He had her so high she could almost see stars. “Or maybe you want me to tell you how hard my cock is for you, and how it’s actually fucking hurting me because I want to screw you so badly? Is that it, Kara?”
He had a way of only using her name at the very best moments, and she instinctively reached down and covered him with her hand, kneading him. The feel of him rigid beneath her fingers excited her almost beyond reason.
“You see how hard you’ve got me?” he said, sliding her closer and lifting her off the bar with one arm as he unbuttoned his jeans.
He turned her and bent her over the bar. The tear of foil was music to her ears, and seconds later he was against her, rocking his cock along the length of her sex. The mirrored surface of the bar chilled her nipples, and Dylan was oh so hot between her thighs.
And then he was inside her, hard and thick, making her gasp his name and look for something to hold onto.
His hand lay splayed between her shoulder blades, pinning her down as he thrust into her. Hard. She wanted harder still.
“More,” she gasped. “More.”
He paused, then moved back a fraction and lowered them both down until her knees felt the cool, hard floor behind the bar.
“Like this?” he ground out, throwing his hips forward so his cock hit home again and again. He wound her hair around his hand when she dropped her head back. “Will you come if I touch your clit now, English?”
She was pretty sure she was going to come just at the sound of his rasped words. Her stomach muscles jumped when he slid his hand over them, gliding down between her spread legs.
Greedy for him, she spread her knees wider, and he responded with an intensely sexual, guttural moan. His steady, hard thrusts pounded faster, harder, and she met him slam for slam, taking him to the hilt, trembling as her orgasm happened beneath his fingers and around his cock.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his body juddering behind her once, twice, and then again before he finally slowed.
Dylan crouched over her, pulling her down with him when he collapsed sideways onto the bar floor. He surrounded her, his heart beating hard against her back, every bit as erratically as her own.
Bob Marley crooned in the background. Is this love, he asked? ‘No,’ Kara replied in her head, euphoric, dreamy. ‘It’s not love, but it sure as hell is the best sex ever.’
Dylan wrapped himself around the warmth and softness of Kara’s body, filling his hands and his mind with her to keep it from all of the bad stuff. Bob Marley suggested putting his cards on the table, as he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her.
No way. No fucking way.
Chapter Sixteen
Blissful didn’t cover Sophie’s joy when Tilly and her nanny arrived in Ibiza the following weekend. The little girl shattered the peaceful vibe of the villa into a million pieces, much to the satisfaction of her daddy. Sophie watched them from the kitchen window, Lucien lifting a shrieking Tilly over his head in the swimming pool, that big baby laugh shaking her entire body when he splashed her down again into the water.
Of all of the changes she’d witnessed in him over the years, the way he’d embraced fatherhood had been the most profound. To the rest of the world he was still the charismatic, uber-glamorous poster boy of the adult entertainment industry; it was only within the confines of their home that he relaxed his guard. Sophie alone knew his intricacies, the fears that drove him and kept him strong.
He was a different man in many ways these days. He’d turned the hot glare of danger to a lower simmer; the heat was still there, but quietened by the safety of being loved. In other ways he’d become stronger still. He was a warrior for his family, their strength and their protector.
She watched him climb out of the water with Tilly on his shoulders, her sweet limbs wrapped around the lone wolf tattoo inked over his shoulders. Sophie knew it by heart. She’d traced her fingers over it countless times, reminded each time of his heritage, his dark days, and gladdened that Lucien was no longer lonely.
“I think I’ve tired her out.” Lucien walked inside a couple of minutes later, the sleepy child, wrapped in a towelling robe, resting on his shoulder. Tilly’s flopped arm and relaxed fingers told Sophie she was already snoozing, and a peep over Lucien’s shoulder confirmed it.
“I’ll put her down if you like,” Kara offered, walking in from poolside and pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head. She wasn’t a woman who went mushy at the sight of a baby, yet something about Tilly had got under her skin. They seemed to connect, probably because Tilly was showing signs of being every bit as precocious as her mother’s best friend.
Lucien dropped on the sofa as Kara left the room with Tilly in her arms, and Sophie flopped beside him. The sun had dried the pool water from his skin, leaving him warm to the touch and smelling of holidays and good times. She looped her arm over his bare midriff and snuggled into him, grabbing the moment to be alone.
“I’ve been thinking about the wedding…” she said, enjoying the weight of the arm Lucien slung across her shoulders.
“And?” he said, rubbing the top of her arm.
“I thought Norway?”
He turned his head and looked down at her, thoughtful. “I thought here.”
“Here? In Ibiza?” Sophie said, surprised.
He nodded. “At the end of the summer.”
“As in… the next couple of months?” she said, even more surprised. They hadn’t talked about timescales, she’d just assumed that it would be some time the following year.
“Just you, me, and Tilly.”
Sophie paused, struck by the romantic image of the three of them in the sunshine, daisies in Tilly’s hair.
“We’d need witnesses, at least,” she said, uncertain if she loved his idea or not.
“Kara and Dylan,” Lucien said, slotting the pieces into place. “I’d like to take you home to London as Mrs. Knight,” he smooched the sensitive skin below her ear. It was the first time he’d ever said the words ‘Mrs. Knight,’ and a slow zing of happiness spread a smile across her face.
The more she imagined it, the more she loved his plan.
“Okay,” she said, laughing, turning into his kiss. “Okay. Ibiza it is. And soon.”
The next couple of weeks slipped by with alarming speed, each day a day closer to launch night at the club. Kara’s heart flipped whenever she drove past one of the huge, sexy roadside hoardings for Gateway Ibiza. VIP guests were invited, a celebrity DJ had signed on for a residency, and the press would be out in force. Lucien’s PR machine had swung into full assault; there couldn’t be many people on the island who didn’t know they were there.