Ultimate Heroes Collection

by Various Authors

Like any complicated project, his marriage was going to need his personal care and attention—for the immediate term at least. But he had no doubt that if he concentrated his mind he would have his new wife eating out of his hand after just a couple of nights.

  Checking his watch, he took the steps down from the terrace and strode over to the part of the villa that he’d had converted into a suite of offices.

  The night was still young and his bride was asleep.

  He might as well make a few calls to New York and see how the deal was progressing—to ensure that when his wife awoke he could devote his full attention to her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHESSIE woke with a pounding headache and a spotlight glaring into her face. ‘Oh, please will someone turn that light off,’ she groaned, rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in the pillow.

  ‘It’s the sun,’ came a cool, male voice from right beside her, and suddenly she was aware that the sheet was somewhere round her ankles. Cool air washed over her skin, and she realised that she was wearing only her underwear.

  With a gasp of embarrassment she grabbed at the sheet and pulled it upwards, but it tangled in her legs, and it took several strong yanks on her part before she finally managed to cover herself to her satisfaction.

  ‘What happened to my clothes?’

  ‘I removed them five seconds after you fell unconscious,’ Rocco drawled in a mocking tone. ‘I have to confess that alcohol makes you a less than stimulating dinner companion. Tonight, remind me to give you water.’

  Still struggling with the disturbing knowledge that he’d undressed her, Chessie sat up, clutching the sheet to her chin. ‘It wasn’t the alcohol. It was just lack of sleep. I was tired.’ She stared at him, her eyes suddenly wide as she watched him remove his tie with a few careless movements of his long fingers. ‘It’s morning. Why are you undressing?’

  ‘Because I haven’t been to bed yet, and I don’t intend to come to bed with you while wearing a suit.’ He dropped the tie over the back of the nearest chair and shrugged off his jacket.

  ‘Come to bed with me …’ She clutched the sheet even tighter. ‘We can’t have sex now. It’s daylight.’

  The careless lift of his broad shoulders indicated that he considered that fact to be entirely irrelevant. ‘I’ve been tied up in meetings all night, otherwise I would have been lying by your side, waiting for you to wake up. I’ve never been wedded to the idea that sex can only take place in darkness.’ He removed his watch and placed it on the nearest table, then slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. ‘Daylight works for me.’

  ‘When it comes to sex, I suppose just about anything works for you,’ she mumbled, horrified at the thought of him making love to her in broad daylight. It was her worst nightmare. Still clutching the sheet against her breasts, Chessie skidded back in the bed so fast that she almost bounced off the headboard. ‘Look, we’re really not doing this.’

  ‘If you’re worried about staying faithful to your lover, then I can assure you that after today you won’t even remember his name,’ Rocco informed her with characteristic confidence as he dropped the shirt and reached for the zip of his trousers.

  Chessie averted her eyes, her cheeks scarlet. She’d never seen a male stripper before, but she was sure that Rocco would be up there with the best. Undressing in front of an audience clearly wasn’t something that disturbed him in the slightest. But if she’d had a body like his, maybe she’d have been equally relaxed about revealing it.

  She was unable to stop herself sneaking another look.

  Dark hairs formed a shadow across his bronzed chest, shading perfect musculature. He was all hard lines and powerful masculinity, and she couldn’t help comparing him with the pictures of Renaissance sculptures she’d seen in books. A Michaelangelo or a Donatello, designed to capture the strength and muscular perfection of the male form. Only Rocco was no god cast in bronze. He was flesh and blood and very much alive.

  As the zip descended she saw that the dark hairs trailed downwards, leading the eye to the significant bulge of masculinity that pressed against his silk boxer shorts.

  Chessie gave a gulp and looked away quickly. This was definitely the point where she was supposed to tell him again that she hadn’t actually slept with Carlo. To pretend to be experienced in bed was just asking for trouble, given her complete lack of knowledge in that direction.

  But to confess to being a virgin would be to admit that no one had ever found her remotely desirable before now, and she just couldn’t bring herself to say that aloud. It was obvious from the fact that he’d invited his mistress to their wedding that he didn’t find her particularly desirable either, and she had no intention of reminding him of her deficiencies.

  Surely she’d be able to pretend that she’d done it all before?

  His boxer shorts slid to the floor and she suddenly found her gaze riveted to her first sight of an aroused male. Her heart flipped and her anxiety levels soared.

  ‘Are you going to let go of that sheet?’ He joined her on the bed and firmly prised the sheet from her lethal grip.

  She spotted the loose black top she’d worn the night before lying on the floor, and wriggled across the bed to make a grab for it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Lean, bronzed hands grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back into the centre of the bed, ignoring her quest for modesty. ‘You’re not going to need that.’

  ‘I was just going to put my top on.’

  ‘What would be the point of that?’ he asked softly, stroking her tangled hair away from her face in a supremely confident gesture. ‘When I’d only have to take it off again?’

  ‘Listen—’ her voice was shaky ‘—it’s time to stop fooling around. I’m not the sort of woman you normally sleep with. We both know that.’ He was probably going to take one look at her and lose his erection, she thought miserably, as she slunk as far under the sheet as she possibly could.

  ‘Stop talking about other women.’ A note of exasperation in his voice, he prised the sheet away from her hands for a second time and pushed it out of reach. ‘I’m with you now, and that’s all that matters.’

  Aware that his gaze had dropped to her breasts, Chessie felt hot, burning colour flood into her cheeks. If intense embarrassment could have shrunk her breasts then her chest would have been flat.

  The silence seemed to extend for ever, and all the fight went out of her while she waited for him to say something derogatory. ‘Stop looking at me. I know I’ve got the wrong sort of body,’ she mumbled finally, trying to wriggle away from him.

  He held her firmly, a strange look in his dark eyes. ‘The wrong sort of body? What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Was he going to make her spell it out? ‘We’ve already established that I don’t look anything like those models you usually date. I’m fat.’

  ‘ Not fat,’ he assured her in husky tones, pushing her gently onto her back and sliding a leisurely hand over the soft curve of her abdomen. ‘You have exactly the right sort of body. It’s perfect.’

  Perfect? Chessie opened her mouth to argue with him, but he chose that precise moment to close his mouth over her right nipple. She gave a soft gasp, her body arching off the bed in an involuntary movement as hot flames of lust shot through her. His tongue flicked and teased, and the sensations intensified to almost unbearable proportions. She gave a low moan, her eyes drifting shut as her whole body was racked by an excitement so powerful that she dug her nails into the smooth skin of his bronzed shoulder.

  ‘We shouldn’t be doing this—’

  ‘We’re married,’ he purred. ‘And we should have done this six months ago.’

  He turned his attention to her other breast, and the insistent throb between her legs became an almost agonising ache. Chessie shifted against the sheets in an attempt to ease the growing tension inside her, but he spread his hand over her shifting pelvis and held her still.

  ‘Rocco—’ in the grip of feelings that she didn’t recognise, sh
e gasped his name, and he gave a low laugh and covered her body with his in a lithe, powerful movement that left no doubt as to who was in control.

  ‘You like that, no?’ He made a rough sound and brought his mouth down on hers, at the same time sliding his hand underneath her and cupping the rounded curve of her bottom. ‘You feel fantastic. I knew from the first moment I saw you that sex with you was going to be incredible.’

  He had? He’d really thought that? She tried to hold onto that thought, but the erotic stroke of his tongue inside her mouth and the touch of his skilful fingers sent her body surging at breakneck speed along a road of sensual discovery.

  Suddenly there was nothing in her world but the physical reaction of her body. Her pelvis throbbed and ached, seeking a deeper satisfaction, and she was dimly aware of the friction of rough, male body hair against sensitive female skin. He was all hard, strong muscle against her soft, rounded curves. Then he shifted slightly and she felt his hand move, felt the slide of his fingers exploring her intimately.

  ‘Oh—’ it was the first time any man had touched her there, but his touch was so sure and confident that her resistance evaporated in an instant. Unfamiliar sensations racked her body, and she cried out in shock, instinctively tried to move her hips, but he anchored her with the weight of his body and continued to kiss her until her world was spinning and indistinct.

  ‘Does that feel good, cara?’ The soft purr of his voice against her ear barely registered against the practised skill of his fingers. ‘Do you like that?’

  ‘It feels amazing and I think I want—I need you to—Rocco—’ She sobbed his name and dug her nails into the smooth, bronzed skin of his shoulder, and he gave a husky laugh that resonated with masculine satisfaction.

  ‘Any time you want me to stop you only have to say so.’

  ‘Stop? No, don’t stop,’ she gasped against his mouth, lifting her hips in a frantic attempt to relieve the almost unbearable building of tension.

  ‘What is it you want, tesoro? This?’

  With single-minded purpose he shifted her position slightly, pushed her thighs apart, and entered her with a decisive masculine thrust.

  The size and power of him stole the breath from her body, and as he slid an arm under her hips and thrust deeper she gave a murmur of protest.

  Instantly he stilled, tension visible in his handsome face as he looked down at her. ‘I’m hurting you?’

  Afraid to move in case it made the pain worse, she lay rigid, staring up at him. ‘What makes you say that?’

  There was a gentle humour in his eyes as he stroked her tangled hair away from her face with a surprisingly light touch. ‘Possibly the fact that your nails are drawing blood from my shoulder?’

  ‘Oh—’ she let her hands fall to her sides. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re crazily mixed up?’ His expression thoughtful, he studied her for a moment, and then his hand slid into her hair and he lowered his head and took her mouth. ‘Kiss me,’ he urged softly against her lips, his voice hoarse with restrained passion. ‘Kiss me, tesoro, and everything will be all right. Trust me.’

  Feeling the rough scrape of male stubble over the sensitive skin of her face, she opened her mouth under the demanding pressure of his and gave a low moan as he took control. His kiss was slow and purposeful, designed to arouse and excite, and she squirmed against him as her insides turned to liquid and drove coherent thought from her head.

  She forgot that there’d ever been pain, because suddenly her body was consumed by pleasure.

  He withdrew slightly and entered her again, and this time all she felt was the most wickedly delicious sensation of fullness and male possession. She felt his hands on her hips, felt him subtly alter her position, then surge inside her with sufficient care and control for her sudden gasp to this time be one of ecstasy. Her whole body was on fire, burning up with a desire that she hadn’t even known existed, and when Rocco lifted her, plunging deeper still into her silken core, she gave a sob of desperation, utterly consumed by the strength and skill of his possession.

  Excitement flowed through her in hot, greedy waves, and she gasped his name and arched into him, moving her hips to the rhythm he’d set.

  Sensations overwhelmed her body—sensations that she didn’t recognize—and she gave a sob of disbelief as she shot into a climax so breathtakingly intense that her world suddenly splintered apart and her body throbbed around the powerful thrust of his. The pulse of her body went on and on, and then she heard his harsh groan and felt the sudden increase in masculine thrust as the strength of her orgasm drove him into his own.

  Eventually the storm eased, and Chessie lay with her eyes closed, feeling the intimate throb of his body joined with hers, shocked and dazed by what had happened to her. She hadn’t known. Even in her wildest dreams she hadn’t been able to imagine that it would be like that. It was so much more than a physical experience. It was an overwhelming connection and a closeness that couldn’t possibly be expressed by words. And the closeness astonished her.

  She was used to being solitary.

  All her life she’d been a private person. Her father had held her at a distance and discouraged friendships. Unbearably lonely, her relationships had been with books, her friends the characters living inside them.

  But this—she felt the warm, sluggish afterglow of incredible sex and gave a faint smile—this was the real thing. No amount of fictional description had prepared her for the overpowering satisfaction that came with real human intimacy. Man-woman intimacy.

  It was only now, with her body trembling under his, that she knew what it was like to truly share. To give all of herself to another person.

  She lay still underneath him, reluctant to move, wanting desperately to prolong the perfection of the moment. Trapped by the weight and power of his body, she listened as his breathing slowed, felt the roughness of his chest brush the smooth silk of her skin as he moved. Suddenly the harshness of real life seemed like a distant place. Held like this, her body warm and throbbing with unfamiliar sensations, she suddenly couldn’t remember why she’d wanted a divorce. She forgot why she’d wanted her freedom so badly. Why would she want anything more than this? What more was there?

  When he eased out of her and rolled onto his back she wanted to hold onto him and beg him never to move, but her tongue wouldn’t form the words. She had no idea how to behave after such a cataclysmic assault on her senses. Had he felt it too? Had it affected him the same way? Unable to resist the temptation to look at him, she turned her head and felt everything inside her dissolve into liquid longing.

  He was indecently handsome.

  Unable to help herself, she let her hungry gaze move over the hard, masculine planes of his profile and linger on the strong lines of his darkened jaw.

  As if sensing her scrutiny, he turned to look at her. ‘Don’t ever let me think that you slept with another man again.’ His voice had a hard edge, and hinted at a boiling cauldron of emotions fiercely suppressed. ‘I could have killed him.’

  Basking in the aftermath of sexual perfection, braced to hear something suitably romantic, Chessie felt the warm, soft feeling evaporate inside her. ‘Wh-what are you talking about?’

  ‘Mancini.’ Rocco lay on his back. He made no attempt to cover himself, totally unselfconscious about his nudity. ‘Either he’s useless as a lover, or you were lying to me about what happened. Until this morning you were a virgin.’

  Her expectations of hearing soft, romantic words well and truly crushed, Chessie felt the colour flood into her cheeks. This wasn’t the conversation they should be having. ‘I tried to tell you the truth—’

  ‘But only after you’d first told me a lie. Just for the record, telling your Sicilian husband that you’re sleeping with another man is a dangerous game, tesoro. Don’t risk it again.’ He rolled onto his side and looked down at her, the fire in his eyes fading to slumberous satisfaction. ‘But I’m pleased you were a virgin. Extremely pleased. In t
he circumstances, I might just forgive you for running away.’

  Forgive her?

  Chessie lay in bemused silence, searching those stormy molten eyes for some hint of gentleness. Something that reflected the deep emotional intensity of their lovemaking. They’d just shared something impossibly intimate. Where were the words of affection that were supposed to follow? ‘Is that all you have to say? Is that all you care about? My virginity?’

  ‘Is that so surprising?’ His satisfied smile was all male, and he slid a bronzed hand over the curve of her hip in a sensual gesture. ‘You’re my wife, and I’ve never been any good at sharing. I was trying to be relaxed about it, but I have to confess that it was an uphill struggle.’

  Her body responded instantly to his touch and she felt a warm, heavy feeling spread across her pelvis. ‘You’re unbearably possessive.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He moved his hand, sprang out of bed, and prowled towards the bathroom, gloriously naked and totally indifferent to the fact. ‘Best remember that before you accept any more lifts from strangers.’

  She lay still for a moment, thrown by the fact that he’d taken her criticism as a compliment, trying to ignore the dangerous throb in her body. Then disappointment rose inside her, swamping her fledgling happiness.

  This was her first sexual experience and he knew it. And had he said one single romantic thing to her? Had he uttered one gentle word? No. It was obvious that the entire episode just been about his need to make her his. So much for closeness and intimacy. And so much for her ego. He probably hadn’t even noticed her body. For him it had been about nothing more than possession.

  Unbelievably crushed, Chessie lay still.

  Then she felt determination grow inside her—a determination that had been nurtured by her six months away from her father. No man was going to treat her badly again.

  She slid off the bed and made a grab for his discarded shirt. Her hands shaking, she pushed her arms into the sleeves and gathered it around her. Then she followed him into the bathroom, walking through the door just in time to see him hit a button on the wall that sent jets of water pouring onto the tiled floor.