by Annie West
But the question dissolved as he stroked her there and she shuddered. The feel of him where she most wanted him, it was too much and far, far too little.
Lia wanted more. She wanted everything.
Clamping her thighs around his hand, she pulled his head down and kissed him so hard on the mouth their teeth clashed. Desperation rose at the idea he might, even now, pull away from her.
‘Easy,’ he whispered, stroking her cheek. But it was too late for easy. Lia was now officially desperate. Nothing could assuage this terrible clamour inside but Niccolo. As he returned her kiss she tugged at his belt, slipping it open as easily as if she’d done it thousands of times.
Only in her dreams.
But the catch on his trousers proved too difficult and with a grunt he pushed her hand aside to take care of it himself.
It was really happening. Her and Niccolo!
The enormity of the moment was enough to inject a flash of common sense. Yet even as she drew breath to ask, Niccolo tugged out his wallet and withdrew a small, square package.
By the time he shoved his trousers down he’d sheathed himself and Lia’s heart pounded fit to burst from watching his deft, urgent movements. From seeing him aroused and proud. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly parched as anticipation soared to breaking point.
Lia shifted restlessly, waiting for him to move back so she could strip off the thong that was all the underwear she wore. Instead she felt a long finger loop under the fabric and wrench it aside. She was still rigid with shock at his touch there, when suddenly he was against her, demanding entrance.
Niccolo was hot, so hot. For a moment Lia stiffened, aware of the boundary they crossed. She felt exposed and suddenly wary. Then he feathered a caress along her jaw, up into her hair, easing her tension.
When she softened against him he gently lifted her leg with his other hand, twining it around his hip, stroking her thigh with his palm, crooning words of approval.
Now Lia no longer felt uncertain. His tenderness and the sensation of flesh pressing flesh banished her momentary hesitation. She wrapped her other leg round Niccolo, chaining him to her.
‘Tesoro.’ His words blurred in a hot cascade of endearments that melded with the throb of her heartbeat.
Still he surged into her, slow and sure, and Lia gasped at the unfamiliar stretch, the exquisite sensation of male hardness against slick feminine softness. It was shocking, wondrous. Impossible! She’d anticipated a sting of pain but there was none, just a fullness that she relished, despite its strangeness.
Finally Niccolo came to rest right at her heart and her breath escaped in a shuddering sigh.
He possessed all of her, that’s how it felt. As if he’d taken her body, but gave back far more.
Lia held her breath in wonder, till she realised he’d stopped moving. She opened her eyes and found him watching her, his eyes fathoms deep and rich in sensual secrets.
‘Lia.’ He’d never said her name like that before. As if it was both question and answer to something vast and eternal. His mouth hooked up in a smile. ‘Look at us together.’
Following his lead she bent her head, just as he withdrew from her. Her immediate sense of loss was tempered by awe and sheer carnal excitement at the sight of his shaft, so long and powerful, sliding almost free, then pushing home with an urgency that stole her breath and sent stars of rapture whirling.
She’d never experienced anything so erotic in her life. She’d expected that with Niccolo, sex would be great. Though she’d shied from admitting it, that was probably why she’d never taken a lover before. But this… This was beyond her imaginings.
Lia tightened her grip around his waist and held on to Niccolo’s shoulders. He was moving again, easy and measured, but once more, his return thrust sent her flying closer to delight.
She didn’t want measured. She wanted Niccolo as she was, shivering on the brink of losing herself. She pulled his head down and kissed him with all the pent-up passion of years of wanting. At the same time she circled her hips, trying to accommodate even more of him. Trying to assuage the yearning for more. For everything.
A huge shudder ran through him and he growled, deep in the back of his throat, making the fine hairs on her arms stand to attention.
Then, suddenly, he let go. Those carefully measured movements became a rapid, urgent bucking. He tore his mouth from her and instead nipped the flesh at the base of her neck, creating an erotic current that arced from her throat to her nipples and down to her pelvis. One hard hand squeezed her breast and suddenly, out of nowhere, her climax struck. It filled her, tossing her high as the stars, then shattered her, just as Niccolo rasped her name and drove into her, spilling his vital heat right at her core.
It took forever for the vibrations to die down, leaving her to float back to reality on a cloud of bliss.
Vaguely she was aware of Niccolo cradling her close, of his heart running out of control, or maybe that was her heart. They were so completely joined it felt like there was no beginning or end, no separate beings. That they were one.
*
Niccolo rested his forehead against Lia’s. He had no words to describe his feelings. His brain was thick with pleasure. But when fragments of thought were possible he realised he felt greater than the man he’d been. Like some immortal walking in glory.
He kissed her neck and traced lazy circles on her back. Instantly she shivered and her inner muscles tightened around him.
Niccolo froze. Was it possible? Even after that monumental climax? He stroked her and she moved, this time arching languorously against him, and sure enough, again that secret embrace as her muscles clamped him. And, yes, instead of withdrawing from her, he found himself thickening, halfway to another erection.
In a couple of urgent moves he’d shucked off his shoes and dress trousers. Still Lia clung, as if she too, needed this closeness.
He’d never been like this with any woman. Never believed it possible.
He grinned, facial muscles pulling taut as he scooped his hands under her bottom and lifted her off the dressing table.
Lia gasped but clung on, her legs, shaking now, still wrapped about him.
‘Easy, cara, easy.’ A couple of steps took them to the bed and he sat with her astride him. Lamplight cast shadows across her fine features and made the sequins on her dress sparkle. The coverlet was cool beneath his bare buttocks but he was overheated, still wearing his jacket and tie.
‘Undress me.’ His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been shouting his exultation. As he said it he explored the side zip of her dress, tugging it open. He watched as her brilliant eyes slowly focused again and her lips curved up.
He waited till she’d stripped the bowtie from him and shoved his jacket from his shoulders before he lifted the slippery fabric of her dress. Obediently she raised her arms so that slowly, oh so slowly the evening dress rose, revealing lithe hips, a pale belly and narrow waist, slender ribcage and full breasts tipped with dark raspberry nipples. The sight of her caught at something in his chest and a different kind of heat saturated him from his skeleton to his pores.
Niccolo hauled the dress over her head and onto the floor. His hands shook and his mouth was dry and that promising erection grew by the second. She felt it too. How could she not? Her eyes widened as suddenly Niccolo’s patience tore. He wrenched at his shirt buttons, tearing them open in one decisive tug. The cufflinks took longer but soon they were both naked.
‘Now,’ he murmured and rolled back on the bed, holding her against him so she reared above him, high breasts tantalising. But not this time. He moved again and she was beneath him, and around him, her hair like a fan of silk on the pillows.
A sliver of regret hit him as he watched her beautiful eyes widen. The shredded remnants of his conscience clawed for attention, urging him to stop, give her time. But then Lia smiled. Slow and wide and utterly, incomparably beautiful.
‘Make love to me again, Niccolo.’
So of course,
he did, long, long into the night.
Chapter Eight
* * *
Niccolo came awake in an instant, his senses alert to the sweet perfume tickling his nostrils and the warm woman gathered close in his arms.
His eyes snapped open, his body tensing as he took in Lia snuggled up against him. The sun was already high, spilling over her glorious raven hair and camellia-pale skin.
And the rumpled swathe of sheets barely covering them.
His body tightened with the instant recall of last night. Of how spectacular the sex had been. How out of control she’d made him.
Niccolo’s pulse thrummed hard, each beat a hammer at his conscience.
No, Lia hadn’t made him do anything. He’d been driven, had felt his control shatter completely and irrevocably, but it wasn’t Lia’s fault. It was his. He’d been the one to touch her, to want her, to lead her into sex.
He’d been responsible.
The fact it had been sublime was no excuse. Guilt dragged at his belly as he thought of facing Lia’s family, knowing he’d betrayed their trust this way. And Lia too. Last night she hadn’t been herself. She’d hurt in ways he didn’t understand.
He’d taken advantage of her.
He was the one with all the experience. Despite her enthusiasm it was obvious she’d had little experience of intimacy. Her look of sheer wonder as they’d scaled the heights of ecstasy was emblazoned on his brain. At one point he’d even wondered, just for a millisecond, if she was a virgin.
But that was ridiculous. Lia was beautiful and passionate. She had her choice of men. Besides, if she’d saved herself, why give herself to him on the spur of the moment?
He couldn’t think with Lia in his arms. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to wake her with his body and take her again to that pinnacle of bliss where she’d cried out his name.
Already his erection was solid proof that, conscience or not, what he wanted most of all was to stay here with her for the rest of the day.
His gaze dropped to the upper slope of her breasts and he flinched. Instead of smooth, creamy skin there were reddened marks. Beard rash. He scraped a hand over his jaw.
Curiously it was the realisation he’d marked her in his passion, rather than the promptings of his scruples, that made him pull back. What did that say about him?
Grimly, he eased his arm from beneath Lia’s head and extricated himself, inch by slow inch. She rolled closer, as if following his body warmth, her arm outflung across his pillow as he got out of bed.
For a full minute he stood, looking down at her, telling himself to go. Hoping she’d wake and look at him with that wonder in her eyes, begging—
No! It had been wrong last night and it was wrong today.
The sex had been stupendous. But what he’d done…
He spun on his foot and strode across the room, collecting clothes and heading for the bathroom and a long, cold shower.
*
‘You don’t have to tiptoe across the room. I’m awake.’ Lia smiled at the sound of Niccolo’s approach. She felt a little achy in places she’d never ached before and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to move. But the bright sunshine flooding the room was nothing to the radiance she felt inside. It was as if she’d swallowed the sun.
For so many years she’d been in love with Niccolo. Hopelessly, she’d once thought. But it had been far more than a schoolgirl crush. It had lasted this long, grown stronger if anything, and now, after last night, she realised he finally saw her for the woman she was. Lia wasn’t naïve enough to believe that a night of sex meant Niccolo loved her back, but one step at a time.
She snuggled down into the pillow in anticipation, waiting for him to walk around the bed. She hoped he hadn’t dressed. Surely they’d have time before breakfast to…
Lia’s brow twitched into a frown when she saw Niccolo. He looked magnificent. He’d even shaved, revealing the strong angle of his jaw she so admired. His damp hair was slicked back and he wore a casual jacket over a white T shirt and jeans.
But his eyes… They weren’t the eyes of the man who’d made love to her last night.
Lia sat up, her heart jerking into a painful rhythm. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong?’
His gaze dropped and instantly her nipples puckered, the skin of her breasts drawing tight at the heat in his stare. She reached down and grabbed the sheet, tucking it under her arms, warmth rising under her skin. Ridiculous but even after last night she wasn’t used to being naked with Niccolo. At least not naked with him at a distance.
‘Is it your grandmother?’
‘Sorry?’ He lifted his eyes to hers. ‘What about my grandmother?’
A sliver of something very like satisfaction spiralled down through Lia’s insides. She was disappointed Niccolo had showered and dressed without her, that he clearly wasn’t intending to come back to bed, but there was no mistaking his fascination with her nudity. It made her feel a little less self-conscious.
Despite his fervour last night, Lia was all too aware she wasn’t as pretty as his usual girlfriends, nor as experienced. Spending the weekend playing a pretend lover, knowing she was nowhere as glamorous or sophisticated as the women he was accustomed to, had been hard.
‘Is your grandmother all right? I can see something’s wrong. I thought maybe…’
‘As far as I know she’s in perfect health. Though I suspect she’ll sleep late today.’ Yet the frown lingered, knotting his forehead and his dark eyes looked wary rather than welcoming.
Lia’s skin prickled, starting at her nape and spreading in chill waves over her shoulders and arms then racing down her spine.
‘I’ll bring you up a tray so you can breakfast in bed.’ His tone was short, almost curt.
Lia stared up into his handsome face, trying and failing to guess what was wrong.
‘It would be nice to eat together. Maybe on the balcony.’ She’d been going to suggest breakfast in bed, but his brooding expression stopped her.
‘No, I won’t have time.’ He paused, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Lia frowned. Niccolo looked ill at ease. His stance, his movements seemed cramped. Usually he had an aura of athletic strength and confidence but now it was sorely missing.
‘I have to go out. On an errand for my grandmother.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
But Niccolo was already shaking his head. ‘No. Stay here. You can rest.’
‘Niccolo? What’s wrong?’ A horrible thought occurred. ‘Is it something I did? Something I said?’ Whatever had happened, the ardent lover of last night had morphed into a man who was clearly uncomfortable with her.
A vast weight plummeted through her, like a rock, cracking through her joy and tentative excitement.
Lia tightened her hold on the sheet over her breasts.
‘I’m sorry, Lia.’ Just that, with his eyes so dark and blank it was like looking into some vast, empty cavern. ‘Last night should never have happened.’
Everything inside her stilled. Even her breathing stopped. Lia had a sudden, dreadful feeling that when it started again, the pain would be unbearable.
Then Niccolo was sitting on the bed near her thigh and he had her hand in his. She exhaled in relief. He must have qualms about making love to her under his grandmother’s roof. Or maybe because in the beginning he’d been urgent rather than careful.
But she’d revelled in his passion! His later tenderness had been exquisite, but his raw, possessive carnality as he’d taken her that first time had merely added another dimension to her long-standing love for him.
She’d loved him forever but now she’d tasted his ardour, everything was magnified. How could any woman not be in thrall to a man who needed her so desperately? Who gave her such bliss?
‘It’s all right, Niccolo.’
She put her hand onto his cheek, cupping the hard edge of his jaw and loving the intimacy of skin on skin. Had he shaved for her? The idea bubbled out of nowhere, bani
shing her doubts.
Lia breathed deep, inhaling the forest mountain scent of him, mixed with the earthy tones she’d learned last night signalled arousal. A smile tickled her lips, till he caught her hand and drew it away from his face.
‘It’s not all right, Lia. It was a mistake.’ This close she couldn’t miss the dull certainty in his eyes. Gone was the vibrant man she’d known so long, replaced with a stern, merciless stranger.
‘A mistake?’ Her hand shook in his but she couldn’t help it. Nor could she form any new words. That single one — mistake — rang like a tolling bell in her brain.
‘It wasn’t a mistake. It was beautiful.’ Lia willed him to agree. To tell her it had been as life-altering for him as it was for her.
But of course it wasn’t. What was she thinking? He’d had countless lovers, probably vastly more experienced and…inventive than her. Her skin shrank back against her bones and she tried to pull her hand free but he wouldn’t release it.
She met his eyes, ignoring the voice of pride that told her to shut up. For she had to know. ‘I see. That was just me, then. Obviously it wasn’t anything special for you.’
Part of her, the desperate, yearning part, wanted to beg him to teach her the skills she so obviously lacked. But the words wouldn’t come. It was all she could do to keep her head up, even as her hopes crumbled to ashes in her mouth and her vision blurred.
‘Lia! How can you say that? Of course it was beautiful.’ His fingers tightened around hers and he lifted his other hand as if to caress her face. Only to drop it and frown.
‘Then what? I don’t understand.’ Was he trying to protect her feelings? Of course Niccolo wouldn’t want to come straight out and say she was no good at sex.
Yet even as she thought it, confusion rose. He’d climaxed too, several times.
So what had she done wrong?
He stroked her hand and tiny shivers rippled under her skin. He only had to touch her… Not even that. Just a look and she went up in flames.