Another slide and the friction made her breath stop. Stunned, she stared into Christo’s eyes and couldn’t look away. Surely they should be in bed, lying down before...?
‘We can’t.’ Her words faded as his thumb pressed that sensitive nub and she trembled all over.
‘Believe me, sweetheart, we can. We can do whatever you like.’ His words would have reassured Emma, except she read excitement in his dark eyes and determination in the angle of his jaw and knew he was as aroused as she. ‘Hang on to me.’
He took his hand from her breast and lifted her fingers from his erection to his shoulder. Instinctively she held tight there. Just as well, because her knees threatened to buckle as he returned to caressing her breast, his other hand working between her legs.
Now she moved with every slide of his hand, finding the rhythm and forgetting her inhibitions. This felt so good, so perfect, she...
‘Christo!’ It was a desperate shout, half-muffled by the wave of ecstasy enveloping her.
She had half a second to see him smile, then he bent his head to hers. His kiss was lavish, demanding yet reassuring, connecting them even as she shattered, her soul shooting towards the heavens as her body shuddered and almost collapsed.
Christo took her weight, drawing her against him and hugging her tight. His warmth enveloped her and soft words rained down, soothing her gradual descent from that acute peak of pleasure.
Finally the shudders became random trembles and the burning white light dissipated as she clung to him, limp with satiation. Dimly Emma wondered that she felt no embarrassment at climaxing in front of him. She’d imagined finding release with Christo in bed with the lights off, not flaunting her pleasure before him. But it had felt perfect.
‘Thank you. That was...’
Emma couldn’t find the right words so gave up. Instead she smiled against his muscled chest and let herself sag in his arms, knowing he had her.
His erection hard against her belly reminded her that Christo hadn’t found satisfaction. She wanted him to enjoy what she had and slid her hand between them.
‘Not yet, glyka mou. Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.’ He stepped clear of his clothes, then scooped her up in his arms.
Emma’s eyes snapped open and she fell into his slate-blue gaze. Was that satisfaction she saw? Or anticipation?
As he laid her on the bed a shiver shot through her at the prospect of what lay ahead. Still languid from that intense orgasm, she felt a scurry of nerves as Christo opened a nearby drawer then rolled on a condom.
‘I haven’t done this before.’ The words jerked out of her and she licked her lips, torn between fascination, eagerness and just a touch of apprehension.
He paused, kneeling on the bed, arms braced beside her. Something flared in his eyes, something she couldn’t decipher. ‘But you want to?’
It was the second time he’d asked. It struck her that, far from being the domineering, macho bully she’d pegged him for when he’d made that demand about her living as his wife, Christo was careful with her. The tension riding his bunched shoulders and clenched jaw was obvious, but he held back. Did he feel the urgency she’d felt just minutes ago? Her mind boggled at his control.
Emma lifted her hand towards him and nodded. ‘Show me how to make it good for you.’
* * *
Zeus preserve him. How to make it good for him!
Christo grimaced. ‘It’s already far too good.’ He’d been so close to the brink that, even when he’d removed her hand, he’d almost come just watching and feeling her climax. And when she’d snuggled into him like a living blanket...
‘But it could be better.’ Her eyes were enormous but he read that obstinate mouth and felt his own curve.
‘Oh, definitely.’ He moved to straddle her legs, getting high just from the sight of her lithe, beautiful body laid out for his enjoyment.
Christo wanted Emma badly. He needed to possess her, fill her and claim her as his own. The urge to spread her legs and take her was so strong. But she was a virgin. He had no experience of virgins but he knew he needed to make this as easy for her as possible.
Instead of pushing her legs apart, he bent and pressed a light kiss to her hip bone. She jolted, as if still wired from her orgasm. The scent of feminine arousal wafted to him and he smiled. He’d give her a first time she’d never forget.
With that silent vow, Christo set about learning her body.
Emma protested. In between her sighs and gasps as he found a particularly sensitive spot to kiss or lick or stroke. He discovered a place at her ankle that undid her. A spot near the small of her back. Her inner elbow where he’d driven her to the edge that night on Corfu. And the more obvious places. Her breasts that filled his palms so sweetly. The sweep from neck to shoulder. And her inner thighs. By the time he’d finished she was trembling with need and he felt as if he’d been forged from pure, burning steel.
When he nudged his knee between her legs they fell open instantly and elation surged. He’d waited so long. He braced himself on one arm and, sliding his other hand beneath her, tilted her.
Blazing eyes met his. ‘Finally!’
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.’ His mouth rucked up at one side at the memory of exactly how much Emma had enjoyed his caresses. Her skin was flushed and there was a dreamy look in her eyes that contradicted her attempt at brusqueness.
‘It was wonderful.’ She sighed. ‘But I want you.’
Strange how her words reverberated within him. How long had he wanted to hear that? Emma wanting him, not running or fighting him.
Her fingers curled around him and his breath hissed. He’d done his best to prepare her but, at her touch, he could hold back no longer.
Christo leaned in, letting her guide him till he was positioned at her slick entrance. She gave a little wriggle at the contact and he rolled his eyes. He was never going to last; that was a given.
‘Lift your knees.’ His voice was as rough as gravel, but she understood, and he felt her legs lift to cradle his hips. He pressed into the most exquisite, firm heat. His breath stalled and he had to fight not to pump hard. Instead he kept his eyes on Emma and saw her brow wrinkle, as if in confusion.
‘Okay?’
She blinked up at him but he saw no sign of pain. ‘Odd but okay.’
‘Odd?’ He shook his head as he allowed himself to slip a little further. The sensations were overwhelming now. The feel of Emma taking him was so good Christo shook with the effort of restraint.
A soft hand touched his face. ‘Are you all right?’
Christo grimaced. ‘That’s my line.’ Clearly he wasn’t doing this right if Emma felt nothing but concern for him.
Lifting one hand, he cupped her breast then bent to lower his head and suck at her nipple.
‘Ah!’ She lifted off the bed, drawing him further into that enticing heat. Fingernails dug into his shoulders as he caressed her and inexorably drove home.
Christo lifted his head and read Emma’s glazed eyes. No pain there, no fear, just the same wonder he felt as he withdrew and forged home again.
With slow deliberation, Christo set a pace that had her rocking against him. Then, as she licked her lips and said his name, he reached his limit. Christo felt the bunch of tightening muscles in his arms, legs and backside. His rhythm changed, became urgent and inescapable, and the tingling began, racing down his spine and round to his groin.
There was just time to recognise the convulsive clasp of Emma’s tight muscles around him when rapture slammed into him, a rolling tidal wave that went on and on. She curled up, her climaxing body jerking and trembling in unison with his.
Blindly he dropped to one elbow, protectively scooping her close as together they plunged off the edge into oblivion.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EMMA WOKE TO a sense of luxury and warmth. She lay, savouring the feeling of wellbeing. Opening her eyes, she discovered it was early morning, pale, rosy light spilling through the open win
dow.
She was in Christo’s bed.
Unreadable eyes watched her and she discovered that luscious sense of comfort came from the fact she was cuddled against him, lying on her side with one knee hooked over his hip and his arms around her.
‘How are you?’ His words caressed her mouth and, strangely, that seemed almost as intimate as the way their lower bodies were aligned, his powerful erection a reminder of what they’d shared last night.
Her face flushed. Even her ears tingled. What they’d shared went beyond everything she’d imagined.
‘Fantastic.’
His mouth crooked at one corner. ‘You are that.’ Then dark eyebrows angled down. ‘Not hurting at all?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Emma shifted slightly, registering a slight heaviness between her legs, more an awareness than anything.
It wasn’t any change in her body that concerned her. It was the consequence of sharing Christo’s bed.
She couldn’t pretend any more that he was a despicable monster. Yet was sex any solution to their convoluted relationship?
‘So you got your wedding night after all. Just as you specified in the contract.’ What made her say it, Emma didn’t know. Except belatedly she realised she didn’t have a clue where they went from here.
That hint of a smile vanished in an instant.
Christo’s muscles stiffened around her. ‘You’re saying last night was about the contract? Giving yourself for a piece of property?’ The abrupt change in him was shocking, his tone scathing.
‘It was you who insisted I owed you a night in your bed!’ Emma pushed against that solid chest and reared back, but he kept her where she was. Close enough to read, for a second, what seemed like disappointment in those smoky eyes.
She stilled, intrigued, telling herself it couldn’t be. Christo wore that look again, the steely one that spoke of severe disapproval. His mouth was tight and the pulse at his temple drummed too fast. Yet still there was something in his eyes...
‘Why did you sleep with me, then?’ she challenged, her throat tight. ‘Because I owed you? Was I some trophy? Was last night payback for me leaving you?’
‘You think I collected a debt for pride’s sake?’ Christo’s nostrils flared. ‘I slept with you because you drive me crazy with wanting.’ The words carried the lash of accusation. As if he held her responsible. ‘Because there’s a connection between us. You felt it too. Don’t tell me you didn’t.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘Last night was about you and me, nothing else.’
Emma’s breath jammed in her lungs. She couldn’t doubt his sincerity, not when she was so close she read every change in his body.
‘Why did you come to my bed, Emma?’ The look in his eyes told her the answer was important to him.
She didn’t want to reply but what was the point in trying to hide the truth?
‘I couldn’t fight myself any more,’ she finally admitted. ‘You’re right. There is a connection.’ It was growing stronger all the time. Emma tried to tell herself it was just sex but it was more complicated than that.
‘You want to be with me.’ He pulled her closer and she let him, because this was where she wanted to be, even if she had no idea where it would lead.
‘I do.’ She sighed. Once that would have been an admission of defeat. Now it was the simple truth. She was tired of hiding from it.
‘And I want to be with you.’ He nudged her chin up and she read his sincerity.
Excitement pulsed through her. Whether this was a mistake or not, at least in this they were equals. Emma couldn’t find it in herself to turn away from him again.
She shrugged, feeling a little foolish. ‘I only mentioned the contract because I’m a bit out of my depth.’
At her words he lifted his hand to stroke her hair back from her face. The gesture was so tender, almost loving. Emma felt a pang of regret that this could never be love. But she was an adult. She’d accept reality. Take the pleasure they both wanted and move on when it ended.
‘I’m sorry. I overreacted.’ Christo’s mouth compressed to a crooked line. ‘It’s my own fault for spelling it out on paper. That was hurt pride.’ Emma blinked at the admission and the apology. More and more, the Christo Karides she’d despised was transforming into a man she liked.
Emma nestled against that solid chest, inhaling his rich, salty male scent. After just one night she feared she was addicted to his body. His hugs banished the loneliness she’d felt since Papou’s death. But it wasn’t only that. In Christo’s arms she felt wanted, cherished.
‘It’s a hot button of mine,’ he continued. ‘Women who trade their bodies for gain.’
‘I suppose you’ve met a few, being rich.’ And handsome.
‘Enough.’ Then, to her surprise, he went on. ‘My mother was like that. She married my father for his money.’
Emma pulled back, searching Christo’s face. Behind the scowl she was sure she saw hurt. It made her insides twist.
‘Are you sure? Maybe she just—’
‘No mistake.’ Slate-blue eyes held hers. ‘My father was good-looking and successful but he didn’t have a loving nature.’ Again that quirk of Christo’s lips that looked more like pain than amusement. ‘He had an eye for stunning women and my mother was a beauty queen. They married because she got pregnant with me.’ Christo shook his head. ‘He was a hard man, but honourable and faithful, whereas her main interest was spending. She admitted she’d never wanted me. Pregnancy was just her way to secure her future.’
‘That’s appalling! How could any mother say that to her child?’ The thought sickened Emma.
Christo shrugged. ‘She was furious at the time. She blamed me for my father finding out she’d cheated on him.’ At Emma’s questioning look, he added, ‘I walked in on her with her lover and didn’t react well. My father eventually heard about the fuss, I assume from the staff.’
Emma tried to imagine what it would be like, discovering your parent with a lover. She wondered what Christo meant by her not reacting well but, given the stark line of his clamped jaw, thought it best not to ask.
‘So she spoke in the heat of the moment.’ Emma didn’t like the sound of Christo’s mother but she hated seeing the lines of pain bracketing his mouth when he spoke of her.
‘You’re trying to excuse her? Don’t bother. She never spoke to me after that. I haven’t seen her since. She’s living in Brazil now, married to a mining magnate, probably pretending she doesn’t have an adult son.’
Emma digested that in silence. With a mother like that, and a father he’d described as hard, Christo began to make more sense. He was an only child and love had clearly been in short supply in his family. She wondered with a pang if he’d ever had tenderness from his father. Or anything approaching a happy family life.
Was it surprising he’d held back from Anthea, admitting he didn’t have the skills to care for a child? There was even a lop-sided logic to his plan to acquire a convenient bride to fill that role, if he had no experience of a loving family.
What mattered, she realised, was that he hadn’t shirked his responsibility. He was determined to make a good home for Anthea. She couldn’t fault him for that.
Honourable, he’d called his father. Surely Christo had inherited that trait, or at least a strong sense of responsibility?
Emma surveyed him under her lashes. He could be a hard man. Look at the way he’d set about acquiring a wife. But there was more to him. Christo felt deeply. That was clear from everything she saw in his face and from the tightly contained voice as he’d relayed that horrible story about his mother. Obviously he held back a dam of painful emotions.
He didn’t just feel responsible for his niece, either. He cared for her, even if he was just learning how to express it. That was why the sight of them bonding had fascinated Emma. It was as if he got as much out of being with Anthea as she did.
Plus, he cared for Emma. Last night at the reception he’d smoothed her way, ensuring she was at ease. His smil
es and laughter had been genuine. She’d liked him as well as desired him. Then there was the way he’d taken time to ensure her first experience of sex was spectacular. Emma knew that wasn’t always the case. Christo had put her needs above his own.
Perhaps the man she’d fallen for in Australia hadn’t been a total mirage. Christo Karides was more complex than she’d credited.
‘What are you thinking about?’
His words drew her attention back to his face. Their eyes meshed and heat simmered beneath her skin. How could he do that with just a look?
She shifted, the movement making her breathtakingly aware that she was still wrapped in his arms, naked, her lower body coming up against Christo’s erection.
She saw his pulse throb at the contact. The simmer became a scorching blaze, running like wildfire along her veins and over her skin.
‘I was thinking you’re not the man I imagined you were.’
‘Really?’ His eyebrows rose, his body tensing.
‘There’s more to you than I thought,’ Emma admitted. ‘More to like.’
Christo’s features eased and the corner of his mouth curled up. ‘You certainly seemed to like me well enough last night,’ he murmured in a drawl that dragged through her body like fingers ruffling velvet. She felt a tremor ripple through her belly.
One large hand traced an arabesque along her spine, slowing as it drew low towards her buttocks. Emma’s breath stilled as her body thrummed into needy awareness.
‘I did, didn’t I?’ Her voice was husky.
‘And I like you.’
Emma swallowed hard. The words weren’t fancy. Yet the way he said them, teamed with the way he looked at her, made them sound like something profound. Something significant.
For a second anxiety gripped her. She’d vowed not to fall for romantic fantasy again. Except this was no extravagant, gilded compliment designed to turn her head. This was plain and unvarnished...and she believed him.
There was tenderness in his touch and in his expression, as well as a good dollop of anticipation. An anticipation she shared.
Modern Romance May 2019: Books 5-8 Page 29