Home > The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress (At His Service #3)(28)

The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress (At His Service #3)(28)
Author: Emma Darcy

Her inner muscles convulsed around him. He bent his head, his mouth invading hers, his tongue thrusting, reinforcing each plunge to the melting heart of her, taking an ownership that she was beyond matching, her entire body fusing as ecstatic waves washed through her, wiping out all the frenzied tension, sweeping her into a sweet nirvana made even sweeter as he climaxed and relaxed in her embrace.

It was done, she thought hazily, and there’d been no humiliation in it.

None at all.

Which made her feel a lot better about being his mistress.

Ethan hauled Daisy with him as he moved onto his side, keeping the intimate connection intact for as long as it would last. He revelled in the feeling of deep physical union with this woman, smiled ironically over the fact that she’d blown his mind again. His plan to have sex with her on his terms had been totally sabotaged. Not that he would change one bit of what they had just shared. Were still sharing, although the intensity level had eased—the lull of peace after the storm.

One thing was definitely settled. It had been well worth while helping her parents with their financial affairs. Having this with Daisy Donahue was a new benchmark in his sex life, one he couldn’t imagine ever being surpassed. Of course, it could go down from here. In his experience, the highs were always at the beginning of a relationship. The best part was he’d have them all, since he had the guarantee of lots of time with her, as much time as he wanted.

He stroked her hair, content to lie quietly for a while, soak up the satisfying fact that their desire for each other was mutual. Not that he’d ever doubted it. Neither did he care any more why she had turned away from it before. They were together now.

A nasty little thought wormed its way into the bliss of the moment. Once the money came through for her parents and they actually had their hands on it, would Daisy still comply with the deal? What if she kissed him off and walked away, wagging her sexy bottom at him in scornful contempt for his belief in her word?

He hated being played.

And he’d hate her if she did it.

So that would be the end of any desire for her.

In the meantime, he was assured of this weekend of compliant togetherness and he’d enjoy it more if he put the trust issue out of his mind. It might not ever raise its ugly head. Daisy had a strong streak of integrity. And many other qualities he liked. He wanted to enjoy her. He would enjoy her.

Besides, if she did renege on the deal once his side of it had been finalised, he still came out the winner. She would have spent more time on his terms than he’d spent on her parents’ financial problem.

He grinned to himself.

Before this night was out, he would definitely do everything he wanted to do with Daisy Donahue.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE morning after…

Daisy lay absolutely still, acutely conscious of the naked body her own naked body was intimately spooned against and the strong, masculine arm holding her there with its weight. Even asleep, Ethan was making his dominant presence felt, ensuring she remained with him in his bed.

What next? she wondered. How did he intend to fill in two whole days with her? Non-stop sex wasn’t really possible, was it? Not that she had anything to complain about in that department. He had pleasured her so much and in so many different ways last night, he could go on doing it as long as he liked. Being his mistress in that sense was certainly no hardship. In fact, he was such a fantastic lover she could very well get addicted to having sex with him. Just go with the flow, and try not to get too carried away by it, she told herself. She was his toy until he got tired of her. That was the inevitable bottom line.

Probably the best attitude to adopt was to think of him as her toy, as well, not let herself take anything too seriously, enjoy everything she could while somehow building and maintaining a shield around her heart. She should try to gain some control of their relationship, at least not leave all the decisions to him.

Lying here, waiting for him to wake up and direct the play was too submissive. Surely her time was her own when he was out of action. There was no reason not to take some initiative herself, like getting out of bed and making herself coffee as she did every morning.

Very slowly and carefully she lifted Ethan’s arm enough to slide out from under it. Having eased herself off the bed, she quickly headed for the guest suite where she had unpacked her bag. One look at her reflection in the mirrored doors of the built-in cupboards made an immediate visit to the bathroom mandatory. She hadn’t cleaned her face of make-up last night, resulting in clownish eyes from smudged mascara, and her hair was a mess.

Daisy brushed her hair, fastened it in a top-knot, took a long, hot shower, tried not to think of Ethan’s hands caressing her body as she soaped herself clean—half wondering if he would start that all over again when he did wake up—then gave herself a brisk towelling to erase the wickedly wanton tingling in her skin.

She was in the act of donning her silk kimono when the call of her name made her heart jump. Ethan’s tone was not the rich, seductive purr of last night’s satisfied lover. It was sharp, harsh, demanding. An apprehensive shiver ran down her spine. Was he angry at finding her gone from his bed?

Daisy’s spirit of independence fiercely reasserted itself. He had not bought a slave and she wasn’t going to be turned into one. She took a deep breath and stood her ground, calling back, ‘I’m over here in the guest suite.’

She was tying the belt of her kimono when he barged into the bedroom, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw her. He was still stark naked and every taut muscle of his magnificent physique seemed pumped up with intimidating aggression. It was an act of will for Daisy not to freeze with fear on the spot.

The grim, fighting expression on his face slowly relaxed and the blaze of battle in his eyes dimmed as he took in the long, vivid gown she was wearing. ‘The colours of Africa,’ he said with a musing little smile. ‘It suits you.’

Enormously relieved that the blast of tension had eased, Daisy held out her arms to show him the long drops of the sleeves. ‘It’s a kimono. I thought I’d be your geisha girl and make you tea.’

He threw back his head and laughed, a great peel of joyous laughter that rippled right through her heart, which should have been shielded but quite hopelessly wasn’t. He strolled towards her, a huge grin on his face. ‘Dinner, morning tea…you’re full of surprises, Daisy. What next?’

He picked her up and twirled her around in sheer exuberance. Daisy felt like an aeroplane with her long sleeves flapping, her own spirits lifting sky-high. He was still grinning when he set her on her feet again. ‘Make it coffee, not tea,’ he happily instructed. ‘Give me ten minutes to shower, shave and clean my teeth and I’ll be down to cook you breakfast. Let me surprise you.’

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