by Lucy Monroe
“Stop,” he instructed.
“Stop what?” she asked.
“Whatever you are thinking. Just stop thinking it.”
A small laugh huffed out of her. He was so arrogant, thinking he could dictate even her thoughts, but in this instance? He had a point.
“I want you.” She would always want him.
“I am so hungry for you I’m not going to get your dress off if we don’t get that zip down now,” he told her, his voice a near growl.
Shivers of desire and atavistic need skated along her every nerve ending.
Polly shifted so he could reach the zipper. Finally.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think his hand trembled against her as he tugged the zip down, but there was no mistaking the sucking in of air as he exposed her back. “I would love to take time to appreciate the beauty of this sexy bit of lace holding your gorgeous breasts in, but it will have to be another time.”
He undid the clasp and pulled the fabric aside before placing a kiss on her spine. But it was the kiss on her nape, the one she’d been waiting for that made her shudder with need.
“You are so perfect for me. So responsive.”
“Yes.” The one thing they’d always gotten right was their perfect physical response to one another.
He brushed her dress down her body, letting it pool at her hips as he slid his hands back up her torso to cup her breasts. Polly was so sensitive that she moaned at the contact. Alexandros brushed his thumbs over her turgid nipples and the sound that came out of her was far more animalistic.
“Yes, play with them, Andros!” she demanded.
“Like this?” he asked, pinching her nipples with just the right amount of pressure.
Each press of thumb to forefinger matched a pulse of pleasure in her most intimate place.
“So good!” She loved touching him, but sometimes she enjoyed him playing her body like the sexual virtuoso he was to her.
Alexandros began tugging her nipples and rolling them in between the simple moments of pressure, and pleasure built in Polly as if he was caressing her clitoris. “I’m going to come like this,” she warned him, unable to believe she was so on edge.
Polly pressed her thighs together, sending sparks of ecstasy through her core, but it wasn’t enough.
“Andros, please!” She wanted. She needed. She was in an agony of pleasure not quite fulfilled.
“Then, come for me, yineka mou. Show me what my touch to your body does,” he coaxed against her ear, hot air sending more chills of pleasure along her body.
“I…” She moaned. Words were too hard.
He pinched just a little harder on her nipples, his hard sex pressing against her back, his need clear, but he made no move to stop doing what he was doing.
“Inside!” She shifted her pelvis, seeking more touch between them. “I want you inside.”
“I thought you wanted it like this,” he said gutturally.
“Inside!” she demanded again.
He didn’t make her beg, but lifted her so her dress could fall to the floor. Her and Alexandros’s fingers tangled in the attempt to get rid of her panties, but neither laughed.
He grunted, she mewled with need and the lingerie was on the floor with her dress.
Then he lifted her, and she spread her legs, knowing what he wanted. Alexandros lowered her until his leaking sex kissed her tender flesh. She pushed down so his head pressed inside.
He let her take him at her own pace, though his body was rigid with the effort.
Finally he was in, filling her intimately as no other man ever would do, as no other woman would ever feel him. They rocked together, chasing pleasure, seeking that ultimate moment of completion.
Usually in this position, he reached around to touch that special bundle of nerves, but he continued his ministrations to her breasts and nipples. And that was all she needed.
Overwhelming pleasure spiraled inside her, built even more quickly by how his hardness caressed her G-spot.
“That’s right, agape mou. Move on me like I am all that you need.”
“You are,” she gasped out, her breath coming in harsh pants.
“And you are all that I need.”
The words sent her careening into the ultimate pleasure, her body convulsing around his, a shout of intimate joy coming out of her. He pressed his mouth into her neck, his movements growing jerky, and then he let out a guttural groan against her neck, his own climax making that big body under hers go rigid.
Afterward he carried her into the shower, a decadent tile enclosure easily big enough for the two of them. They washed each other, their knowledge of the other’s body not making the exercise any less special or enticing.
When he lifted her and carried her dripping wet to the bed to make love again, she could only ask him to hurry.
This time, he took his time, building the pleasure between them until they were both sweaty and shaking with need. When they finally went over, she thought she’d sleep on the damp sheets and not care, she was so wrung out from pleasure.
But Alexandros ran her a bath and then joined her after calling housekeeping to come change the sheets while they were in the bath.
“Nice to be a billionaire,” she slurred sleepily, lying against him in the softly scented water.
“Even nicer to be your husband.” His tone was intense, like he wasn’t joking.
She was too tired to figure out whatever message he was trying to give. “I’m not changing the sheets.” She yawned. “Be lucky if I make it back to the bed.”
“Do not worry, yineka mou, I will take care of you.”
She patted his chest. “Nice husband.”
Dozy, she didn’t catch what he said.
They soaked for a while before he lifted her lax body from the water. Alexandros helped her dry before drying himself and then carrying her to the freshly made bed.
The following days were idyllic. Like she’d always dreamed her marriage would be.
Alexandros was back in the penthouse every evening by six. They ate dinner early together as a family before he helped her put Helena to bed. He usually spent an hour or so on the computer in the evenings, but Polly understood his multibillion-dollar company demanded more than a nine-to-five effort from its head. They didn’t watch movies on the sofa together, but Polly usually ended up sitting, leaning against him as she read or worked on recipe ideas in her notebook.
Alexandros had joined Polly and Helena for lunch twice, which she’d loved and so had their daughter. Polly and Alexandros had curtailed their social obligations in ways she’d never believed he would be open to.
They had only attended three high society functions, and Polly was thriving under the less demanding schedule.
She felt better than she had since getting pregnant. No longer exhausted, she reveled in the time she had to spend with her daughter, exploring the child-friendly parks and attractions of the ancient city.
Polly loved it all, but there was a little place in her heart that didn’t trust this new lifestyle to last.
That same place made her put off any concrete actions looking for a house in Athens. She kept looking at videos the estate agent sent her and passing on likely candidates to Alexandros, but Polly avoided in-depth discussions about the potential properties, and while she’d gone to visit a couple, she had not asked Alexandros to join her.
She could not help wondering if they lived somewhere not quite as convenient for her husband as an elevator ride away, would she and their daughter see him nearly as much?
They had been in Athens two weeks when Alexandros brought the house hunt up as they relaxed together in the living room after putting Helena to bed together. He was on his computer, and she was continuing to catch up on her reading list, their silence companionable.
So she was startl
ed when he asked, “Are you really finding it that difficult to find a house that will meet our needs here in Athens?”
She laid her books aside and stared at him, trying to assemble her thoughts without sounding like the untrusting wife she was. “Um, no, of course not.”
“I thought you’d love that house in Palaio Psychico.” He mentioned one of the properties she’d gone to view in person.
A gorgeous, newly built house with a pool that was half indoor and half outdoor, a play area already prepared for children with a climbing structure with slides and swing. The architect had designed rooms and a layout that felt comfortable. It was the best candidate so far for something Polly would consider a family home, not just a showplace.
“Your sister would have kittens if you bought me a house in the most exclusive neighborhood of Athens.” Which was not an answer.
His expression said he recognized her misdirection for what it was. “Since when do you care what my sister thinks?”
“You don’t like upsetting her. Or your mother,” she reminded him, in case he’d forgotten.
Life had gotten very strange in past weeks.
“In case you have not noticed, I have learned my lesson in that regard.”
“I, yes, I’m sure. Lesson? Why are we talking about your family?” Only she knew why. She’d brought them up.
Would Polly ever learn her lesson in this regard?
Alexandros set his computer aside and shifted Polly from her comfy spot beside him to his lap. Feelings that had nothing to do with house hunting sparked through her.
“You are babbling, yineka mou. Why is that, I wonder?”
She shrugged, much more interested in the feel of his hard thighs under her bottom than their current discussion.
He laughed. “Hold that thought and answer my question.”
“What question?” she asked, her thought train derailing on a tide of lust.
He cursed. “You are too delectable, but we are not ignoring our relationship for sex this time.”
“Isn’t sex part of our relationship?” she asked as she shifted and sighed with the decadent pleasure of his nearness.
He kissed her like he couldn’t help himself, the passion between them building fast. She was working on the buttons of his shirt, wanting skin, when his hand stilled hers.
“Stop,” he ordered gutturally. “I mean it, Polly.”
She smiled at his use of her name and not the despised Anna. “I don’t want to stop.”
“We’ll make love.”
“Of course we will.” It was the one part of their marriage they got right.
She didn’t realize she’d said those words aloud until he lifted her from his lap and placed her back on the sofa. “And maybe that is part of the problem, agape mou.”
She frowned, still not always comfortable with his use of that particular endearment and more than a little unhappy about the physical distance between them he had created. She would feel rejected, but the bulge in his slacks proved he was as turned on as she was.
Only he wanted to talk.
And Polly? Really didn’t. Talking wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
But the stubborn expression on his face said Alexandros wasn’t letting this go.
Feeling vulnerable in a way she hadn’t in a very long time with him, Polly crossed her arms over her chest and settled back against the sofa, doing her very best to give the impression of a woman who could take or leave lovemaking. “I would say it’s a very good thing.”
After all, if they weren’t so good at the intimacy part of their marriage, she wasn’t entirely sure their marriage would have survived the first year. That didn’t make her feel proud, but it was a truth she could not ignore.
“It is a wonderful thing,” he assured her.
“And yet you are over there.” She indicated the other end of the sofa with a wave of her hand. “And I am here.”
“Do not pout. This is important, I think.”
“I am not pouting.” Maybe.
His smile was indulgent, but the expression in his espresso gaze was serious. “Our marriage has been broken for a very long time, and I did not realize it because I am blessed with a wife who is generous and beautifully passionate in bed.”
“What are you saying?”
“Why haven’t you asked me to look at any of the house options here in Athens?” he asked, showing he had that trick down too.
She shrugged. “Are we in a rush to find a house?”
“You are less than three months away from giving birth. I would say so, yes.”
“But we don’t have to move before the baby is born.”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“Maybe I like living here in the penthouse. Helena is happy here.”
“She would be just as happy in a house with a garden to play in.”
“We have the roof garden.” It had a pool as well, and she and Helena got their daily dose of swimming just as they had at the villa. There was room for a play structure up there, but she didn’t know how Alexandros would feel about changing the look from elegant showpiece to family friendly.
“You want to stay here?” he asked, surprise lacing his tone. “We could turn the guest room into a nursery, I suppose.” He frowned as if in thought. “I imagined you’d prefer to have more room.”
She laughed, the sound harsher than she would have expected. “Helena and I used maybe four rooms in the villa when you weren’t there.”
He grimaced, acknowledging a truth he’d been ignorant of until very recently. “Because it felt too much like a hotel to you.”
“Yes.” She sighed, deciding to be honest, even though she wasn’t sure about revealing her thoughts and fears to the man she had learned not to trust, but had never stopped loving.
Whoever said there could be no love without trust didn’t understand the nature of consuming love.
Of course, she’d prefer to trust her husband with her heart, but she wasn’t going to stop loving him just because she couldn’t.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Cards on the table?”
“That is one of those American idioms you are so fond of, isn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes. And he accused her of going off on tangents. “Yes, it means—”
“That you will show me your thoughts you’ve been hiding. Yes I know.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” She sighed. “Not on purpose.”
“What have you been hiding not on purpose?” he asked.
“Okay. First of all, you realize that this penthouse has more square footage than the house I grew up in?”
He inclined his head, waiting, she was sure for her to get to the point.
“My parents raised four children in that house.”
“So, you want a smaller house?” he asked, sounding like he was trying to figure out what she was saying.
“Not per se, but this penthouse has four bedrooms. Yes, one is set up as an office that we can both use, so that’s nice.”
“You are rambling again.”
“I’m not. I’m explaining.”
“I apologize. I am listening.” He made the gesture she’d taught Helena to indicate turning her listening ears on.
Polly smiled. “Good. We don’t need a guest room. We can put my family up in either the corporate apartments, when they come to visit, or a hotel if you have business associates using the apartments on the next level down.”
“Business associates or out-of-town employees can use a hotel in that case. Family always comes first,” Alexandros declared.
“That’s great. I’d rather have Mom and Dad closer when they come to stay especially.”
“But you do not want a house that could accommodate this?” he asked.
“I like the penthouse. I l
ike especially that it’s so easy for you to come home to.”
Understanding flared in his gorgeous gaze. “You think if we buy a house that will require any sort of commute that I will not come home as often?”
“Yes. Even Palaio Psychico would require a fifteen-minute drive in good traffic.” If they moved there, her super busy tycoon husband would have no hope of popping in for lunch when his schedule had an extra hour in it.
“And that is thirty minutes more than you want to spend away from me each day?” he asked, sounding pleased rather than like he thought she was needy and demanding.
Which gave her the courage for honesty. “Closer to an hour with you coming home in congested traffic, but yes.”
“And perhaps you are worried that if I have to work late into the evening, I will be tempted to stay here rather than drive to our home?” he guessed.
She shrugged. They both knew that was more probability than possibility.
“I assure you that it would never happen.”
That was nice of him to say, but she had her doubts.
They must have shown on her face because he frowned. “In essence, you do not want to pick out your dream home here in Athens because you do not trust me to place a priority to spend time there with you and our children?”
He wasn’t sounding so pleased now.
“You’re a workaholic, Alexandros. Pretending otherwise won’t change the truth.”
“I explained that.”
“You explained not being around for my first pregnancy. And I understand it now, even if I wish you’d been forthcoming at the time. But Alexandros, you have always worked long hours. Since our move to the villa, you spent at least one night every week here in the penthouse. Sometimes multiple nights.”
“That cannot be true.” Now he was giving her the look, the one that said she was too demanding and needy.
Polly pulled her defenses around her, reminding herself this was why she could no longer trust him with her love. “If you don’t believe me, look at your pilot’s log. It will show you the truth.”
He grabbed his phone, she was sure, doing exactly that. He no doubt thought he would prove her wrong, but his expression changed to one of chagrin as he read the pilot’s log.