by Sara Craven
Beneath it, he was naked. And, although she had no grounds for comparison, magnificently so, she realised, any initial shyness or apprehension dissolving, and her gaze absorbed, even hungry as he came back to the bed. And to her.
‘Don’t look at me like that, agapi mou.’ There was laughter in his voice as he stretched out beside her. ‘You will embarrass me.’
‘How do I look?’ she whispered, smiling as he drew her into his arms.
‘Like a little cat,’ he said softly. ‘With a saucer of cream.’
And he began to kiss her again, his mouth caressing hers, then skimming her forehead, her eyes, her cheekbones and slowly back to her parted, eager lips.
He slid the straps of her nightgown from her shoulders and eased it down her body until she was completely free from its thin folds.
He said softly, ‘I have dreamed of you like this, agapi mou, naked in my bed, your hair like moonlight on my pillow. And now my dream has come true.’
He tossed her nightgown to the floor and began to stroke her breasts, her nipples rising and hardening under the skilful play of his fingers, drawing a sigh of pleasure from her, which turned to a husky moan as his lips took each dusky peak in turn and suckled them slowly and sweetly.
‘Exquisite,’ he whispered against her skin. ‘Like perfect roses, Selene mou.’
Then once again, his mouth found hers, capturing its soft contours, his tongue moving like silk against her own, and Selena wound her arms round his neck, playing with the thick hair that grew at its nape, surrendering to the implicit promise of his kiss.
His hands slid down her back, tracing the pliant length of her spine and moulding the slight curves of her buttocks, as he gathered her closer, so that the proud strength of his penis pressed against her belly, and she felt the hot rush of moisture between her thighs that signalled her body’s readiness to welcome him.
She moved beneath him, her body seething, restless, her hands exploring him in turn, closing round him, cupping him with unashamed greed.
‘Please.’ She hardly recognised her own voice. ‘Oh—please.’
‘Soon,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘Have patience, my sweet one. First, let me protect you.’
He lifted himself away, reaching into a drawer in the night table, extracting and tearing open a small packet.
Safe sex, she thought from some still rational corner of her brain. That was what he meant, of course. But there could be no such thing. Even from her limited and incomplete experience she knew that. Because sex was wild—exciting—dangerous—taking your mind and your body by storm. Never safe...
Then he came back to her, and she stopped thinking as his hand reclaimed her, his fingertips parting the delicate petals of her womanhood to find the liquid heat they sheltered.
She arched towards him, gasping as, once again, he stroked her swollen crest, awakening it to aching delicious torment. Urging her towards release, then holding back, making her wait, prolonging her anticipation of the exquisite moment.
Her mouth searched for his, kissing him feverishly, almost desperately, sobbing soundlessly, her teeth grazing his bottom lip.
He said her name softly and fiercely. Then his hand moved with intense precision and took her at last over the edge, her body convulsing harshly as she was lifted to the peak of rapture.
She cried out, brokenly, blind-eyed with joy, and, in the same moment, was aware of him raising himself, moving across her, his arms braced on either side of her, before entering her still throbbing body with one powerful, fluid thrust.
For an instant, he paused, his gaze intent, even questioning, as if searching hers for a hint of reluctance or discomfort. Then, gently, unhurriedly, he began to push more deeply into her, making her want more.
So much more. Making her realise it was all there—waiting for her.
Telling her to reach for him. To grasp his shoulders. To lift her legs so that they locked round his lean hips. To move with him—against him—in this unique rhythm. To feel herself closing round the strong heated hardness of him, her muscles holding him. Taking all of him in this driving compulsion to be one with him.
At once, the pace of their joining quickened.
Intensified. She was caught, carried along by the fierce current of their mutual desire, every atom of her being concentrated on the sensations that seemed to be once more gathering inside her, drawing her, incredibly—inexorably—on a renewed ascent to pleasure.
No, she thought dazedly. Impossible so soon...
Yet, at that moment, it was there. She was seized and flung out, gasping, trembling and crying out wordlessly into the stormy tumult of climax, and, at its height, she heard Alexis groan harshly and felt his body shudder into hers in his own fierce release.
They lay still entwined together as their ragged breathing steadied and a kind of peace returned. At last, Alexis withdrew from her gently and went to the bathroom.
When he came back to the bed, he pulled her into his arms, cushioning her head on his chest, pushing her sweat-dampened hair back from her forehead.
‘So, my heart’s angel,’ he whispered. ‘Have you nothing to say?’
She gave a lingering sigh. ‘It was—unbelievable.’
‘I am sorry you think so.’ There was laughter in his voice. ‘I shall try to be more convincing next time.’
She giggled softly. ‘And when will that be, Kyrios Alexis?’
‘When I have recovered a little,’ he returned, kissing the top of her head. ‘It was only the gods who were made all-potent and untiring when they made love, agapi mou. Sadly, they denied mortal men the same gifts, and gave them only to women.’
She snuggled closer. ‘How very unkind of them.’
‘I have always believed so. But I thought, while we waited, you might like to learn a little Greek.’
‘Why not?’ She traced a pattern among his chest hair with her forefinger. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Let us begin with—s’agapo.’
‘S’agapo,’ she repeated obediently. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means,’ he said softly, ‘that you have told me you love me.’
She gave an indignant gasp. ‘Oh—but that’s...’
He silenced her with a kiss. ‘Is it untrue? Do you still claim that love cannot happen so quickly or so completely?’
She was silent for a moment, then she said huskily, ‘Yesterday, I’d have said yes. Now—I just don’t know any more. And it’s not just about—this. It’s when you take my hand and I—I feel suddenly—safe. As if...’ She hesitated.
‘As if you have come home?’ Alexis supplied gently.
‘Because that is how it is for me, matia mou.’
‘Then why did you—vanish like that? Leave me out in the cold again?’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Oh, God, that sounds awful—so needy.’
‘But I also have needs, Selene mou. And a question for you to ask me. M’agapas? Do you love me?’
She said quickly, painfully, ‘Alexis—you don’t have to...’
Only to be halted by another kiss.
‘Ask me,’ he whispered.
She lifted a hand. Touched his cheek. ‘M’agapas, Alexis mou?’
He took her hand. Held it. He said quietly, ‘Yes, my beautiful one. I think almost from that first moment. And I shall love you for the rest of my life.’
He paused. ‘But, I will confess I did not bargain for it. Maybe I felt there was no place for it in my life, and that is why I distanced myself.’
His mouth twisted. ‘Only to discover that there was not an hour in every day that I did not think of you. When I did not long to be with you, to see that little jerk of the chin you give when you are about to cut me down to size.
‘Or when I did not remember how you felt in my arms and the sweetness of your mouth.
‘But when I came back, you told me you were leaving.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘That must not be, agapi mou. Not now. We cannot return to the cold when we belong together.’
<
br /> Selena bit her lip. ‘But I must go back. Millie needs her birth certificate and...’
‘There is time for that. Time that we need together.’ He spoke firmly. ‘Stay with me here, matia mou, until I am free to travel to England with you.’
She stared at him. ‘But my aunt...’
‘I shall face her with you,’ he said. ‘When that time comes.’
Her little laugh was breathless. ‘You must really love me.’
‘Believe it.’ He sounded almost fierce. ‘Believe it always.’
He framed her face in his hands, brought her mouth to his, the kiss deep, lingering and warmly sensuous, leaving her sighing with pleasure.
She ran her fingers over his chest, stroking the flat male nipples, tracing the strength of his ribcage, enjoying the quickening of his heartbeat at her touch.
Emboldened, she let her hand drift down across his abdomen to rest on his hip and then slip further, feeling him stir and harden as her fingers clasped him. Caressed him.
Alexis sank back against the pillows, eyes half-closed and a faint smile playing about his mouth.
He said very softly, ‘What are you doing, Selene mou?’
‘Being a little cat,’ she whispered back. ‘Waiting for my next saucer of cream.’
She woke to the dazzle of sunlight and Millie’s voice saying, ‘Wake up, Lena, for heaven’s sake. You’ve got a ferry to catch.’
Selena shot bolt upright, gasping, to the realisation that she was not only back in her own room, but once more chastely clad in her nightdress.
As if, in fact, the previous night had never happened.
But the slight aches she was experiencing, plus the feeling of languid well-being suffusing her told a different story.
Alexis, she thought, must have carried her back here and put her to bed like a little girl. And she suppressed a giggle.
Millie handed her a cup of coffee. ‘It’s all been kicking off here,’ she said. ‘Eleni and her beloved Kyrios Alexis, the one who can do no wrong, having the mother and father of all rows.’
Selena’s hand jerked, nearly spilling the coffee. ‘Do you know what it was about?’ She tried to sound casual.
Millie shrugged. ‘How could I? I don’t speak Greek. But I expect I can find out from Kostas,’ she added. ‘He knows everything that goes on.’
She paused. ‘Don’t forget about my bracelet, and you’d better return Fiona’s bikini to her, if she still wants it.
‘And please do your best to mend fences for me with Aunt Nora. Get her to come to the wedding. Apparently on Rhymnos, they know how to throw quite a party.’
She left Selena feeling dazed and uneasy. And when, bathed, dressed and bag in hand, she found Yorgos waiting to drive her to the ferry, her bewilderment increased.
Had she dreamed the night before? Had it all been just an extreme exercise in wish-fulfilment? Had she simply imagined that Alexis had told her that he loved her—not once, but so many times in that long and rapturous night? Had asked her to stay?
Because if it had been real, then where was he? And knew she could not ask.
‘My wife is unwell,’ Yorgos said awkwardly as he placed her bag in the car. ‘But she wishes you a safe and pleasant journey, thespinis.’
Selena stared ahead of her, bleakly certain she’d been the subject of the earlier row. She swallowed.
‘Please—thank her for...’ She could hardly say for making me welcome or even comfortable, but managed, ‘For looking after me.’
It was a silent journey, Selena battling with her increasingly unhappy thoughts and Yorgos clearly wrapped in his own worries.
When they arrived at the quayside, the ferry was just entering the harbour.
As Selena left the car, she reached for her bag but found that Yorgos had already retrieved it and was clutching it to him, with an air of mulish determination.
Her heart sank. She was clearly going to be put aboard the ferry, and he was going to wait until it had departed. It was like being deported, she thought, burning with embarrassment.
She summoned a smile from somewhere and held out her hand. ‘I can manage, Yorgos. You don’t need to stay.’
She was braced for an argument, but he said nothing, just stared past her, his expression turning to one of dismay.
Selena glanced round and saw Alexis standing a few feet away, hands on hips, his sunglasses pushed to the top of his head.
Their eyes met. As his smile reached out to her, she felt the bleak emptiness melt inside her.
‘Kyria Blake is my responsibility, Yorgos.’ His voice was quiet. ‘You may return to the house.’
Yorgos muttered something, his shoulders slumped as he put down the bag, then got back in the car and drove away.
There was a silence, then Alexis said, ‘So, agapi mou. Did you really think I would let you slip away, out of my life?’
She looked at him gravely. ‘I wasn’t sure. Millie told me that Eleni was upset earlier. I—I don’t want to cause you more problems.’
He shrugged. ‘There was a difference of opinion. At times, Eleni forgets I am no longer in the nursery. But it need not trouble you.’
He paused. ‘Unless you really wish to go?’
Mutely, she shook her head. And let him take her hand in his and lead her away.
CHAPTER NINE
HER HAND IN HIS, making her feel cherished. Safe and wanted, then and throughout the days and nights which followed.
But—above and beyond all—loved in a way she’d almost forgotten could exist, their mutual passion tempered with tenderness and consideration, her body free of its inhibitions flowering, opening to him at his touch.
And she was spoiled, too. Alexis had insisted on taking her on a shopping trip to Mykonos, and while Selena had refused to consider any of the more extreme fashions in the designer boutiques, she now had several bikinis with matching wraps, gorgeous silk shirts in jewel colours to wear with slim-fitting white pants and pretty dresses that floated like clouds for their evenings together.
Things he’d whispered that he would enjoy taking off and her smile told him she would enjoy that, too.
Most days they drove out together, lunching off freshly caught fish at small seaside tavernas, often returning to the Pillars of Apollo to make love in the drowsy heat of the afternoon. They often dined out in the evenings, too, at places where there was traditional Greek music and dancing in which Selena, in spite of her initial protests, was made to join.
‘You must learn, matia mou,’ Alexis told her. ‘So you can dance at your sister’s wedding.’
However, none of their rovings around the island, including a tour round the ultra-modern, ultra-efficient olive oil factory, took them back to the villa, confirming for Selena that she had indeed been concerned in Alexis’s ‘difference of opinion’ with Eleni, which troubled her. Instead, his apartment at the hotel had become their own private domain, and if the staff there also disapproved of her presence, they hid it well, Stelios leading them in treating her with smiling courtesy.
Except for Kostas who seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her.
She’d sought him out once to suggest that Millie might join her occasionally beside the pool or on the stretch of sandy beach below the hotel gardens, only to receive a point blank refusal.
‘You are the pillow friend of Kyrios Constantinou, and that has caused more problems with my mother,’ he told her sullenly. ‘It is better that my Amelia stays away.’
She was tempted to remind him he was hardly in a position to adopt the moral high ground, but decided it would be more politic to keep quiet, telling herself that things would sort themselves out. Although she wasn’t sure how.
The only time she was separated from Alexis was on his trips to Athens when he would generally be away for at least twenty-four hours.
Selena missed him desperately during these brief absences, finding it difficult to sleep without his arms around her, and asked at one point if she could accompany him, b
ut he’d refused. ‘Athens is a sad place now, agapi mou and not always safe,’ he told her gently and she’d reluctantly accepted his explanation.
However, when he warned her that his next trip would take much longer, lasting a week or more, she decided, instead of moping, to go back to Haylesford, not just for Millie’s sake, but her own.
To break the news to Aunt Nora that she was putting her career plans on indefinite hold and returning to Rhymnos, and weathering the storm that would inevitably follow.
But Alexis seemed restive about the scheme. ‘Wait a little, matia mou, until I can go with you,’ he urged.
But Selena, under pressure from Millie, anxious about the date of her wedding, remained adamant.
‘I can handle Aunt Nora,’ she told him with more confidence than she actually felt. ‘And I’ll be back before you are.’
‘You promise it?’ he asked, his voice oddly sombre.
‘Cross my heart,’ she said. ‘Besides, I have to go because Stelios did magic to get me on a flight and I can’t let him down.’
His smile was thin. ‘I must remember to thank him.’
‘You do that,’ she said and kissed him.
Yet the night preceding his departure, there was a fierce almost desperate edge to his lovemaking, which took her to new heights of pleasure but left her afterwards feeling forlorn to the point of sadness, even before they’d said goodbye.
And her mood wasn’t lifted by the grey skies and rain that greeted her in England. By the time she reached her aunt’s house from the station, she was chilled and damp.
And there was no one at home. She went into the kitchen and switched on the kettle, then went up to her room. The bed was freshly made up, indicating that her phone message had been received and she was expected, so presumably her aunt’s absence was only temporary.
She ate a hasty meal of scrambled eggs on toast and drank two cups of coffee, then walked into town, first to the jewellers where Millie’s bracelet was mended while she waited, then to the travel agency to book a return flight to Mykonos for the following day.
She was on her way back to the house when a girl’s voice said, ‘Hi, Selena,’ and she turned to see Daisy and Fiona.