred back. She could feel small scars, big scars with keloid scar tissue and, on his upper back, a round, puckered scar that was echoed on his chest.

  “What are these?” she asked.

  “You mean you don’t think I’m perfect?”

  She gave a half-hearted slap to his shoulder. “You know what I mean. What are all these scars? Have you been to war?”

  “Not to war,” he said. “To dojos.”

  “Dojos?”

  Mark nodded. “A dojo is a martial arts gym that—”

  “I know what a dojo is. A friend of mine goes to a dojo for tai chi but she isn’t covered in scars.”

  Mark kissed her neck, exactly that point that made her mindless. She tipped her head to give him better access and closed her eyes. Mark stretched out even more on top of her, so that every inch of her front met every inch of his front, his huge, erect penis like a hot steel tube along her belly.

  He bit her, very lightly, right…there, and she jolted with pleasure, breaking out in goose bumps.

  “You like that,” he murmured. His deep voice held pleasure not smugness. He enjoyed pleasuring her.

  “Mmmm.” He bit her very lightly again then licked the spot. Her hips rose, rubbing against his, his penis so incredibly hot. An involuntary groan of pleasure escaped him.

  “I think I seem to remember you like this, too.” And he licked her nipple.

  Harper gave a huge, whole-body shudder.

  But they’d been talking about something…

  “What are those scars about?” she gasped, just before he suckled her breast. Like a child would, only this wasn’t a child. She looked down at that dark head, strong hand tenderly cupping her breast, his shoulders so broad they overwhelmed her, cutting off her view of everything but him.

  “Mark?”

  “Yeah?” He lifted his head and looked at her breast, the nipple deep pink and wet. He blew on the nipple and she shook.

  They were minutes away from full-blown sex but before he entered her body, she wanted answers.

  “Scars,” she gasped.

  He answered her without lifting his gaze from her breasts. “I’ve been going to dojos since I was a boy. They weren’t fun places serving expensive water with lemon slices where you went to keep fit. They were dojos where you trained seriously in martial arts and where people got hurt. For example, that round scar you felt?”

  He lifted his head and pinned her with his dark gaze. She nodded.

  “That was a bo staff — a training stick. Went right through me. The scars just show that I took my martial arts seriously.”

  Did he ever. The scars, those muscles—the man was seriously strong and built. But he didn’t look like a gym rat; he looked like a man who used his body well.

  He smiled down at her, looking dangerously hot. Heavy-lidded dark eyes, skin tight, mouth slightly swollen. Insanely attractive, not a bland businessman at all. “We done talking?” he asked, and she nodded.

  Yeah. She was done talking. Her body was on fire for him and she needed him inside her. Right. Now.

  Harper arched against him, rubbing against his belly, the tip of his penis slightly wet, nature’s way of easing men inside women.

  He didn’t need it, though. She could feel herself, soft and wet, very ready for him.

  “Now, Mark,” she whispered.

  “God, yeah.”

  Mark reached out a long arm to the gray travel kit on the bedside console and took out a foil package. In a moment, he was ready, shifting himself so that they were nose to nose, his hips directly above hers, ready to enter her.

  She could feel him, hot and stiff, at her entrance. He placed both hands on the bed on either side of her head and lifted himself, big biceps flexing. He was poised; hard, muscled torso hovering above her. He glanced down their bodies and she followed his gaze.

  It was the most erotic sight she’d ever seen. She was fully open to him, legs spread, his penis just at her entrance. She was much paler than him, their two skin tones making such a sexy contrast. She looked almost vulnerable ag
ainst the hard planes of his heavily-muscled body but she didn’t feel vulnerable. He could crush her in a second. She was beneath him, open to him but not vulnerable to him. There was a strong current of energy between them, almost visible shifts of power and a lot of the power was hers.

  She felt strong and vital and about ready to die if he didn’t move.

  Harper clasped his buttocks and pressed down and he entered her. Slowly. It cost him a great deal to move so slowly. His jaws were clenched, eyes narrowed, biceps bulging. A bead of sweat ran down his face, off his chin, onto her breast.

  Harper caught it with a finger, putting the finger in her mouth. His sweat tasted salty, sexy.

  Mark gave out a huff of breath, as if he were lifting weights, but he didn’t slam into her. He entered by slow degrees and she was glad he did. He was huge. Moving so slowly, there wasn’t any pain but at times a little discomfort. She opened her legs more as he slowly entered her.

  “God!” Another drop of sweat fell on her. “You’re so tight.”

  Harper shrugged, curling her fingers around his steely shoulders. “It’s been a while.”

  Mark closed his eyes as if in pain and lowered himself slowly until his entire weight was on her. It felt good, like he was making love to her whole body. He cupped her head in his big hands and entered her, moving faster now. It should have hurt but it didn’t because she was so ready for him. She was entirely open to him. Sex, arms, legs, mouth, heart…

  Then Mark was inside her, completely in. He lifted his head, taking her lower lip in his mouth, biting it lightly. “Have to move now,” he said, deep voice low and hoarse.

  As an answer. Harper opened even further to him, lifting her hips until he was embedded in her to the root. She felt entirely taken by him, her body completely his.

  Mark moved his hands down to clasp her hips and started moving, gently at first, then harder. The beautiful inlaid headboard began beating a tattoo against the wall as he rocked harder and harder inside her. The friction was incredible, she was burning up, an enormous ball of heat building inside her until, with a cry she fell into the abyss, heart pounding, legs and arms holding him as if she would never let go.

  He followed immediately with a shout, swelling inside her, shaking then exploding.

  They clutched each other tightly and then, with a huge sigh, Mark relaxed, placing his head on the pillow next to hers. She turned her head and their noses touched. She smiled at him and he smiled back, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

  “Wow,” he said. “Just…wow.”

  Hours later, she fell asleep like a rock. Well, he used her hard toward the end. That first time had been merely a taste, the result of being in a state of semi-arousal since the day before, when he’d seen her for the first time. So the first time had been fast, getting something out of his system. Then he’d gotten down to business, making love to her so intensely at times he thought he’d pass out.

  He was curled around her, like two spoons, her head pillowed on his arm. Mark tightened his arms slightly, delighted with the feel of her. The long, slim limbs, that amazingly kissable neck, the two perfect dimples on the top of her ass. God, such soft skin. He wanted to touch her all over, as he’d done during the night, but he knew he shouldn’t. Shit. She was sleeping, probably jet-lagged.

  He was jet-lagged, too, but he couldn’t sleep. God, no. Way too revved. Maybe part of it was that he hadn’t had sex in…what? Who knew? A long time, anyway. He actually couldn’t remember the name of the last woman he’d had sex with. Her face was a little fuzzy, too.

  Well, he’d had back-to-back missions for well over a year now, not to mention being owner of a company that was growing insanely fast.

  Rule number one on a mission was focus. Rule number two—no sex. To be truthful, he hadn’t missed it, hadn’t noticed its absence, busy building his company into one of the finest security companies in the world.

  But that no-sex rule had changed overnight. The night with Harper had been overwhelming, like feasting on wonderful food after a year of fasting. But the thing was, it was more Harper herself than the sex.

  She was beautiful and mysterious and as self-contained as a cat. Yet in bed she was pure flame.

  He’d grown fully erect against her bottom, starting to pull away from her. No use being a hound dog. To his surprise, she wiggled that delectable bottom against his hard-on and he abandoned his not-being-a-hound-dog-and-let-Harper-sleep policy immediately.

  He was a hound dog where she was concerned. And if she was rubbing against him, she was up for more.

  Yeah. Good. So was he.

  He put his face against her neck, sniffing like a dog. She smelled so damned good. “Good morning,” he whispered directly into her ear.

  “Morning.” Her voice had a little early morning hoarseness to it. Throaty, sexy.

  He kissed her neck, licked behind her ear. She shivered a little. “How are we feeling this morning, hmm?”

  Harper gave a breathy laugh. “I don’t know how we’re feeling, but I’m feeling pretty good.”

  “Me, too.” He was feeling more than pretty good. His erection was so hard it was as if he hadn’t had sex for years, instead of spending half the night inside her.

  He had some control, but not much. He could do a little foreplay if he had to. Foreplay with Harper was really exciting. But being inside her was even better and he wanted to be inside her now.

  Mark lifted up on one elbow so he could look over her shoulder and see her fully. She was just so amazingly beautiful all over. Perfect ivory skin, tiny waist, round hips, long sleek legs…mmm. And those breasts, like vanilla ice cream cones with little cherries on top. Cherries that became deep pink when she was aroused. Right now, her nipples were turning rosy again.

  He’d never forget the sight of her coming, belly muscles pulling with each contraction, nipples red and hard, mouth wet and open to pull in air.

  Mark had always closed his eyes when coming. He hadn’t even realized it until he had sex with Harper and he couldn’t close his eyes, not for a second, because he didn’t want to miss even a moment of her pleasure.

  Her pleasure was amazing.

  He buried his face in her neck because he’d figured out that her neck was a real turn-on for her. Lots of places were her turn-ons, but the neck was special. He licked her and scraped his teeth along the tendon and felt her shudder in his arms. Felt her breath speeding up.

  Was it having other effects, too?

  His hand slid from her throat, over her breasts, over that flat belly, down to her mound. She lifted her leg to give him access and he slid a finger inside and—yes!

  Soft and wet. Ready.

  God.

  He whispered in her ear, “Harper.” He could feel her shudder.

  “Yes,” she whispered back.

  Yes, an answer to her name, or yes, they could have sex right now?

  His body decided for him. He reached for a condom—their fourth—and smoothed it on, fitting his hips to her backside.

  He opened her up with his fingers and slid inside. She was still tight but a night of sex made his entry easier.

  Just the thought of it—that Harper’s sex was being shaped by his penis—made him swell inside her.

  “Wow. I felt that.” Harper gave a half laugh. “That must have been one sexy thought.”

  He was deep inside her now, held tightly. “You have no idea.” He started moving slowly, gripping her hips.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “Tell me.”

  Mark shook his head, moving inside her more quickly.

  “Tell me now.” And she gave him a sultry smile over her shoulder, completely irresistible. He’d have to be made of stone to resist, and he wasn’t made of stone.

  “All right,” he panted, moving fast. “I was thinking that you’re a little less tight.” He moved faster, harder. “I was thinking my cock is shaping you, so that at some point, you’ll be made just for me, exactly right for me.”


  Her eyes widened and he felt her explosion, from the inside out. Her sex gripped him hard, clenching and unclenching, her breath leaving her in one long cry. He stayed with her, moving in time with the convulsions until finally he, too, went up in flames, holding her tightly.

  He never wanted to let her go. They were a little sticky with sweat and very sticky in the groin area.

  They both fell back asleep, Mark waking up when Harper left the bed. There was an early morning glow around the heavy curtains. Checking his watch he saw that it was seven thirty.

  Harper disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, he heard the shower come on. Most women lingered in showers—and the Ritz’s shower was amazing. Huge marble cubicle, showerheads everywhere, one of which was lavender-scented. He expected her to take her time, but in a few moments, he heard the shower turn off. She didn’t linger over drying, either.

  This wasn’t good.

  His whole plan for the day included the two of them lingering over pleasurable things every second they could. A businesslike shower didn’t bode well.

  Sure enough, she came out wrapped in a huge soft towel and headed straight for her clothes.

  She didn’t look him in the eye, intent on getting dressed as quickly as possible.

  Was she going to do a bunk on him? Just disappear? Well, that wasn’t going to happen.

  She was definitely going to try that I’m-too-busy-to-make-plans-with-you thing. He recognized it because he’d pulled that one himself, often.

  He sat quietly, watching her not looking at him. In only a few minutes, she was dressed, combed, made up, looking exactly as she had last night. Beautifully groomed and put together, which was no mean feat, considering how they’d spent the night. You couldn’t tell she’d spent the night fucking, except for the faint hickey right where her neck met her shoulder. Mark usually paid attention and didn’t leave marks on women, but he’d been coming at the time and his control had been shot.

  “Well,” she began.

  “My driver is downstairs,” Mark said. “Waiting for you.”

  She blinked. “I’m going to have to go back to my hotel to change.” She looked down at herself, at the elegant evening outfit. Pale blue and slinky. “I have some research to do and I need more casual wear.”