Midnight Encounters
Heat of the Moment
On the night the Cereus blooms, temptation paints a picture impossible to resist.
Night of the Cereus
? 2008 Anya Delvay
Artist’s model Melanie Fletcher likes to keep life simple, and painter Marcus Alejandro practically oozes complications. And sex appeal.
Posing for him, surrounded by the seductive scent of the night-blooming Cereus, Melanie’s self-imposed rules of a lifetime are slowly being undermined. She begins to wonder—would it really hurt to give in to her lust, just this once?
Initially drawn to the dichotomy between Melanie’s reserved exterior and hidden passion, Marcus soon discovers the more he gets from her, the more he wants. Her delicious body isn’t enough. He needs to know her intimately, both inside and out, but getting her to trust him is harder than he ever imagined.
How much can he ask for before she walks away?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Night of the Cereus
“Stay.”
Melanie blinked, the reserve in her eyes deepening, hands sliding from his ass to rest lightly on his hips. Whether to hold on or to push him away, he couldn’t tell. It was in her voice too, mingled with surprise as she lied. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”
Instead of challenging her, Marcus slid one hand free from her hair, reaching down to follow the line of her arm, capture her fingers and bring them to his lips. “Good,” he kissed the palm of her hand, “I don’t want you to think this will be a quickie.” Her muscles clenched fractionally and Marcus bent to rest his lips on her throat, just below her ear. A frantic pulse beat there, and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring, “I want to explore you, taste you, learn everything I can about you and your body. If that’s too much for you, now is the time to say so, before this goes any farther.”
Then he waited, absorbing her little shivers, soaking in the softness of her breasts and belly and thighs, the sweet scent of her. Cradling, and being cradled by her, suddenly afraid. Had he lost his mind? Why the hell had he given her an excuse to leave?
He wants too much, more than I can give. More than I want to give.
Yet she couldn’t seem to get her body to move, her feet to take the path back to her car. Instead there was a softening sensation deep in her belly, a heightened awareness of his strength, the solid, muscular form pressing her against the wall. Every breath he took caused his chest to rise and slide over her breasts, further inflaming nipples already sensitive to the point of pain.
He was wrong. Leaving hadn’t been on her mind…had it?
“Don’t try to complicate this, Marcus.”
She kept her voice calm, tried to make it cool, and he huffed, a cross between disbelief and a chuckle. Straightening to trail his hand along her arm, then cupping the side of her neck, he searched her eyes, his face tight and amused. “You prefer simple, Melanie? Or controllable?”
“Both.”
Yet even as she said it, she felt the lie. Yes, she usually went for uncomplicated encounters, where she could enjoy the physical and not worry about tomorrow. Chose men willing to take what she was willing to give, who didn’t want or demand more. Already she was past the usual with Marcus. Her control was slipping, questions and desires swirling inside, creating a ferment of feelings she could no longer identify. It was terrifying, enlivening, stimulating beyond any other experience of her life.
Marcus was still watching her, and it took every ounce of determination not to look away, or to show the truth on her face. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he spoke slowly, letting each word sink in.
“I think sometimes complicated and uncontrolled are good.” His hand moved suddenly, pulling at the buttons until her blouse sagged open. Running his finger along the edge of her lacy bra, he continued, “Simple would mean giving in to the impulse to lift your skirt and slide into that hot, wet, pussy, right here and now. Simple would mean fucking you against this wall, then walking you back to your car after we’ve come. Somehow, I don’t think simple will work for me tonight.”
Melanie’s legs trembled as she imagined him lifting her, his hard length sliding in, hands clutching her ass. God, she wanted that so bad. His words, the look in his eyes, heightened the sensation of his body against hers, brought her closer to the edge. The world narrowed, their surroundings disappeared, leaving only the two of them. This was desire, raw and more powerful than she thought possible.
“Just do it, Marcus.” There was no pretence left in her, only desire. Bringing a leg up behind his, she signalled her need with a tilt of her hips. “Don’t think so much, just do it.”
“I can’t.” The roughness in his voice startled her, even as the instinctive forward thrust of his hips made her moan. “I want more.”