Game for Seduction

Screwing Melissa was the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

But even as he despised himself for taking her so ruthlessly, all he wanted was to run his hands over her lush ass, slide his fingers into her slick heat, and hear her cry out his name again. His dick twitched against her thigh, and he couldn't stop himself from cupping one full, perfect breast. Her nipple beaded in his palm and he accepted that there was no turning back, no sending her home tonight.

Tomorrow he'd deal with the consequences and repent.

She shifted drowsily against him and her eyes fluttered open. Surprise registered in her sleepy eyes.

"Dominic, am I really in your bed?"

He murmured, "Yes," against her lips, then gently shifted her weight so that her ass was pressed against his erection. She rocked against him and he reached for another condom. "I need to be inside you again."

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, her voice soft and warm.

His c**k grew another inch at her invitation. He played with the fullness of her br**sts, the hardness of her ni**les as he sheathed himself with the condom, then opened her thighs with his knee.

She had to be sore from the way he'd spread open her incredibly tight pu**y just a short time ago, but he had to have her—had to feel the sweet pressure of her climax squeezing him, giving him the most intense pleasure he'd ever known.

He found the entrance to her slick pu**y and slid inside her in one fast thrust. Her breath whooshed out in a gasp, but all he could think about was how good it felt to be surrounded by her heat.

Slipping one hand beneath her rib cage, he twisted her ni**les with his fingers, allowing his other hand to roam to her slick cunt. Her clit was tight and hard and he rubbed it in time to his thrusts, pushing against her arousal with his fingers as he invaded her with his shaft.

Her breath grew quick and shallow, and knowing that she was on the verge of coming again in his arms, he released the hold on his strict self-control. In moments, her cries of ecstasy mixed with his roars of pleasure. He'd never come so hard or so long, or been squeezed so tight.

Melissa McKnight was the hottest piece of ass he'd ever had. It was going to kill him to walk away from her lush curves and wild sensuality—even if it was the right thing to do.

Chapter Seven

An unfamiliar whirring sound woke Melissa up. Deep under a plush bedspread and sinfully soft sheets, she opened her eyes. All at once, everything came back to her. Dominic had brought her home from the bar. She'd seduced him and he'd pounced on her and made her every fantasy come to life.

The smell of fresh-ground coffee wafted into the bedroom. Her muscles ached as she stretched. If she had her way, she'd stay naked in Dominic's bed forever.

And he could have his way with her whenever he wanted.

His thrilling words bounced around in her head: You were made for me. It was something she'd always known, but she'd never expected him to feel the same way. Happiness flooded through her as she threw back the covers.

She opened the door to his walk-in closet and took a deep breath of his trademark scent—pine trees in summer sun. Taking a white button-down shirt off its hanger, she slipped it on and smiled. She couldn't wait to persuade him to let their coffee grow cold while they went back to bed and explored the daylight hours together.

Although, she thought with a grin, given the way he'd taken her again and again during the night, he wasn't going to need much persuasion.

She brushed her teeth with some toothpaste on one finger and finger combed her hair. Her makeup had worn off during the night, but every time she thought about their intense lovemaking she flushed and her eyes grew bright, so she figured she looked okay without it.

Naked except for his shirt, which hung to her knees, she walked down the hall to the kitchen.

Dominic's back was to her as she stood in the doorway admiring his beautiful physique. His slacks framed his tight butt and his well-pressed, tailored shirt made his shoulders look impossibly broad. Something about his outfit struck her as odd, though. Did he have an appointment this morning? She hoped he'd whip through his meeting and daily summertime workout and be back soon so they could get back to the good stuff.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit chirp ier than she'd planned. How was it that he still made her nervous, after everything they'd shared?

He slowly turned to face her, and her stomach knotted at his serious expression.

"Melissa." He said her name hard and low, like the pronouncement of a death sentence.

"The coffee smells good," she said, trying to act like nothing was wrong, like there wasn't an enormous white elephant in the room with them. "Where do you keep your mugs?"

He pointed to a cupboard above the dishwasher. She opened the cherrywood door and went on her toes to reach for a mug on the top shelf. His shirt rode up her thighs, showcasing the curves of her bottom, and she desperately hoped he was watching. That he'd remember what he'd done to her just a few hours ago, that he'd remember what he'd said about being meant for each other.

Closing the cupboard door, she turned and held out the mug. His hands were steady as he poured, and she worked to control her nerves as she blew steam off the top.

"I'm sorry," he said into the awkward silence. His simple words broke her heart. Obviously he regretted the passionate hours they'd shared. And now he had clearly steeled himself to do the right thing, to apologize for making love to her.

She wanted to cry, to scream that it wasn't fair. She'd thought she was finally going to see her dreams come true; instead, she'd been nothing but a mistake.

A huge mistake, judging by his grim expression. But the worst thing of all would be if he saw how much his rejection hurt her, so she forced herself to stare back into his dark eyes.

"There is nothing to be sorry about," she said in a surprisingly steady voice.

He looked at her with obvious relief, and she realized that he'd been bracing himself for tears. But she hadn't cried in front of her father, and she wasn't going to cry now.

"You were off-limits," he said, as if that should explain everything. "You still are."

Ten minutes ago she'd foolishly assumed they would start dating, that she'd be his girlfriend, just because he made her come three times in a row. But she'd known all along that it was just one night in heaven, hadn't she? She couldn't get all angry and hurt when he'd never promised her anything else.