Captured by the Billionaire: Brooding Billionaire, Impoverished Princess

But, when she turned to go, a hand on her shoulder froze her into stillness. Heart juddering into overdrive, she opened her mouth to object, then closed it again and allowed herself to be eased around to face him.

Their eyes duelled—his narrowed in an intent, direct challenge so forceful she shivered.

‘Tell me what you want,’ he said, each word harsh and distinct.

She swallowed and nodded, stunned at her trust in this man she barely knew. ‘You already know,’ she said in a tone she’d never used before.

His chest rose and fell. Mindlessly, she swayed into his arms as they closed around her.

‘Look at me,’ he commanded, his voice low and raw.

Serina obeyed, and abandoned the final remnants of caution when she saw his gaze heat with a blaze of desire.

It was far too soon to surrender, she thought vaguely, but when his mouth claimed hers her mind closed down, yielding to the pure carnal rapture of sensation, releasing the barriers of her will to let her body enjoy what it craved—had craved so desperately since their first kiss.

No, even before that, although she’d rarely let herself admit it. Their first meeting a year ago had sparked a hunger that the long months apart had only increased.

His lips opened on hers, coaxing and persuasive. Shivering deliciously at the silent invitation, she accepted it. His tongue plunged, and she wriggled against him, her body insistently demanding a satisfaction she’d never yet experienced.

Alex’s arms tightened, bringing her into intimate, explosive contact with the hardness of his loins. Rivulets of fire ran through her, turning into ashes all the convictions that had kept her a virgin.

He lifted his head. Serina sighed, turned her face into his neck and sank her teeth lightly into his skin.

‘Serina.’

The way he said her name—in a voice raw with passion—sounded more wonderful to her than the most exquisite music. She kissed the tanned, subtly flavoured skin she’d bitten, inhaling the faint sensuous scent that was his alone. A shudder flexed his lean body and she felt the latent power there, the male strength she both desired and feared.

‘Alex,’ she said softly and, in her own language, the language of her ancestors, she murmured, ‘Your kiss has stolen my soul…’

‘What are you saying?’

Realisation iced through her. How could she have been so swept away as to come out with that? Shocked, she overcame her reckless need sufficiently to say tonelessly, ‘It’s something from an old Montevellan folk song. My first nurse used to sing it to me…’

The words faltered in her mouth and she could have bitten her tongue out. If this was what lust did to you—unlocked the bars of your mind so that all the secrets came spilling out—it was terrifying.

And love had to be even worse—a total revelation. How could anyone bear it? Closing her eyes, she turned her head away.

‘Translate it for me,’ Alex said.

Ever since she’d been old enough to realise the depths of passion in the simple words, she’d refused to believe anyone could feel so desperately lost to desire. Now she’d known that same reckless capitulation, she understood, and the knowledge locked her lips.

A lean finger turned her head, tilted it. She forced her eyelids up, braced herself to meet and repel the leashed authority of his gaze.

‘Serina?’

And, when she couldn’t move, he said, ‘All right, you don’t want to tell me, but you can come out of hiding.’

Shrugging, she tried for a smile. It wobbled precariously, but she managed to say in a reasonably level voice, ‘It’s nothing, really. Take the music away and it turns into the usual treacly sentiments you find in every pop song. And I’m not going to sing it to you!’

She felt his chest lift, and his quiet laughter reverberated against her. ‘It seems only poets can do true justice to our deepest emotions. Whatever was said in your old song, it’s entirely mutual.’

Swift and sure, he kissed her. His previous kisses had taken her to an unknown place where the rules she’d lived her life by were shattered. This one was so frankly carnal it set her head reeling. Her mouth softened under his, opened again.

A prisoner of dangerous need, she melted into him, taking reckless delight in the harsh intake of his breath. Whatever he felt, she thought with her last remnant of logic, he couldn’t hide his hunger.

When he lifted his head she tensed, thinking he was going to stop, but he transferred his attention to her throat, and after he’d found the vulnerable hollow at the base he trailed kisses across the silken skin to reach the acutely sensitive spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

Her knees buckled at the sensation—urgent and savagely consuming—that drowned her in molten pleasure, singing through her body with a primal magnetic summons.

His teeth grazed her skin, repeating the erotic little caress she’d given him. Sensation stormed through her. In her innermost heart Serina realised that she had been born for his touch.

Born for this man…

Panic clogged her throat.

Alex raised his head. Half-closed gaze holding her still, he shifted one hand to cup a pleading, sensitised breast.

Anticipation, wild and feverishly sweet, clamoured through Serina. Unable to bear the intensity of it, stunned by the discovery she’d just made, she let her lashes droop to hide her eyes.

But he commanded, ‘Look at me.’

Barely able to articulate, she whispered, ‘It’s too much…’

‘It’s not enough,’ he rasped.

‘Alex,’ she muttered, unable to say anything more, clinging to his name as a life-raft in this turbulent sea of emotional discovery.

He lowered his head again and took her mouth.

The kiss was urgent and compelling. Inside, she became hot and slick, her body preparing her for the ultimate embrace. For a fleeting moment she stiffened but, when his other hand found her hips and eased her even closer, she knew that if she didn’t follow where her heart led she’d always regret it. No matter what happened, what lay ahead, she wanted this—wanted Alex—with a desperation that made rejection unthinkable.

Her breath stopped in her lungs as his thumb moved slowly, lightly across the nub of her breast, sending jagged white-hot darts of excitement through her.

She needed…something else; without volition, her back arched, pressing the curve of her breast into his palm.

His smile taut and humourless, Alex repeated the small movement. Its impact went right down to her toes, sizzling from nerve to nerve and melting her spine. A soft, erotic little sound in her throat startled her.

He had to be able to hear—and feel—the thunder of her heart as her breasts lifted and fell more and more rapidly, in time with the tormenting glide of his thumb over the acutely sensitive centre.

Waves of pleasure swelled through her in intolerable yearning. Buttressing them was an emotion even stronger and more durable than this shimmering, incandescent desire.

Somehow, without realising it, she’d fallen in love with Alex.

Knowing full well that it wasn’t returned…

Dimly, Serina knew she should be afraid, shocked, bewildered—should feel anything other than this sensuous delight that gave her the courage to raise her lashes when the kiss had finished.

Alex’s eyes gleamed like midnight sapphires in the bronzed, autocratic angles of his face. Her pulse rocketed when she saw the evidence of her fierce response to his kisses on his mouth—both the thinner top lip and the sensuous curve of the bottom were fuller than normal.

Her hands had somehow worked themselves across his back. She let them quest further down, her body tightening in exquisite supplication when she felt his response beneath her palms. Emboldened, she went further, only to freeze when the powerful thigh muscles stirred against her.

His eyes blazed a question.

Colour burned across her skin. With a lingering kiss to his throat, she signalled her wordless agreement but he demanded, ‘You’re sure?’

‘Very sure.’ Could that be her voice, vibrant with languorous promise?

But should she tell him that this was very new to her?

It seemed only fair, although a cloud darkened the surface of her excitement. After nervously wetting her lips, she muttered, ‘I haven’t…haven’t actually…’

‘You’re not protected?’ He held her away from him, his expression difficult to read. ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he said swiftly and hugged her. ‘I can deal with it.’

Her eager anticipation dimmed a little more. Of course he would have protection. No doubt his other lovers had spent time with him in this house—although they, she thought on a pang of sharp jealousy, had probably slept in the big bed she’d glimpsed in his room.

Alex said, ‘But not here, I think. Would you like time to get ready?’

No, she would not; it might give her time to rethink this. And if she did that she’d always regret it.

She looked at him with something like challenge. ‘Like a Victorian bride?’ she said, then wondered what trick from her unconscious had brought that to mind.

Because bridal was exactly how she felt—a little afraid, more than a little self-conscious, and yet eager, longing for what was going to happen.

And she still hadn’t let him know that she was totally inexperienced.

She opened her mouth again to do so, but he stopped the tumbling words with a kiss, and under that passionate onslaught she forgot what she’d been going to say, forgot everything but the elemental need to make love to him.

When he lifted his head she leaned into him to kiss his throat again. Daringly, she licked the place she’d just kissed, savouring the essence of him.

‘Hardly a Victorian bride,’ he said unevenly. ‘Your bedroom, I think.’

Her acquiescence turned into a squeak when he swung her up into his arms.

‘I’m too heavy,’ she protested.

‘You’re tall, but far from heavy.’

His smile revealed a flash of sheer male pleasure in his strength and, held against his heart, Serina felt more secure than she’d ever been in her life.

Outside her room, he slid her down his body and held her for a moment before turning the door handle. Inside, the room was warmed by the glow from the lamp on the bedside table.

Serina went in ahead and turned, holding the door wide. ‘Welcome,’ she said in a smoky little voice, and immediately felt foolish.

This was his house, after all.

But he said, ‘Thank you,’ as though he understood the obscure impulse that had summoned the words. And then he said with a wry twist of his lips, ‘I’ll leave you here for a few seconds.’

Of course. Protection…

Why hadn’t he chosen his bedroom to make love to her? Serina closed the door behind him and stared sightlessly around the beautifully furnished room. Perhaps he liked his privacy, she thought with a hint of hysteria.

She had no idea how to behave, probably for the first time since childhood—and now there was no mother, no governess to school her.

This was just her and the man she loved, the man she wanted with all her heart and with every importunate cell in her body.

A tap on the door made her start. She swung around and after a cowardly second opened it.

Awkwardness overwhelmed her. Fixing her eyes on the middle of Alex’s chest, she searched desperately for something to say, finally coming out with, ‘When I was a child my nurse always left the light on so I never went into a dark room.’

‘Because of the nightmares?’

She nodded. ‘I’m afraid I still make sure of it, even though I know I shouldn’t waste power.’

‘Your peace of mind is as important as saving electricity,’ he said quietly. ‘Why are you looking so intently at my button?’

The question jerked her head up, as perhaps he’d hoped it would, and her knees buckled under the heat of his gaze.

‘It’s a very nice button,’ she said idiotically.

He took her hand and placed it squarely over the button so that the heavy, fast thud of his heartbeat reverberated into her palm.

‘Perhaps you’d like to undo it,’ he suggested, a hint of laughter in his tone surprising her, and somehow relieving a little of her shyness.

She accepted the challenge, then with great daring slid her hand into the opening she’d made. Excitement flared within her at the immediate increase in his pulse rate.

‘See what you do to me?’ he asked roughly.

His skin was hot and taut, a fine scroll of hair giving it texture above a firm contrasting layer of muscle. Serina luxuriated in the novelty of exploring him, and bravely undid the button above the first. When he made no objection, she freed the one above that too.

‘You might as well finish the job,’ he said when she hesitated.

Head bent, she did just that, then pushed the shirt back from his shoulders and drew in a long uneven breath at what her fingers revealed.

The only word her dazed mind could come up with was magnificent. The lamplight gleamed richly on supple, sleek skin, lovingly burnishing the clean, strong lines of him. Next to him, she felt small, delicate, even fragile. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think and her hands shook as they fell to her sides.

Almost immediately, he reached for her and said into her hair, ‘My sweet girl, don’t be afraid.’

‘I’m not,’ she blurted. ‘I’m—I’m overwhelmed.’

She kissed his shoulder, then remembered the caress he’d given her—only a few minutes ago, yet she felt she’d come so far since then—and raised her hand to flick her thumb across one tight male nipple.

His sharply indrawn breath filled her with delight. He tilted her face so that he could see her, and she met his narrowed blazing eyes with something like a challenge in her own.

‘I’m glad,’ he said smoothly. ‘And now it’s my turn to be overwhelmed.’

He unzipped the back of her dress and unhooked her bra with an ease that showed how familiar he was with a woman’s clothes—with a woman’s body. Ignoring the pang that thought gave her, she took refuge in silence when the dress fell free of her shoulders, revealing the black silk bra and briefs that hugged a narrow waist and slender hips.

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