Carole Mortimer Romance Collection

His thumb moved lightly over the fabric of her dress, finding the nipple that pouted there, sensations warming the whole of her body as he began a rhythmic caress that made her ache with need.

And still his mouth possessed hers, his tongue telling her of his own need, the hardness of his thighs pressed against her, the muscles rippling across his back as her hands moved beneath his jacket to caress him through the silk of his shirt.

His mouth was against her neck now, kissing the pulsing column down to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat, his breath hot against her burning flesh. And still he continued to caress her breast. Silke arched against him, totally lost to all reason, all sense but Lyon’s touch and the feel of his hands against her body.

‘God, I want you!’ he suddenly groaned raggedly. ‘I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life before!’ He raised his head to look down at her with eyes dark with passion. ‘Silke...?’

She knew what he was asking—and he didn’t need to; her own need of him must be so obvious to him! But they were who they were, and—

‘No,’ he bit out firmly as he saw the hesitation in her eyes. ‘We knew this would happen from the moment we first met. We both knew it.’

Had she? She had been very aware of him then, but as a man filled with anger, not—

‘Silke...!’ he groaned again, his mouth nibbling at hers now, barely touching, asking, cajoling, tempting...!

She couldn’t think any more, didn’t want to, only wanted this man, and the pleasure his caresses and kisses promised, wanted that with a hunger she hadn’t known existed within her.

‘Yes, Lyon,’ she breathed against his mouth. ‘God, yes!’

He swung her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all—which to him she probably didn’t!—carrying her through the open doorway of her bedroom, laying her tenderly down on the bed, removing her clothes with the gentleness she had found so surprising in him after his initial savagery, until Silke lay naked before him, unashamedly so, the creamy softness of her body smooth and unblemished, breasts pert, her stomach slenderly lovely, hips curved and inviting.

‘You are beautiful,’ Lyon murmured raggedly. ‘Absolutely lovely!’

She knelt on the bed, revelling in the pleasure of helping him undress. She had known his body had to be as beautiful as those hands she found so fascinating, and was not disappointed when he stood unclothed beside her, dark hair covering that muscled chest on its path down to his thighs, not an ounce of superfluous flesh anywhere, his stomach taut, his need of her evident in his nakedness.

Nothing mattered to either of them now but pleasuring each other. And Lyon gave Silke pleasure as she had never known before, time after time, until she quivered with her need for his full possession, so desperately wanted him inside her, where she knew instinctively he belonged.

‘Touch me, Silke,’ he encouraged achingly. ‘Help me. Guide me.’

He felt like velvet, and as he shuddered beneath her touch she knew they both wanted that velvet hardness inside her, sheathed inside her silky warmth, giving them both even more pleasure, pleasure undreamt of. And so she did as he asked, guiding him, groaning her protest as he would have stopped at the barrier that suddenly halted his progress.

‘Silke?’ He looked down at her with stunned disbelief.

‘Don’t go, Lyon,’ she pleaded as he would have pulled away from her.

He shook his head. ‘But you’re a—’

‘Not any more.’ She took the initiative, arching up against him, looking up into his eyes as he breached that barrier, knowing only a brief moment of pain, and then that overwhelming pleasure returned as Lyon joined totally with her.

‘You—oh, God...!’ He ceased even trying to remain controlled as their bodies moved instinctively together in total harmony, bending his head so that his lips could claim a pouting breast.

And at the first touch of his mouth against her hardened nipple Silke felt the shudderings of an ecstasy she had never known before, wave after wave of pleasure taking her away from any reality but Lyon and their mutual lovemaking. Because Lyon was just as out of control as she was, tried desperately to be gentle still, but finally gave in to the primitive urge that was even stronger than he was, his mouth claiming hers even as he moved rhythmically inside her. And Silke knew that earth-shattering ecstasy once more before Lyon groaned his own pleasure, filling her, engulfing her.

* * *

Silke had often wondered how she would feel after making love for the first time. And now she knew. Awkward. Embarrassed. Apprehensive... Maybe if it hadn’t been Lyon who had made love to her she wouldn’t have felt any of those things, certainly not the latter. But it was Lyon, a man she really hadn’t known for very long, a man whom she loved but who didn’t love her. A man who had been shocked by her virginity...

She had loved James, but, as they had always known they were going to marry, the question of their becoming lovers before that marriage hadn’t really arisen. She had often asked herself, after James had gone off and married someone else, whether their lack of a physical relationship might have contributed to his going. Maybe it had. Although she doubted she would have known the ecstasy with him that she had just experienced. Lyon had known exactly how to make love to her to give her the ultimate in pleasure. And she hated the women who had given him that knowledge.

He lay on his back on the bed beside her, not touching her, not looking at her, staring up at the ceiling. Silke watched him beneath lowered lashes, wondering what he was thinking, but as usual his expression gave away none of his thoughts.

What happened now? How was she supposed to get through the next few minutes with any of her dignity intact? Or maybe she wasn’t. This should never have happened—

‘This should never have happened,’ Lyon harshly echoed her thoughts even as he swung his legs off the bed to stand up and begin pulling on his clothes—clothes that had been strewn about the room in their haste to feel flesh against flesh. ‘You should have told me,’ he added accusingly once he had his trousers on and was tucking his shirt into the waistband with savage movements. ‘This makes absolutely no difference to my dislike of your mother marrying my uncle, you know,’ he told her coldly. ‘I still—’

‘Don’t!’ she warned harshly, all awkwardness and embarrassment gone. As for apprehension...! ‘Get out of here, Lyon,’ she instructed coldly, getting up herself to pull on her grey silky robe to firmly tie the belt about her waist. ‘And don’t come back!’ Her eyes flashed a warning at him not even to mention her mother and Henry again in connection with what had just happened.

He was fully dressed now, looking at her with narrowed steely grey eyes—looking nothing at all like the passionate, consumed man who had just made love to her! Maybe that was something else she had learnt today—you didn’t have to be in love with the person you went to bed with. Because although she might have realised she was in love with Lyon, he certainly wasn’t in love with her! How naïve she had been all these years to believe you actually had to love the person you made love with. But then it obviously hadn’t been making love for Lyon but something much more ugly...

‘I asked you to go,’ she told him in a controlled voice. She just wanted to be alone, to try to salvage something from this situation. Starting with her pride.

‘I still can’t believe—’ He gave a perplexed shake of his head. ‘Silke, you and Cameron—’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she snapped dismissively. ‘My relationship with James is nothing to do with you.’

‘But you were going to marry the man.’ Lyon frowned.

She looked at him challengingly. ‘Yes?’

His frown deepened, and Silke could only imagine how she must look, her hair a blonde tangle about her face, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly swollen from the passion of their kisses. Just the thought of it made her face fill with heated colour and she could no longer meet his gaze.

‘Never mind,’ Lyon rasped harshly. ‘Obviously, whatever happened—or didn’t happen—between you in the past, Cameron has decided to renew the relationship!’

Silke’s eyes widened. She had no idea why James had contacted her after all this time, but she certainly didn’t believe it was for the reason Lyon did; James was married, and he had to know her at least well enough, after all this time, to realise she would never become involved with him again while he was a married man. She would never become involved with him again anyway!

Especially now... She had just made love with Lyon Buchanan, of all people!

‘James can decide what he pleases; it really doesn’t affect me,’ Silke dismissed, walking to the bedroom door. ‘I believe you were leaving,’ she said again pointedly.

Lyon didn’t move, fully dressed now, his dark hair slightly ruffled. From her fingers running through its silky thickness, Silke realised with an inward lurch of her stomach.

‘We have to talk about what happened just now—’

‘We don’t have to talk about anything,’ she cut in forcefully, wishing he would just leave so that she could lick her wounds in private. And she did feel very emotionally bruised, still couldn’t quite believe what had happened between the two of them only minutes ago in this bedroom. She couldn’t even look at the bed, didn’t know how she was ever going to be able to sleep in it again without remembering Lyon being there. She didn’t know how she was ever going to be able to sleep again anyway! ‘We both know that—just now, was a mistake,’ she added awkwardly.

‘Maybe more of one than either of us realises. Yet,’ Lyon concluded grimly.

Silke looked at him with puzzled eyes. How could it be more of a mistake than it already was? What—oh, no! She paled as she realised Lyon was referring to the possible consequences of what had just happened between them. But she couldn’t be pregnant just from... Of course she could; she wasn’t that naïve that she didn’t know it only took the once to become pregnant. And because Lyon hadn’t realised how innocent she was it hadn’t entered his head—or hers!—to use contraception. Besides, she remembered with renewed embarrassment, she had taken matters out of his control and made that impossible for him.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘You surely don’t think that I deliberately—’

‘Don’t be so damned stupid,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Neither of us planned what happened between us just now—that’s why we’re in the predicament we are!’ he added self-disgustedly.

Silke swallowed hard. ‘We probably aren’t in any predicament at all,’ she dismissed with more confidence than she felt. God, what if she were to be pregnant? What would they—she—do? Would Lyon expect her to...? It wouldn’t be any of his business, she decided firmly. It was her body, for goodness’ sake; she could do what she liked with it—and that included giving birth to Lyon’s child if she chose to do so. Just the thought of it made her stomach lurch!

‘”Probably” doesn’t do it, I’m afraid,’ he bit out coldly.

‘Well, for the moment it will have to, won’t it?’ Silke cut in heatedly. ‘I’m not about to stand here now and discuss something that’s probably not even a possibility.’ She felt far too vulnerable standing here in her bedroom wearing only her silky dressing-gown, especially as Lyon was fully dressed. ‘I suggest we just wait and see.’ She walked to the bedroom doorway, pointedly waiting for him to leave, breathing an inward sigh of relief when he at last left her bedroom. Even if it was only to come to an abrupt halt in her lounge!