Part Two of SEASON OF DESIRE, a fiercely passionate five-part serial novel by Sadie Matthews which will excite all fans of FIRE AFTER DARK, BECAUSE YOU ARE MINE and FIFTY SHADES OF GREY. Freya Hammond is used to people fulfilling her every whim. Wealthy and spoiled, she lives a butterfly existence of fashion and parties and is accustomed to getting her own way. Which is why the new bodyguard is riling her. Miles Murray is ex-SAS and obeys her instructions with barely repressed scorn. She can sense that he doesn't think much of her. The Hammonds have been staying at their luxurious retreat high in the Alps. Now Miles is driving Freya to the airport but the rapidly worsening weather and a near-miss with a dangerously driven jeep causes him to lose control, and sends the car plummeting off the side of the mountain. When Freya comes to, she is lying on the freezing ground, Miles beside her. The car is a mangled mess far below them. Now Freya needs Miles to save her life. Using all his survival skills, Miles manages to locate an old shepherd's hut and get them both there despite Freya's twisted ankle. Rescue will surely come before too long... but until then Freya is no longer in control. The tension between them is soon at fever pitch as she tries to dominate a man who no longer obeys her orders. And when rescue does come, how will they return to their old life of mistress and bodyguard after what has happened between them?
Release date:
October 17, 2013
Publisher:
Hodder & Stoughton
Print pages:
70
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I sigh with that languorous post-orgasmic satisfaction and nestle into his chest.
Gazing up at him, I say, ‘That was incredible.’
‘Just a beginner’s guide to the mouth. There’s much more to learn, believe me.’ He smiles down at me.
‘I can’t wait for you to teach me everything you know. But…’ I brush my hand over the fine wool of his jumper. ‘What about you? Don’t you have needs you want fulfilled? I feel that I’m the one getting all the attention.’
He strokes a finger over my cheek. ‘You’re very generous but at the moment, I’m the tutor, remember? I can hold back my own needs in favour of your education.’
‘But still…’ I want to reach out to that hardness at his groin. I want to caress and kiss him, give him back a little of the pleasure he’s given me. But I daren’t do it without permission. ‘Tutor,’ I venture shyly, ‘I don’t know what you have in mind for the next lesson…’
‘Eager to begin again already? I salute your desire for knowledge,’ he murmurs.
‘I am,’ I reply quickly. ‘I want to carry on learning as soon as I can.’
‘Very admirable,’ he says, and kisses my lips softly. ‘Perhaps you’re right – there’s a way to continue your education and allow some natural relief on my part. Giving you so much enjoyment has caused some tension. The delightful orgasm you just enjoyed was very stimulating for me. Very stimulating indeed…’ He kisses me harder and as his tongue probes my mouth, I can taste a honeyed saltiness on his lips. My juices.
The orgasm has taken some of the fever out of my body but my desire is stirring again, this time without the unbearable drawn-out frenzy of our first encounter. Nevertheless I’m hungry to taste his body properly.
‘May I be allowed to touch you?’ I whisper. ‘You haven’t let me see your body yet.’
‘A good point.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘Perhaps it will be an important part of the syllabus to examine me. Yes, Winter, you’ve hit on an excellent idea. Our next lesson will be a simple biology one.’ He sits up and takes off his jumper, revealing his incredible body. I gasp to see it so close to me: his muscled strength is almost overwhelming. His shoulders are broad and powerful and the curves of his biceps are deceptively gentle but I know that they are iron-hard. His skin is smooth and tanned, sprinkled with dark hair that also curls alluringly in his armpits and is scattered over his well-defined pecs with their small, dark red nipples. His torso narrows into a rippling abdomen and that trail of hair around his belly button leads downwards as if promising a path to pleasure. He’s aware of me drinking in the sight of him. ‘The male body,’ he says with a smile.
‘I don’t think you’re exactly a typical example,’ I breathe, awed by the sight of his physical perfection.
‘I’ll do for study purposes. Note the differences between us, Winter, but also our similarities. The male nipple, for example, is also a pleasure spot like your own. The male scent is trapped in the hair that we allow to grow on our body – unless you’re the chest-waxing type, which I am not – and the female responds to it. It contributes to her own arousal, and the release of her own sexual aromas. Smell is very important…’ His voice is low, hypnotic. ‘Try it.’
I move my face towards his naked skin, and when I’m close to him, the heat radiating from him, I inhaled deeply. He’s right – his scent is dark, cedary, with a top note of sweetness. My nostrils flare slightly as I take in the aroma. Arousal is there, and tang of something bitter and yet alluring. I move my face across his chest, inhaling, taking in long breaths that are delicious and darkly exciting, ripe with musk and sharp with a tang of something else. I think of how much has happened – his efforts to save the car from crashing, my rescue from it before it plunged over the edge of the cliff, the walks through the storm where every step was a battle through the fierce wind. The story of everything that’s happened to us is in the smell of his body and it’s exhilarating. Usually I would be repelled by anything less than absolute freshness but circumstances have forced me to accept standards that in normal life would horrify me. The idea of a man who hadn’t just showered would usually be repugnant but there’s nothing offensive about Miles: everything about him is exciting and alluring.
‘You smell amazing,’ I murmur. He’s right, my body is responding to the effect of his scent. I can feel a buzz in my depths that replies to it as it enters my nostrils. I want to lick him and taste him, but I restrain myself. The lesson is not over yet.
‘Now, run your hands over me and feel the difference between us.’
At last, I can touch him. I’ve been dying for this. Having him so close and yet being forbidden to touch him has been torture. I reach out to his tanned skin. It’s smooth and warm and my fingertips tingle as I feel him beneath them. But where my flesh is soft and yielding, his is firm, the muscles that lie beneath worked into a state of iron hardness. He moves slightly and I feel the flexing strength in his chest and arms. I pull in a sharp breath – that movement sends a thrill of desire rushing through me. I move my hand over the undulations of his chest, circling each dark nipple and then running my fingertip down the narrow seam that runs down between his abs to the trail of dark hair. He’s watching me all the time, his eyes hooded slightly so I can’t see the effect I’m having on him, but even though he’s lying still and breathing in a controlled, measured way, I think that my touch is having the desired effect. I can see now that there is a fearsome bulge in the groin of his jeans, a sight that provokes a shiver of intoxicating anticipation.
‘May I kiss you, Tutor?’ I ask breathily. ‘I want to touch your skin.’
‘You may,’ he replies and I press my lips to his firm chest, then. . .
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