Loving That Feeling (MF)
[Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romance, HEA]
Seared by a bigamous love cheat, designer Deborah Tremaine backs off sex. But when wealthy Serbian Zoran Pavlovi, who wants to demolish an old London cinema she’s campaigning to save, crosses her path she’s up for a fling.
Zoran has clawed his way out of Serbia’s turbulent past but believes his background means he won’t find happiness simply because he can’t trust a woman to cherish him for who he is—a Serb. But he’s a hot-blooded Slav up for no-strings sex and Deborah sends him into overdrive.
Deborah’s finances are in meltdown when a customer goes bust. Zoran dangles a business deal based in Belgrade that she can’t refuse. She’s confident the job won’t compromise the campaign and decides that Zoran is the guy who can jump-start her love life.
They embark on a sizzling affair, but tension, erotically sexual and work related, skyrockets. Incidents trigger the revelation of their personal demons. Can they escape the black holes?
A Siren Erotic Romance
“HunterGatherers has gone and done what?” Deborah felt the blood drain from her face, her knees almost buckling. The company had given her the run around for the past ten days with a clichéd litany of excuses—did we actually agree to your pricing model, we’ve mislaid your invoice, a cheque’s in the post, an online bank transfer isn’t company policy. What next? Alarmed at her sinking bank balance, she was about to consign the matter to debt collectors when Keith suggested—rather it was more akin to a summons—that she swing by and he’d see her all right. And she, still euphoric over the triumphal refit, had assumed it was to press a bonus-swollen bank draft on her.
HunterGatherers teetered on the brink of insolvency—its bank had called in the loan and her bill was a casualty of the financial guillotine. Zoran, in secret negotiations with Keith for some time, had inked a deal to take over the company’s assets, reputation, goodwill, and client base but not its debts, getting rid of the deadwood and consigning Keith, conveniently nursing a cold that day, into retirement with a very nice golden parachute.
“He can’t do this to me. Zoran, you can’t.” The denial was a whisper and she bit her lips to stop them trembling. “All those months slaving in the salt mines on his ruddy job and you’re telling me I’ll get nothing more. I’ve an employee to pay, suppliers, a pending tax demand…” A shiver stung her spine making her feel as if the temperature in the room had plummeted to icicle point. “My reputation will be in tatters if I don’t honour commitments.” Arguably it had been the worst fortnight of her business career as one big spending client after another had called to rein in grand plans during the fiscal downturn. Everything she’d striven for over the past few years seemed to lie with the men in grey suits. She doubted her bank was likely to be any friendlier than Keith’s.
Formidable in a dark designer two-piece, the whiteness of the shirt relieved by the royal blue splash of colour in the Serb-crested tie, handmade shoes polished to a mirror shine, the epitome of a ruthless venture capitalist, Zoran sat motionless, his body angled towards her, the sharpness of his eucalyptus body wash rushing out to her while she gave vent to her feelings. “I’m going to make an offer I hope you have the good sense not to refuse…”
“I need that money. Now.” Deborah could hear her voice, tight and stiff. The injustice of it was like a kick in the teeth and she willed herself not to break down in tears.
He shrugged, his face a harshly carved mask. “I dare say Keith was bounding with optimism when he commissioned, you but I agree it is, shall we say, unfortunate—”
“Unfortunate!” Deborah burst out with a short, humourless laugh. “Unfortunate! Is that all you can say? It’s bloody well more than unfortunate. It’s quite possibly curtains for me. I have to face market realities and there’s no white knight galloping to my rescue…” With a stunned sense that her life was turning upside down again, she stopped and averted her head, a sob catching in her throat. Something close to despair came bubbling over like boiling milk and she felt slightly sick.
“But the times they are a-changing and to survive you must adapt. Now enough of this…overreaction. Do you want to listen to what I have to say? If not, I shall call the meeting closed.” Zoran was distant, a coldness veiling the blackness of his eyes. He powered off his MacBook.
Numbed, as the room seemed to spin, Deborah blinked hard and, taking a deep breath, rose unsteadily to her feet, crossing over to the large plate glass windows and looking out and beyond the cloud-dappled sky to the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben.
He sounded as if he meant it.
“Okay.” The uneven response was grudgingly thrown over her shoulder.
“Then give it the consideration it deserves,” he said tersely. “Stop pacing, turn round and sit down and show yourself the business woman you claim to be.” He motioned to a chair “Do it before my scant patience frays. I won’t discuss this with your back to me.” He paused and added in that deep, sexy voice of his, “Although that leaves scope for other things…”
Muttering under her breath, Deborah, still reeling from the news, whirled round, the movement making her breasts sway, and jerked out a chair at the end of the table—she couldn’t have been further away if she’d tried Zoran noticed wryly—hunching herself down on. She looked bleak and adrift, as if her whole life hung by a thread. Her hands balled tight into fists, and he saw her gaze flick towards him then away to pin itself to the artwork on the walls.
“Did you get what I said?” The rough acid in his tone burned her. He had no other way to get through.
She did not think she could stand the sweet torment any longer. He was on top of her, his fingers threading through the splayed strands of hair, his tongue teasing a path down her breasts, her stomach, to the intimate core of her.
Her voice was raw with need. “I want to see you…” Her fingers fumbled for the zip of his trousers. His hand closed round hers and as together they tugged it down he rummaged roughly in a pocket and tossed the contents onto the bedside table.
“Ambitious,” Deborah murmured as she caught glints of tin foil. “But don’t keep me waiting.”
“This must go.” He unbuttoned his shirt and bowled it to mingle with the other garments. “And the pleasure of unleashing this is yours.”
Deborah leaned over and, taking the waistband of his Armani briefs between her teeth, lowered them slowly to his straining, hot dick. Her hair skimmed across his flat belly and he let out a deep groan like that of a rutting stag. He leaned forward and ripped the briefs aside as they snagged his ankle and then his long, muscular frame curved in towards her.
“You’re beautiful and very desirable. And I love that luscious au naturel bush. The minute I saw you I sensed our sexual compatibility.” His dark eyes were like magnets connecting her to the very fibre of his being.
“I want you in me and then—”
Zoran’s lips moved across her cheek and found her mouth and she breathed in the warm musk of his skin, smelled the warmth of his hardening cock. He took one rosy breast in his mouth and sucked and demand stormed through her.
“Take me with you,” Deborah gasped, her heart pounding.
He kissed her left foot his lips, brushing her toes and ankle then, slowly kissing the inside of her leg, he moved up to her calf, savouring, tasting her ripening . As he reached the sensitive back of her knee, he flicked it with his tongue and she gasped with pleasure and folded her face into his chest. He lifted his head and kissed her lips then lowered his mouth to her thigh, feathering her butt with his tongue as he made his way along up to her lower back. Reaching her neck, he smoothed aside her hair and kissed her neck and ears. There was something about her he couldn’t define. Something…dewy.
“I’m just getting started with you,” he whispered.
If that was just getting started…imagine…
The warm weight of his balls against her made her want to come. “I can’t wait,” she murmured as he slid a pillow under her back, arching her towards him as he angled his firm body over her. He reached over and sheathed himself, nuzzling her flame-gold pussy, slowly probing into her in an erotic slowness that had her aching for him, aching for the fulfilment of all that he promised.
She gave a little moan. His head went up, sensing the clenching betrayal of her body and he paused. She wasn’t…she couldn’t be…he didn’t do needy virgins.
“Do we have a problem?”
“I haven’t done this for a long time.” Deborah’s voice was almost inaudible against the stubble of his jaw as she hungered for him, savouring his large, stiff , dripping cock against her.
He was resting on his elbows, the strain of control marking his face. “So it has been all work and no foreplay?”
“Something like that… Don’t stop.” Her body cried out for him and taking his cock in her mouth, she sucked it as she offered her thighs up to him.
“Trust me. Just relax.” He soothed her with kisses from her breasts down to the yielding core of her. She was tense but slowly she yielded and became mossy damp.
Sensing her readiness, Zoran threw back his head, desire slamming into him, heating and hardening him and he growled from deep inside his chest, drawing her closer into his naked arousal. He reached over and their lips met as if it were for the last time in melting intimacy, their tongues brushing, playing, devouring, a mutual primitive need damming all instincts of self-restraint.
Deborah had known what she wanted when she came here. To heal the wound locked inside her. To enjoy her sexuality, free of the raw ties of emotion.
“I want you inside me now, Zoran. Take me…fast,” she whispered, clinging to him. She smelt the scent of his skin and her heart pounded, her body arching, opening for him.
“Lift your legs to ninety degrees, Deborah, and we’ll ride there together.” He murmured something in Serbian that she didn’t understand and, pushing back her hair, the dark glitter of his gaze pinned and held her own. And then. “Neither of us will misunderstand this, misunderstand the games we play.”
She knew what he meant but that would change nothing. “Yes,” she whispered, sensing she had broken free and was moving on. Nothing else could ever matter to her again but the heat of his long, engorged cock inside her, his possession of her, her surrender to his essence.
He slid a hand between her raised legs and she gasped as he kneed them farther apart.
“Wider, for me.” He leaned forward, his fingers stroking her thighs, probing her clit, dipping and thrusting in and out, his tongue swirling the velvet of her inner core. She shuddered, warm, elemental sensations she’d never felt before igniting her nerve-endings, filling her, fuelling her, to respond to his need. It felt good. Oh so good.
“Wanting you so badly. I’ve got to come.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and waves of pleasure flooded through her as she felt the soaking wetness of her yearning.
“Come for me.” He ripped the foil with his teeth and rolled on the condom.
Soft hued swathes of silver spilled from the crescent moon highlighting the polished gleam of his hair and, aching for him, she dug her hands into his hard muscled arms.
Zoran’s warm hands rose to cup her creamy breasts and softly encircling her nipples, he kissed them and she shivered, never wanting this to end.
“Don’t stop what you’re doing,” she whispered as she took his dripping silken cock between her lips, the taste of his creamy cum flooding her senses.