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Playing by the Greek's Rules

Page 13

by Sarah Morgan


  She felt him pull her hard against him, felt his hand slide down her back and cup her bottom so that she was pressed against the heavy thrust of his erection.

  ‘I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this but I want you.’ He spoke in a thickened tone, and she gave a sob of relief.

  ‘I want you, too. You have no idea how much. Right through lunch I wanted to rip your clothes off and remove that severe look from your face.’

  He lifted his mouth from hers, his breathing uneven, the smouldering glitter of his eyes telling her everything she needed to know about his feelings. ‘Do I look severe now?’

  ‘No. You look incredible. This has been the longest week of my life.’ She backed towards the bed, pulling him with her. If he changed his mind she was sure she’d explode. ‘Don’t have second thoughts. I know this is about sex and nothing else. I don’t love you, but I’d love a repeat of all those things you did to me the other night.’

  With sure hands, he dispensed with her sundress. ‘All of them?’

  ‘Yes.’ She wanted him so badly it was almost indecent and when he lowered his head and trailed his mouth along her neck she almost sobbed aloud. ‘Please. Right now. I want your whole repertoire. Don’t hold anything back.’

  ‘You’re shy, it’s still daylight,’ he growled, ‘and I don’t have a blindfold.’

  ‘I’m not shy. Shy has left the party. I don’t care, I don’t care.’ Her hands moved over his chest and lower to his damp swimming shorts. She struggled to remove them over the thrusting force of his erection but finally her frantic fumbling proved successful and she covered him with the flat of her hand.

  He groaned low in his throat and tipped her onto the bed, covering her body with his, telling her how much he wanted her, how hard she made him, until the excitement climbed to a point where she was a seething, writhing mass of desire. She tore at his shirt with desperate hands and he swore under his breath and wrenched it over his head, his fingers tangling with hers.

  ‘Easy, slow down, there’s no rush.’

  ‘Yes, there is.’ She rolled him onto his back and pressed her mouth to the hard planes of his chest and lower until she heard him groan. She tried to straddle him but he flipped her onto her back and caught her shifting hips in his hands, anchoring her there.

  Despite the simmering tension, there was laughter in his eyes. ‘It would be a criminal waste to rush this, theé mou.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t.’ She slid her hands over the silken muscles of his back. ‘It might kill me if you don’t.’

  It was hard to know which of them was most aroused. She saw it in the glitter of his eyes and heard it in his uneven breathing. Felt it in the slight shake of his fingers as he unhooked her bra and peeled it away from her, releasing her breasts, taking his time. Everything he did was slow, unhurried, designed to torture her and she wondered how he could exercise so much control, such brutal discipline, because if it had been up to her the whole thing would have been over by now. He kept her still with his weight, with soft words, with skilled kisses and the sensual slide of his hand that dictated both position and pace.

  She felt the cool air from the ceiling fan brush the heated surface of her skin and then moaned aloud as he drew her into the dark heat of his mouth. Sensation was sweet and wild and she arched into him, only to find herself anchored firmly by the rough strength of his thigh. He worked his way down her body with slow exploratory kisses and she shivered as she felt the brush of his lips and the flick of his tongue. Lower, more intimate, his mouth wandered to the shadows between her thighs and she felt the slippery heat of his tongue opening her, tasting her until she could feel the pleasure thundering down on her. She was feverish, desperate, everything in her body centred on this one moment.

  ‘Nik—I need—’

  ‘I know what you need.’ A brief pause and then he eased over her and into her, each driving thrust taking him deeper until she didn’t know where she ended and he began and then he paused, his hand in her hair and his mouth against hers, eyes half closed as he studied her face. She was dimly aware that he was saying something, soft intimate words that blurred in her head and melted over her skin. She felt the delicious weight of him, the masculine invasion, the solidity of muscle, the scrape of his jaw against hers as he kissed her, murmured her name and told her all the things he wanted to do to her. And she moaned because she wanted him to do them, right now. He was controlling her but she didn’t care because he knew things about her she didn’t know herself. How to touch her, where to touch her. All she wanted was more of this breath-stealing pleasure and then he started to move, slowly at first, and then building the rhythm with sure, skilled thrusts until she was aware of nothing but him, of hard muscle and slick skin, of the frenzy of sensation until it exploded and she clung to him, sobbing his name as her body tightened on his, her muscles rippling around the thrusting length of him drawing out his own response.

  She heard him groan her name, felt him slide his hand into her hair and take her mouth again so that they kissed their way through the whole thing, sharing every throb, ripple and flutter in the most intimate way possible.

  The force of it left her shaken and stunned and she lay, breathless, trying to bring herself slowly back to earth. And then he shifted his weight and gathered her close, murmuring something in Greek as he stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her mouth gently.

  They lay for a moment and then he scooped her up and carried her into the shower where, under the soft patter of steamy water, he proceeded to expand her sexual education with infinite skill until her body no longer felt like her own and her legs felt like rubber.

  ‘Nik?’ She lay damp and sated on the tangled sheets, deliciously sleepy and barely able to keep her eyes open. ‘Is that why you don’t like coming back here? Because it reminds you of your childhood?’

  He stared down at her with those fathomless black eyes, his expression inscrutable. ‘Get some sleep.’ His voice was even. ‘I’ll wake you in time to change for dinner.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I have work to do.’

  In other words she’d strayed into forbidden territory. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was another question she wanted to ask him, but her brain was already drifting into blissful unconsciousness and she slid into a luxurious sleep.

  * * *

  Nik returned to the terrace and made calls in the shade, one eye on the open doors of Lily’s bedroom.

  So much for his resolve not to touch her again.

  And what had possessed him to tell her about his mother? It was something he rarely thought about himself, let alone spoke of to other people.

  It was being back here that had stirred up memories long buried.

  He ignored the part of him that said it was the prospect of another wedding that stirred up the memories, not the place.

  To distract himself he worked until the blaze of the sun dimmed and he heard movement from the bedroom.

  He ended the call he’d made and a few minutes later she wandered onto the terrace, sleepy eyed and deliciously disorientated. ‘Have you been out here the whole time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re not tired?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because you’re stressed out about your father.’ She sat down next to him and poured herself a glass of water. ‘For what it’s worth, I like Diandra.’

  He studied the soft curve of her mouth and the kindness in her eyes. ‘Is there anyone you don’t like?’

  ‘Yes!’ She sipped her water. ‘I have a deep aversion to Professor Ashurst, and if we’re drawing up a list then I should confess I didn’t totally fall in love with your girlfriend from the other night, but that might be because she called me fat. And I definitely didn’t like you a few hours ago, but you redeemed yourself in the bedroom so I’m willin
g to overlook the offensive things you said on the journey.’ A dimple appeared in the corner of her mouth and Nik felt the instant, powerful response of his body and wondered how he was going to make it through an evening of small talk with people that didn’t interest him.

  She, on the other hand, interested him extremely.

  ‘We should get ready for the party. The guests will be arriving soon and my father wants us up there early to greet them.’

  ‘Us? You, surely, not me.’

  ‘He wants you, too. He likes you very much.’

  ‘I like him, too, but I don’t think I should be greeting his guests. I’m not family. We’re not even together.’ Her gaze slid to his and away again and he knew she was thinking about what they’d shared earlier.

  He was, too. In fact he’d thought of little else but sex with Lily since she’d drenched herself in his shower a week earlier.

  Sex had always been important to him, but since meeting her it had become an obsession.

  ‘It would mean a lot to him if you were there.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure that’s what he wants. This all feels a bit surreal.’

  ‘Which part feels surreal?’

  ‘All of it. The whole rich-lifestyle thing. Living with you could turn a girl’s head. You can snap your fingers and have anything you want.’

  Relieved by the lightening of the atmosphere, he smiled. ‘I will snap my fingers for you any time you like. Tell me what you want.’

  She smiled. ‘You can get me anything?’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘So if I had a craving for lobster mousse, you’d find me one?’

  ‘I would.’ He reached for his phone and she covered his hand with hers, laughing.

  ‘I wasn’t serious! I don’t want lobster mousse.’ Her fingers were light on his hand. There was nothing suggestive about her touch. Nothing that warranted his extreme physical reaction.

  ‘Then what?’ His voice was husky. ‘If you don’t want lobster mousse, what can I get you?’

  Her eyes met his and colour streaked across her cheeks. ‘Nothing. I have everything I need.’ She removed her hand quickly and said something, but her words were drowned out by the clacking of a helicopter.

  Nik rose reluctantly to his feet. ‘We need to move. The guests are arriving.’

  ‘By helicopter?’ Her eyes were round, as if it was only now dawning on her that this wasn’t an ordinary wedding party. ‘Is this party going to be glamorous?’

  ‘Very. Lunch was an informal family affair, but tonight is for my father to show off his new wife.’

  ‘How many guests?’

  ‘A very select party. No more than two hundred, but they’re arriving from all over Europe and the US.’

  ‘Two hundred? That’s a select party?’ Her smile faltered. ‘I’m a gatecrasher.’

  ‘You are not a gatecrasher. You’re my guest.’

  She pushed her hair back from her face. ‘I’m starting to panic that what I brought with me isn’t dressy enough.’

  ‘You look lovely in everything you wear, but I do have something if you’d like to take a look at it.’

  ‘Something you bought for someone else?’

  ‘No. For you.’

  ‘I told you I didn’t want anything.’

  ‘I didn’t listen.’

  ‘So you bought me something anyway. In case I embarrassed you?’

  ‘No. In case you had a panic that what you’d brought wasn’t dressy enough.’

  ‘I should probably be angry that you’re calling me predictable, but as we don’t have time to be angry I’m going to overlook it. Can I see?’ She stood up at the same time he did and her body brushed against his.

  ‘Lily...’ He breathed her name, steadied her with his hands and she gave a low moan.

  ‘No.’ Her eyes were clouded. ‘Seriously, Nik, if we do it again I’ll fall asleep and never wake up. The Prince is supposed to wake Sleeping Beauty, not put her to sleep with endless sex.’

  He lifted his hand to her flushed cheek and gently stroked her hair back from her face. It took all his will power not to power her back against the wall. ‘We could skip the party. Better still, we could grab a couple of bottles of champagne and have our own party here by the pool.’

  ‘No way! Not only would that upset your father and Diandra, but I wouldn’t get to ogle all those famous people. Brittany will grill me later so I need to have details. Am I allowed to take photographs?’

  ‘Of course.’ With a huge effort of will he let his hand drop. ‘You’d better try the dress.’

  * * *

  The dress was exquisite. A long sheath of shimmering turquoise silk with delicate beads hand-sewn around the neckline. It fitted her perfectly.

  She picked up her phone, took a quick selfie and sent it to Brittany with a text saying Rebound sex is my new favourite thing.

  People were wrong when they thought rebound sex didn’t involve any emotion, she mused. Yes, the sex was spectacular, but even though she wasn’t in love that didn’t mean two people couldn’t care about each other. She cared about making this wedding as easy as possible for Nik, and he’d cared enough not to leave her alone when she was upset.

  Somewhere deep inside a small part of her wondered if perhaps that wasn’t how she was supposed to be feeling, but she dismissed it, picked up her purse and walked through to the living room.

  ‘I could be a little freaked out by how well you’re able to guess my size.’

  He turned, sleek and handsome in a dinner suit.

  Despite the undisputable elegance and sophistication, formal dress did nothing to disguise the lethal power of the man beneath.

  Testosterone in a tux, she thought as he reached into his pocket and handed her something.

  ‘What’s this?’ She took the slim, elegant box and opened it cautiously. There, nestled in deep blue velvet, was a necklace of silver and sapphire she immediately recognised. ‘It’s one of Skylar’s. I admired the picture.’

  ‘And now you can admire the real thing. I thought it would look better on your neck than in a catalogue.’ He took it from her and fastened it round her neck while she pressed her fingers to her throat self-consciously.

  ‘When did you buy this?’

  ‘I had it flown in after you admired her pot.’

  ‘You had it flown in? From New York? There wasn’t time.’

  ‘This piece was in a gallery in London.’

  ‘Unbelievable. So extravagant.’

  ‘Then why are you smiling?’

  ‘Because I like pretty things and Skylar makes the prettiest things.’ Smiling, she pulled her phone out of her purse again. ‘I need to capture the moment so when I’m sitting in my pyjamas in a cramped apartment in rainy London I can relive this moment. It’s a loan, obviously, because I could never accept a gift this generous.’ She took a couple of photos and then made him pose with her. ‘I promise not to sell these to the newspapers. Can I send it to Sky? I can say Look what I’m wearing.’

  A smile touched the corners of his mouth. ‘It’s your photo. You can do anything you like with it.’

  ‘Skylar will be over the moon. I’m going to make sure everyone sees this necklace tonight. Now, tell me how you’re feeling.’ She’d asked herself over and over again if his earlier confession was something she should mention or not. But how could she ignore it when it was clearly the source of his stress?

  His expression shifted from amused to guarded. ‘How I’m feeling?’

  ‘This is a party to celebrate your father’s impending wedding, which you didn’t want to attend. Is it hard to be here thinking about your mother and watching your father marry again? It must make marriage seem like a disposable object.’

  ‘I appreciate your conc
ern, but I’m fine.’

  ‘Nik, I know you’re not fine, but if you’d rather not talk about it—’

  ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

  She kept her thoughts on that to herself. ‘Then let’s go.’ She slipped her hand into his. ‘I guess everyone will be trying to work out whether you’re pleased or not, so for Diandra’s sake make sure you smile.’

  ‘Thank you for your counsel.’

  ‘Ouch, that was quite a put-down. I presume that was your way of telling me to stop talking.’

  ‘If I want to stop you talking, I have more effective methods than a verbal put-down.’

  She caught his eye. ‘If you feel like testing out one of those methods, go right ahead.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’

  She was shocked by how badly she wanted to tempt him. She considered dragging him back inside, but a car was waiting outside the villa for them. ‘I didn’t realise there were cars on the island. How do they get across here?’

  ‘There is a ferry, but my father usually takes a helicopter to the mainland if he is travelling.’

  ‘We could have walked tonight.’

  ‘There is no way you’d be able to walk that far in those shoes, let alone dance.’

  ‘Who says I’ll be dancing?’

  His gaze slid to hers. ‘I do.’

  ‘You seem very sure of that.’

  ‘I am, because you’ll be dancing with me.’

  She felt a shiver of excitement, excitement that grew as they drew up outside the imposing main entrance. The villa was situated on the far side of the island, out of sight of the mainland. ‘This is a mansion, not a villa. Normal people don’t live like this.’

  ‘You think I’m not a normal person?’

  ‘I know you’re not.’ She took his arm as they walked past a large fountain to the floodlit entrance of the villa. ‘Normal people don’t own five homes and a private jet.’

  ‘The jet is owned by the company.’

  ‘And you own the company.’ It was hard not to feel overwhelmed as she walked through the door into the palatial entrance of his father’s home. Towering ceilings gave a feeling of space and light and through open doors she caught a glimpse of rooms tastefully furnished with antiques and fine art. ‘Tell me again what your father does?’

 

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