Trent Ryder is a man cursed by his own charm. All he’s ever had to do to get a woman is smile. His assignment to obtain recipes from the Venusian Guild couldn’t have come at a worse time—just when Trent’s decided never to use his smile to get his own way. He needn’t have worried—Caprice Greco is immune to his smiles. To his surprise, he likes her and hopes to win her friendship. Now all he has to do is stop imagining her naked in his arms and in his bed.
Caprice, Directress of the Venusian Guild, is a betrayed woman. Trent Ryder’s smiles bring back memories of a lover who stole her heart, then left her flat. But fight as she does with all her strength and determination, she slips a little more each day into liking Trent.
Will burgeoning like blossom into a forever kind of love?
Dreams. Sweet, delicious, tempting, taunting, arousing visions that led to total satisfaction and exquisite languor.
They tiptoed in on the sound of her patio doors opening. Whispered to her on the zephyr breeze that riffled the sheer curtains. Drifted nearer, carrying Trent’s lime and mint and musky scents. Caressed her silk-clad body as her bedding floated away. Cool air made her shiver, soon replaced with the heat of his body as he took her in his arms, pressing kisses to her temples, hairline and ears.
Delight shivered down her spine. Goose bumps dotted her skin as he nibbled her earlobe. His tongue swirling the whorls caused her to giggle and moan—like her body somehow managing to stiffen and soften together—impossible except in dreams. Impossible except her tender assailant was Trent Ryder, a man who could easily carry away her heart when he left her bed.
Until he did leave… Please, Venus, permit him to remain all night.
That, sweet mortal, is entirely up to you.
Feeling as if Venus had given her permission to indulge in this wondrous dream, Caprice gave in to Trent’s gentle persuasion. She matched his every move, gliding her hands over his flexing biceps. While he sought her swelling breasts and circled her rising nipples until they ached for his lips and tongue, her fingers pinched and teased his nipples until they also stiffened, urging her to lick and suck just as he licked and sucked. Arching her back brought her breasts more fully into his warm palms, into his hot and wicked skillful mouth. Pinned beneath his powerful body, unable to do more than sigh and moaned and sift his thick hair through her trembling fingers, she relaxed completely and let him claim her inch by inch.
Her lashes drooped when he kissed her brows, then lids. Her cheeks learned the texture of his thick eyelashes and the soft scrape of his beard. At last—Sweet Goddess, at last—his lips brushed hers, so softly she feared she’d only imagine their touch. They returned, still soft but firmer, parting hers to caress and explore her mouth with his velvet-rough tongue.
She matched him thrust for thrust, glide for glide and taste for taste. Their harsh gasps melded as each sought dominance over the other’s lips and tongues. Their lower bodies joined the fray—Caprice too mindless to decide if they battled or danced to the dizzying, breath stealing melodies of a waltz.
“Too many clothes.” His deep voice stroked her as he drew her nightgown over her head.
Her gaze locked on his face, she neither knew nor cared where the fragile silk fell. All that mattered was his skin against hers with no barrier between them. The hairs on his thighs felt as soft and silky as those on his head and chest. The curls surrounding his rigid cock were coarse and rough in comparison. Rougher still on his swollen balls.
Curling her fingers around his sac, she gave it a gentle squeeze, delighted when his breath exploded against her arched neck.
“Careful,” he warned, his voice half purr, half growl. “Squeeze too hard and this will end before we begin.”
“I’m sure…we can find…a way to while away—”