Golden Shana : The Capture
After he meets Shana, Roman has separated from both Marie and his short affair with Alyssa that served no other purpose but to lead him to Shana. But he still has a long way to go before winning Shana. When she finally decides to let Roman come closer, the fates work against them – Alyssa slits her wrists in Shana’s bathroom…
When Roman and Shana finally have sex, Roman’s dark side comes to light and frightens Shana so much she takes flight. Because Roman makes her discover her own dark side, the side of her that thoroughly enjoys kinky sex, but which she doesn’t want to acknowledge.
On top of that but still unknown to all involved, the mystery man after Shana remains on the prowl for revenge on any man who shows an interest in Shana. He’s getting closer to his goal. And he’s the man who hurt Shana years ago and was believed long dead. Will Roman succeed in winning Shana back before the stalker kills him or Shana?
It was nearly quarter to eleven and they were both curled up in a single armchair by the crackling fire with snifters of cognac.
“Yes. Of both of us. Somewhere more comfortable, you said?”
She had discarded the towel around her head. Her hair was now dry and snapped back to their natural curls.
“A girl after my heart. Here on the couch or upstairs?” He tested the waters.
She knew that. This wonderful masculine-to-hell man still did his best not to put a foot wrong, despite the fire she could see roaring in his eyes.
He still let her do the rowing.
Shana set her snifter on the floor, uncurled from his lap and skipped up the stairs leading to the bedroom.
“To the chase, predator!”
“Wait till I sink my fangs in you!”
She looked over her shoulder and saw him, not running or skipping, but bent over and taking the stairs in slow precise feline moves, muscles rippling, a stalking predator.
In the bedroom, they locked eyes, chests heaving. Their eyes started making love while they simply stood there, close, and breathed each other in.
How wrong she’d been about him. Seeing him through Alyssa’s interpretations and experiences with him. Roman and Alyssa would never work. She’d felt that all along but given her thoughts the benefit of doubt – for Alyssa’s sake. But now she wanted him, craved abandoned sex with him, instead of the talk they’d come here for.
Well, their feelings did the talking, right?
He was so beautiful. She could spend an hour just looking into those intense blue eyes, touching the lithe muscular frame, grabbing the collar-length hair, kissing that smile that hitched up one corner of his mouth. Feeding her eyes on the planes of his clear-cut features, licking that sweet gap between his upper front teeth. Making love to him was pure magic. Magic that verged on insanity. Yes, she found him… special.
She had connected to him back in Stjärnblomma. Or was it that night outside La Scala? In the limousine as he dropped his mobile on her lap? As Lars picked it up and threw it out the window of the car and they roared with laughter about the mad stalker in the making? Not really. At least not consciously.
She’d still kept her wall up then.
The sparks started flying when he’d boldly lifted her off the staircase and spun her around and reminded her of when she was a little girl and Pappa would be there, big as a mountain and stronger than the whole world, saying, Come on, come on, I’ll catch you! and she flew down the stairs into his arms to be swirled around by him, safe and flooded with joy. Once again, Pappa! And she would skip up the stairs and come flying down them again into his outstretched arms. Once again, Pappa…
She now felt that her happiness, as a woman, ever since Edward demolished that womanhood, was dependent on knowing Roman better.
Whatever she’d said when Roman put her back on her feet that fateful afternoon in Stjärnblomma, said to him and Alyssa about sorting things out, had been a mask born of her breeding. Bad form was not a Lindqvist thing. Absolutely taboo, despite Pappa’s worldwide reputation for being a cut and chiselled rogue. But something deep inside her, something she had yet to define, had drawn her to Roman even as she fled upstairs that afternoon to control her puzzling emotions.
And when he then kissed her and told her: One just did with no more than…
She now felt that powerful draw again, deep inside her, without being able to put a name to it. Transgressions, just like Alyssa’s obsession with the man?
“Kiss me, my Roman.” She stepped forward, placed her palms on her cheeks, and pulled his head to her face.
He looked at her as if to say: I thought you’d never ask, lost in your own thoughts. “My prey?”
“Whatever and however you want it, Castell. Just kiss me.”
His mouth claimed hers. She shivered and moaned. She desired him.
She craved him deep inside, burned to offer him all of her womanhood. At once. Before she panicked and took to flight.
He groaned deep and low from his chest. The sound made her core tug at her. She didn't let any thoughts into her mind about what he would do next. All she cared about this very moment was to savour his taste in her mouth again. Savour the thought of his glorious penis invading the most secret parts of her. The taste of every bit of him.
He gripped her head in his palms, and shot his tongue to the roof of her mouth.
It was just as hot and sweet as she remembered from their crazy shower antics. She was pooling. Her core was catching at her. Clenching in rhythms.
“Your lips are like smooth cherries, my Shana.”
His soft low voice was both hoarse and tender. Their eyes linked in their chains. She could almost feel the thrill of satisfaction that coursed through him while he watched his catch surrendering, dying in weak perpetual spasms.
Her nipples, pressed against the naked marble of his chest, swelled with tingling sparks and went stiff and hard. She felt her breasts fill with blood and get larger, throbbing.
She opened her mouth to accept his tongue again.
He pressed it once more against the roof of her mouth, seemed to devour the soft wetness, and skimmed the insides of her cheeks and back out to her lips. His hands held her head like a vice, as if he'd never let it go.
She told him without words: I’d never want you to let me go either. I’d never want you to go, my Roman.
He heard her, she was sure of that. Before, his cock was hard in his pyjama bottoms, but now it was steely, pushing into her silk-clad belly. She smelt his maleness, fierce and ready for conquest. It sent bolts of desire through her body. She wanted him to fuse himself to her, suckle her nipples until they swelled to bursting point. He parted her kimono and slid his fingers into the hot cleft between her legs, and nearly brought her to that endless orgasm again.
“Oh God, Shana.” He didn’t break their gaze. “Even our locked eyes do it.”
Her voice quaked and rasped. “Our every cell does it, Roman.”
He picked her up and carried her to bed, gently put her on it, bent over her and bit her lower lip tenderly. His mouth left hers, but only by a breath.
Then he told her where he’d like to kiss her next. “Oh, Roman.” A whisper.
He stretched on the bed next to her. Parted her kimono and picked gently on her pelt like someone pulling on blades of grass absent-mindedly, while his eyes remained locked with hers. She was so wet, her kimono might have tell-tale patches where her arse rested on it.
The thought made her hotter.
She kissed him until she was breathless. Oh God, how will it feel to have him kiss her chatte? She sort of knew how he kissed there. Well, knew about how he did it. Had experienced how he kissed chatte. But through Alyssa. The thought of him doing it to her in person…
Don’t bring Alyssa here between us, for God’s sake.
“I want this nice and slow, my Shana. The way you love it, the way you did it to us in the shower.”
He already knew her well. Too well. How come? They hadn’t made love yet. Well, not in the conventional sense. But we seem able to read each other’s minds.
“Roman,” she whispered against his lips.
She claimed his mouth with hers again.
Suddenly, their phones buzzed simultaneously on the dressing table where they’d placed them. Their teeth knocked, grazed as they jerked.
The spell instantly broke.
Shana let out a yelp. Roman swore under his breath. They eyed the phones.
On arrival in Sylt, they’d agreed to time their smartphones to be off for exactly six hours. Quarter of a day. They were both ferocious business beasts with concerns around the globe. They were the doctors of their corporate worlds. The patients yell and push the button, they respond unconditionally.
But it could also be family.
A quarter of a day was gone.
They stared at each other for a moment before he let her go.
"Great bloody timing."
They unfurled from each other. Shana held her kimono to her with one hand.
“Said it, my Roman.”
He went, “Fuck!” at the next ring.
He looked at her as if to ask: Want to ignore it?
She saw the bulge of his erection and imagined it complaining, and then going on strike, shaking angry fists in its confines and gnashing its teeth. Demanding the executive chair and corresponding pay. Frenetic.
Like her sex was.
But she knew that their patients came first in their world. As did family.
She picked her phone up and he did his. Switched them on again.
“Okay. How many?” Roman asked in a tight voice, checking his own phone. “Voicemails, texts, the lot. In total.”
“Seventeen. Mostly Mum... and Barbs – my right hand lady at the office...”
Then she saw him crease his brows, studying his screen. Anger? Surprise?
“Lucky you. Twenty-seven. And which one is puzzling you in yours?”
“A text from Marie. My companion at the La Scala, remember?”
She lifted her shoulders, “Vaguely. Any problems, Roman?” No, please God.
“I don’t think so. All it says is, Have a satisfying weekend. Nothing unusual.”
Thank God. But… “So why look so puzzled, Roman?”
He looked at her. “I ended our relationship. She’s never tried to contact me.”
She nodded. “We. Are. Not. Reachable. Agreed?”
She punched off her mobile and put it back on the dresser. Then started to untie the belt of her kimono.
He was about to do the same with his pyjama bottoms, still holding his phone. His brows creased again.
“Fuck!” he hissed once more.
His penis was now on a full tent-pitched strike with placards and all, she saw, demanding higher wages for the executive chair.
But she ignored that, because he looked concerned. Oh, please no...
“What is it, Roman?” She shrugged the kimono back on, unbelted.
He gave her his phone.
“A message from Alyssa?” Her turn to be puzzled.
She read the text: DON’T THINK I’LL MAKE IT EASY 4 U BOTH OF U
“I bet you have one or two as well, Shana.”
The Fates against them tonight, or bloody what? She picked up her phone again, turned it on and swiped her thumb through it, looking for anything new from Alyssa that she hadn’t seen and deleted. Nothing.
Then she found her. But in a message from Hans-Joachim.
“Jesus Christ,” she told the ceiling, eyes closed, her body twisting about.
Roman yanked the phone off her hand and read the text: SORRY 4INTERRUPT. FRAU LENZ AT UNIVERSITÄTSKLINIKUM HAMBURG-EPPENDORF PLS CALL ME BACK SOONEST BOSS.
For the third time Roman screamed, “Fuck!” Also to the ceiling.
The vision of him blurred. Her knees gave out... and Roman caught her before she hit the floor. He held her in his arms. Like a slumbering child.
She blinked at him. “Oh. I’m all right. Just went dizzy and my knees—”
“No, you’re not all right.” He put her back on the bed and propped her with pillows. “Alyssa’s proving to be a serious plague. The biggest mistake of my life.”
Shana heard the fury in his voice. His fists clenched, his breath came out quick and heavy. He had a venomous look on his face that clutched at her.
She placed a hand on his arm. “Roman. She’s in serious trouble. Because of us. She needs me. She needs me immediately.”
His look on her said: The fuck she does.
“She’s being bloody manipulative, Shana. She’s using you. Using your friendship and whatever bonds you share.”
“Please give me the phone back. Got to call Hajo.”
He handed her the phone. “Hit speaker.” He breathed like a draught horse.
“This involves me as well, Shana, forgotten?”
Shana speed-dialled and hit speaker. Her pulse picked up pace.
Bound to Tradition: The Dream
Bound to Tradition: The Initiation
Bound to Tradition: The Separation
Secret Shades Aroused
Secret Shades Revealed
Golden Shana: The Chase
Golden Shana: The Capture
Golden Shana: The Chase & The Capture (two books in one, ca. 600+ pages)