His Black Pearl Read Online Free PDF Page B

Hallie.”
    She couldn’t. Couldn’t breathe. No air. Just him, just his cock and his fingers, his teeth against her throat. He rolled the hood of her clit between his thumb and index finger -- teasing her, driving her over the edge.
    And into darkness.

 
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Wet and sore in all the right places, Hallie opened her eyes. She was back on the couch in her studio, a heavy blanket covering her from her toes up to her shoulders. She lifted her head long enough to see that the tray was back in the room with her, the carafe replaced and more fresh fruit on ice in the bowl.
    No Aaron.
    Pouting, she rolled onto her side and saw the first rose petal on the floor. Half a foot away was its perfect twin. And then another, all leading a path to the studio door.
    She sat up and looked around for her robe. He had folded and placed it on the arm of the couch and topped it with a note card.
    When you’re ready .
    Smiling, Hallie poured a cup of coffee. She drank it slowly, in between bites of chilled mango and pineapple. From the couch, she eyed the sketch she’d left on the easel the night before.
    If she were in her real studio, she’d be working instead of contemplating another round of pleasure at the skilled hands of Aaron Ioannides. Still, as her mama used to say, “Sister earned herself a day off.”
    Not that her mama would approve of what she was doing on her day off.
    Putting her cup down, she walked naked to the wardrobe that had been brought into the studio. Aaron had filled it with clothes in her size, but in a more daring style than she was used to. There were lightweight stretchy sweaters to cling to her breasts, sexy wool skirts that wrapped around her ample thighs and hips. Leather boots stood tall next to a pair of tortoise-shell t-strap sandals with a four-inch heel.
    Picking a dark crimson sweater and skirt set and matching silk underwear and bra, she headed into the bathroom for a quick shower and a little makeup. Dressed and wearing the tortoise-shell sandals, she followed the rose petals.
    The trail led to the Carracci painting that guarded the entrance to Aaron’s room. She took a tentative breath. “Open.”
    The door obeyed, prompting a grin to break across her face at the thought he had programmed the door to recognize her voice. She stepped into the room, the only illumination coming from a fire burning low and a row of candles along the mantle.
    She looked at the bed -- empty. The door to the dressing room was closed. She opened it. No Aaron.
    Damn. She’d waited too long.
    Turning, she scanned the dresser and nightstands looking for something to write a note on. Nothing. Pouting, she completed her turn to find Aaron leaning against the wall, the flicker of candlelight reflected in his gaze.
    “ Omorfi .” He moved into the room, slow, almost threatening.
    “ Omorfi ? Are you going to translate or do I need to buy a dictionary?” She walked backwards until her knees hit the bed’s massive frame.
    He grinned, feral and seemingly sharp-toothed, as he gripped her shoulders. He slid his leg between hers, pushing her skirt high up on her thighs. “It means, moro mou , I want to eat you.”
    Closing her eyes, Hallie let him ease her onto the bed. The man was off the hook. He only had to look at her and she was wet. She had to get a grip. She put her arms up, slowing him as he came over the foot rail.
    She placed her palms against his chest and lifted her head toward him. “Kiss me.” He dropped his head toward her neck. She caught his chin, guided his face upwards. “On the lips.”
    He lifted a brow, nostrils flaring and his tongue darting out to rest against his top lip. She brought her other hand up, knotting her fingers in his dark curls. She wanted to give him a good shake but then he smiled.
    Damn, that grin was going to be the death of her. “You know what I’m talking about.”
    They’d been intimate twice -- amazingly so. But he’d yet to kiss her on the mouth.
    “