That thing that died inside her, whatever it was, turned to ash.
He was utterly ruthless.
She could do nothing but nod. She worked more hours than she was paid and hadn’t taken a day of holiday in a year. She also made her own hours and there was always something happening at the Community Centre.
She’d make it work.
From the look in his eyes, she’d have to make it work.
“Is that all?” she asked.
“Would you like more?” he returned.
She shook her head vehemently.
“Take off your underwear but leave the shoes.”
Dear goddess, she was going to melt in a puddle at the side of her bed. How she could be terrified, miserable and turned on all at the same time, she had no idea.
But she was.
And she did as she was told.
By the time she was finished he’d completed disrobing and stood in front of her in absolute brazen nakedness. His body was extraordinary, she’d never seen anything like it outside of a magazine. His muscles defined, the jutting bones of his h*ps and lower…
“Dear goddess,” she whispered.
She totally forgot her own nakedness at the sight of his.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered.
Then she remembered.
She turned, trying to hide her embarrassment with a fall of her hair. She sat down on the side of the bed but before she could push herself to the middle, he was there, his strong arms around her lifting her up and planting her back, deeper on the bed.
He pushed her to back and his body came down on hers.
Strangely, Sibyl thought, when his weight hit her, he felt heavy and warm and unbelievably but indescribably right.
She trembled with fear and desire and she hated herself all the more because only very bad girls enjoyed this type of thing.
What kind of woman was she?
She started, “Colin, I’ve –”
But she didn’t finish, his head came down, his mouth claimed hers, his tongue sweeping inside – Colin Morgan kissed her, her entire body quivered and it started.
* * * * *
Colin trailed the tips of his fingers down Sibyl’s spine, all the way to the very shapely curve of her generously rounded bottom.
He felt her tremble under his fingers.
She’d been worth every penny of those fifty thousand pounds. Even if he didn’t have her again, he wouldn’t regret the money. Hell, he would have paid it just to witness her standing before him in nothing but that black underwear, as ludicrous as that notion was.
However, it was true. She was just that exquisite.
She was lying on her belly, her face turned away from him, locks of her leonine hair falling on her back, her shoulders and tumbled all over her pillows.