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The Boss's Proposal(64)

By´╝ÜCathy Williams



He leaned forward, curled his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her to him, then he proceeded to kiss her thoroughly, only stopping to say into her hungry mouth, ‘The marrying kind of price…’ His tongue dipped back into her mouth and she laughingly struggled her way out of the heady embrace.

‘There’s no need,’ she said, pink-faced but serious. Her hands pressed against his chest and she could feel the movement of his heart beating against his ribs. He reached to clasp both hands in her hair, on either side of her face, while the soft pads of his thumbs stroked her temples, her eyes, her cheekbones. Her small breasts ached for the same soft, seductive caress. ‘I know that your sense of duty and responsibility prompted you to propose originally, but…’

‘If only you knew,’ he murmured, now stroking the slender column of her neck, then travelling inexorably downwards to cup her jutting breasts.

‘If only I knew…what?’ Her words ended on a gasp as he unbuttoned her and scooped her breasts out of their lacy bondage, rubbing his thumbs erotically over the raised tips.

‘When I proposed to you,’ he said, stilling his fingers so that he could capture every ounce of her attention, ‘I meant it. I wanted to marry you. I was determined to claw my way to your love if I had to die in the process. And now, my darling…’ His fingers resumed their expert manipulation of her breasts, sending a convulsive shudder through her body. ‘I don’t intend to let you go. Ever.’ He dipped his head to trail the tip of his tongue delicately around her nipple, circling, touching, flicking, until her unsteady breathing became small moans of pleasure. ‘I want to marry you, just like I want Chloe to be a daughter to me, like she’s a daughter to you…’ He suckled on her breast, just long enough to make her slide a few centimetres down the sofa, long enough for his hand to gently curve around her thigh, massaging the willing flesh and edging upwards.

‘And then, who knows?’ He looked up at her and his grey eyes were dark with passion and tenderness. ‘More babies?’ He nuzzled her and she could feel him smiling into her breasts. ‘If you thought you’d found the archetypal tycoon, then, my darling, you were wrong, because the prospect of domesticity has never seemed so good…’

‘Are you telling me that I’ve tamed a tiger?’ She watched his dark head against her body and was thrillingly, sinfully happy.

‘Not,’ he said, shifting his body so that he could unzip his trousers, ‘completely. In one very important aspect, my love, you’ll never be able to tame me…’




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