Sandra Hill - [Creole] by Sweeter Savage Love Read Free Book Online

a callused palm over her shoulders, along the indentation of her small waist, to her curvy hips and long legs.
    Instead of protesting, she sighed softly and nestled closer.
    Had they made love?
    Probably.
    It wasn’t too surprising that he wouldn’t remember, either. Most of his sexual encounters in the past few years had been less than memorable. Ever since Vera had…no, he didn’t want to think about that…about anything. He just wanted to luxuriate in the sybaritic sensation of mere feeling. Long years of suppressing his emotions had left him cold inside, but he was definitely thawing now.
    He let his hand explore more. She was a small-boned female of medium height with a behind that would fit very nicely into a man’s hands, he ascertained with a slow smile, palming said mounds appreciatively. It was the kind of well-rounded ass that petite women hated, but men loved. Men, of course, having a natural appreciation for the finer points of a woman’s figure. Like a good ass.
    That was when he added important fact number three to his list. He had a huge erection rising against the woman’s inner thigh. Cain and Abel always said the morning rooster rose early. He had to say this rooster was about to crow, early or not.
    Without thinking, he shifted the woman’s body so she lay on top of him, her full breasts on his chest and the vee of her womanhood riding the ridge of his hardness. Her long, raven hair fell forward, screening her face. Lifting the hem of her tiny garment, he took one bare buttock in each of his hands and moved her against him rhythmically.
    He groaned. The pleasure was so painfully exquisite.
    She groaned, too…a soft, kittenish sound. Then she raised her head slightly, blinking at him through muddy green eyes, like a cat. “Again?”
    “Again?” he repeated dully, transfixed by her eyes.
    “Uh-huh,” she purred, tracing a forefinger over his scratchy jaw, then over his lips.
    As the vixen rubbed herself against him with feline persuasiveness, a red haze of arousal clouded Etienne’s vision. He arched his neck, panting hard, in an effort to slow the pace. Lord, had anything in his life ever felt this good?
    “How do you like having someone take you against your will?”
    Against my will? Hell, if I were any more willing, I’d explode .
    Etienne closed his eyes, trying to pay attention. But the hot blood churning in his brain wanted only one thing…his hardness imbedded inside the sweet cat’s heat. He tried to tell her, but his tongue grew thick, barring words. Instead, he raised his hips up against her in silent invitation.
    A low, seductive laugh of triumph trilled from her throat, and he opened his eyes slowly, waiting for an explanation.
    “I decided last night that I should be the aggressor next time in this forceful seduction game,” she murmured, the whole time nibbling at his neck. He could swear her tongue really was abrasive and catlike. “Would you like that, Steve?”
    Etienne blinked as the words forceful seduction and Steve wormed their way into his foggy memory, jolting him. “Damn!” Etienne lost his lustful inclinations immediately as understanding hit him like a runaway train. “Damn, damn, damn!”
    This cat-woman in the leopard-print chemise…this seductress turning him mindless with lust…it was the woman he’d booted out of his compartment last night. The one who’d …Oh, my God! He put a hand to his forehead where a bump rose ignominiously, explaining his throbbing headache. The woman had dared to strike him with hersatchel. She must have knocked him unconscious.
    She was still gazing at him with those huge, green, feline eyes, imploring him to…what?
    “Are you going to surrender to me?” she whispered in a sinfully sexy voice, low and husky and full of enticing mystery.
    “Surrender?” he choked out. Then he looked downward, which was a big mistake. Because he got a bird’s-eye view of the prettiest pair of breasts this side of heaven—uptilted,