“You make me that way,” she said, and while squeezing her tit with one hand, he slid his other hand down her body, until he reached her cunt. She parted her thighs for his invasion, then her folds, working them, scissoring them until a fresh coat of her cream covered his fingers. “So good.”
“Yeah, baby. I love playing with your tight pussy.”
He caught her nipple between his thumb and index finger, closing and opening them around her taut bud. She dictated her own sensual rhythm, undulating her hips, rubbing them against his erection, and simultaneously grinding into his hand in a silent plea for more.
His heart squeezed in his chest, skipping a beat or two. The nearness to her raised his temperature to a record level. She reached behind her back, tentatively searching for his cock. When she touched his length, a sizzling awareness raced down his spine, and sweat slicked his forehead and neck. What a dirty virgin Amaya was…his dirty virgin.
Soon, he’d push past her breach and claim her as his, even if temporarily.
The possibility shredded whatever remains of self-control he had left, and he tugged at her nipple, while flicking her clit at the same time. She continued stroking him through his pants, clumsily because of her position, but he didn’t care.
Encouraged, he intensified the teasing of her clit, while his fingers explored her folds, stroked them without entering her. Within minutes, she quivered, her moans multiplying as she came undone.
He waited until her breathing subsided to disengage himself from her and turn her around enough to witness the flame of desire burning deep in the depths of her brown eyes. With dilated pupils and a lovely flush darkening her skin, she smiled at him. A small, lazy smile he wanted to see again and again. A smile impossible to forget.
He gestured to his underwear and pulled it down, every part of him roaring for her. When his cock jutted out, he hissed, cursing himself for his blessing and torment. Didn’t matter. Tonight, he’d fuck her. Nothing would stand in their way.
…
Amaya stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, but before she managed to lift herself all the way to even get on chin level, he dipped his head and captured her lips with his in a scorching kiss. Naked, he embraced her, his proud cock poking her belly. She stroked his tongue with hers, linking her arms around his head, ready to give herself to him.
He lifted her off the floor, and she wrapped her legs around his torso. He carried her to the bed without interrupting the kiss—if anything, he only staked his claim harder, adding another notch of intensity. She caught a whiff of her own female scent and matched his passion, teasing him with the tip of her tongue. She motioned to disengage from him, wrenching her mouth away for a nanosecond, only to kiss him with more urgency, nipping his lower lip in the process. Never had she tried these things with anyone, but he seemed to like it.
When he put her on the mattress, she moaned. His body covered hers, and damn, she wouldn’t have it any other way. He deposited a kiss on her neck, and worked his way down, tracing her breast with his tongue.
“Theo. God.”
An edginess took over her, lifting her ass off the mattress, making her arch toward him because she wanted this man more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. She wanted him even if she didn’t know exactly the consequences of wanting someone so badly.
He sucked her breast, playing with the other, and she thrust her fingers into his hair, loving the tingly sensation burning inside her tits. He began whispering in his native language, his voice manly and coarse, his tone determined.
Turned on, she asked, “What did you say?”
“I said you’re magnificent, and by the time I’m done with you…” he said, switching his attention from one breast to the other. “By the time you leave, I want to have kissed and fucked every part of you to exhaustion. Every hole. All mine.”
Zings of anticipation traveled through her. She mewled, unsure if she wanted to enjoy every second with him or if she preferred for time to fast forward so she’d have experienced his hands, lips, and cock on every part of her already.
“You want it, too, don’t you, my dirty virgin?” He nudged her thighs apart, and a wave of heat whispered over her sex.
“Yes.”
He continued to stroke her thighs, sliding his hands down the back of her knees, where he made invisible patterns in an enticing circular motion. She bucked toward him, his caress sending her blood into a low simmer. “Look at me.”
She bit her lower lip, a rush of embarrassment filling her. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze on him, basking in the sight of that wonderful naked man massaging her calves, then lowering his attention to her feet.
He didn’t waver, his eyes intently on hers, and removed the high heels from one foot, then the other.
She wriggled her toes, excited. “What’s the deal with feet and shoes?”
He began kneading the arches of her feet, massaging them. God. His hands were so strong, vigorous, warm. She moaned, impossible to resist. “Your feet take you everywhere. I like to pay tribute to them…because they’ve brought you to me,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
They’ve brought you to me. God. What the hell? A dizzying spell swirled around her, his statement loosening her bones. Maybe he sensed the tenderness of his own words because he frowned for a moment and looked away from her. She sucked in a breath. Say something, stupid. Say something. “Well, I’m here. What are you going to do?” she said, lowering her tone to make it more seductive, hoping it’d work.
He faced her again, a slow, dangerously sexy smile forming on his lips. Her arousal coated her folds and dripped to her thighs. Lord have mercy. Without breaking the stare, he took one of her toes into his mouth.
The tension caused her to bite her inner cheek. At first, the new sensation of being inside his mouth almost tickled her, but soon, as he nipped her toe, sucking it, razors of pleasure begin to build in her core. Continuing to massage her ankles, he teased her toes, shooting a crazy, red-hot need all the way up her sex.
A strong pulse claimed her clit, and moans escaped her lips. If he didn’t take her soon, she’d burn. Or die. Possibly both. “Come inside me, Theo.”
She watched a lump bob up and down his throat. Gently, he let go of her feet, placing them on the mattress. If it were up to him, maybe he’d want to extend foreplay, but she was more than ready for the moment she’d never be able to take back.
He positioned himself in between her legs and kissed the corner of her mouth, just enough to make her want more. “Amaya.”
“I need you.” She squeezed his shoulder blades, bringing him closer. Her heart flipped in her chest, in a blend of excitement and nervousness.
She wrapped her legs around him, bucking toward him, determined to make her message clear. He glanced at her with a hooded expression, maybe processing her response, but didn’t retreat. He propped himself on top of her and lowered his hand to rub the thick head of his cock onto her sex.
A current of lust zoomed up her body, so powerful it constricted her lungs for a moment, robbing her of oxygen.
“Relax, my love,” he said in a soft voice, and though he was just being nice, a silly part of her clung to the endearment. She needed it, needed to believe they shared a connection deeper than just sex—she’d deal with her reality and their limitations later, but now, fuck, she wanted to believe they belonged together.
She loosened her shoulders, her arms, and managed to flex her legs. He waited, then continued the sweet torment, inching more of himself into her, slowly but surely. He planted a kiss on her shoulder, the caress warming her flesh, distracting her. Then he inserted more of his rod, and she hissed.
A quick, sharp ache stung through her. Cold sweat sheened her limbs, and she blinked, willing herself to relax. Even though he took his time, the invasion hurt her, and her walls tingled in a different way than before. She let out a whimpering sound.
“Amaya,” he said, moving off of her. The contours of his face hardened, his eye
s darkening with concern and regret. “I hurt you.” He sat on the bed and stretched out his hand. His palm felt cool and clammy like never before.
She crossed her legs one over the other, still recovering from the achy sensation in her most intimate spot. Rubbing her eyes, she inhaled. Holy crap. “I’ve ruined this,” she said out loud. Clearly, she must have made some pretty awful expression, otherwise he wouldn’t have stopped altogether.
She reached for him, but he withdrew, lifting his palm in denial. “I’m sorry.”
When he looked at her, the sadness in his eyes shot through her soul and gave her a different kind of pain. What had happened to him? “It’s my fault. You weren’t ready.”
“I was ready and I am.” She ignored his cue and touched his arm, clasping it, making him look her square in the eye. “I want you inside me, Theo. I’ve heard that it hurts anyway when you have sex for the first time. So why is this so different? I’ll get over it after the initial ache.”
He ran his fingers down his face, then shook his head, studying her closely. “Maybe I wasn’t ready. Don’t get me wrong, I want you more than anything, sweet Amaya. But the other time I bedded a virgin, I hurt her, and when I was coming inside you, I saw her face.”
Her heart leaped to her throat, where a tight knot formed, pulsing quickly. Was he still in love with a woman from his past? A woman he couldn’t have? She pulled up the sheet, covering her body in a silly self-preservation move. “Tell me about her,” she demanded, emotion carrying her voice. Jealousy moved through her, making her feel ashamed and wrong.
Smiling, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, his touch so tender, she sighed. “I will. Just not right now. We will have sex.”
She shrugged, unable to hide her disappointment. “Just not right now?”
“No. I want to be focused one hundred percent on you when it happens. That’s what you deserve.”
“All right,” she managed to say lightly, even though doubts pounded in her chest. She opened her mouth to ask him if he still loved the woman he hurt, but hesitated. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she’d like his answer.
Chapter Seven
“There he is. We finally see you. Where have you been?” Bacchus Rhodes said in that lively tone so typical of him.
It was nice to see that even though his father had started to experience health problems recently due to high cholesterol and blood pressure, his spirits were still high.
Theo glanced around his parents’ living room. Every Saturday, a couple dozen of the Rhodes family had lunch at his father’s place, and even the generous amount of cousins and longtime friends of the family didn’t threaten to crowd the spacious area. With French doors leading to the terrace overlooking the sea, the place always looked spotless and the hosts always ready to entertain.
If only he could have brought Amaya. A stab of guilt bothered him, and he scratched his shoulder where she had touched him the previous night. Damn it. This morning, she’d understood when he’d said he had a commitment he couldn’t miss. After their failed attempt to have sex, they’d slept together. Sharing a bed with her had been better than expected, and he’d almost woken her up in the middle of the night to make love. But something held him back. The frown on her face when he’d started inching inside her popped in his head, the vivid memory changing his mind. Maybe we’ll do it when we least expect it. Without much planning.
He supposed he could have skipped the family lunch, but he’d already avoided his father enough during the week and didn’t need to make it worse.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy for your papakis?” Bacchus said, using the word Theo hadn’t used to call his father since he’d turned into a teenager. “Your mom is in the kitchen, and I invited Viskos today.”
Frustration tensed his shoulders, and he stretched to his full height. “Why?” he asked, though he knew his father and Faustus Viskos, Talia’s father, probably wanted to resume these get-togethers to start talks of wedding plans. From the start, Theo had insisted he wanted nothing more than a quick arrangement at the courthouse, and Talia had agreed. Why pretend they were sharing a loving marriage based on mutual affection for each other and have family and friends witness?
“Why not? They haven’t been over in a few months, and now you’re marrying Talia—”
“Not for another couple months,” he said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.
“It’ll go by quickly. You’ll see. We’ll get control of our company again, and you’ll be tied to the best family in the country.” And everyone would live happily ever after. Everyone but him, and probably Talia.
Acid spilled into his stomach. He’d always wondered if Talia hated the agreement as much as he did, not that it made any difference. He’d never made a promise he hadn’t kept—and he wasn’t going to start breaking them now.
Still, the image of Amaya unraveled in his mind, even as he walked and tuned out whatever his father said. The previous night hadn’t ended the way he envisioned, but he treasured the moments he spent with her. A smile curled his lips, and a tremor coursed through him, stirring him from top to bottom. Amaya made him…feel things, things about the ordinary stuff he never thought about. He wanted more of those things. Hell, he needed more of her. Right now. Why not? He’d spend the rest of his life tied to a pragmatic marriage. “Actually, I dropped by to say hello. I have other things to do and can’t stay.”
“What? You’ve just arrived,” Bacchus said.
“Yeah. I’ll say hello to Mom. Then I’m out.”
Bacchus scratched his chin. “Why? What am I going to say to Viskos and Talia? I told them you’d be here.”
“Tell them I’m busy. I’m not married yet. I don’t owe anyone explanations,” he said and marched into the kitchen.
Even though a cook minded the heavy-duty stuff, his mother still oversaw everything, wearing an apron to prevent staining her nice dress.
“My darling,” she said, setting the pot on the counter and rushing to give him a hug. “It’s so nice to see you. How are you?” she asked in a sweet voice she’d managed to keep even after decades of a very pragmatic marriage. His heart squeezed a little, and he didn’t know why. He’d always thought of his parents as a united front from a strong marriage.
“I’m good.” He kissed her cheek. “Wanted to say hello before I head out.”
A glint of surprise came into her hazel eyes. “Already?”
“Yeah, I have some stuff to do.”
“They are coming,” she said, nudging his elbow. “I scheduled a lunch with Talia next week to get to know her better.”
“Seems like you’re invested in getting to know her better than me.”
She glanced around, then stepped closer, tilting her head to the side. “Shhh. Don’t say that, my darling. She’ll be your wife soon. Why don’t you take her out?”
Frustration clogged his throat. If it had been his father making the suggestion, he could have been a lot more abrasive, but his kind mother didn’t get it. It had been instilled in her to make a good, prosperous marriage since childhood.
He kissed the top of his mother’s head, squeezing her shoulders. “When I take Talia on a date, it’ll be my decision.”
“Of course. I’m reminding you—”
“I don’t need memos. Trust me, I know a thing or two about keeping a woman interested.”
She lifted her hand to her chest. “That’s exactly my fear, honey. That you are keeping someone else interested. When I called your place the other day, Valda mentioned a guest.” She continued in a low voice. “An American woman.”
“I’m an adult. I don’t have to give anyone explanations about my personal life. Don’t worry, when the time comes, I’ll marry Talia and live up to your expectations.”
She sighed. “Of course. Thank you.”
“I need to go,” he said. Back to the American woman.
Theo glanced around the horde of tourists strolling through the narrow s
treets of Plaka, the historic neighborhood located at the base of the hill topped by the Acropolis.
Filled with tourist trap souvenir shops, restaurants, and the like, he usually avoided the area like the plague. When he’d texted Amaya half an hour earlier, asking about her whereabouts, she’d mentioned the area.
Now, he searched for her beautiful face and sinful body among the people coming and going as he made his way down the hilly streets. A few vendors shouted, offering him items he simply ignored.
He fished his cell from his pocket, ready to call her again and find out her exact location. A thrill shot through him.
He was about to slide his finger across the screen when he spotted a swoosh of brown hair in between a couple of older ladies talking to the employee in the shop on the sidewalk. Amaya.
Without wasting time, he rushed to her with long, powerful strides. His heart raced in tandem with his steps, anticipation thrumming in his veins. The different languages spoken around him fell into the background, and when he was within a few feet from her, she turned around and glanced at him.
The minute their eyes met, an invisible punch hit his gut. He stiffened, his entire body painfully aware of her presence. It was as if they were old lovers, reuniting after a long time apart.
“I thought you were busy today,” she said.
He cleared his throat. “I needed a break.” A break from reality, and from his dooming future.
“Does this mean you get to stroll around with me?” She batted her eyelids in a playful move.
“Yeah.”
“Good. I was getting lonely.” She offered her arm, and he looped his in hers like some old-fashioned couple. A strange wave of affection washed over him. That’s only sexual attraction, he reminded himself. He’d experienced an extreme case of blue balls and needed compensating for the time without screwing. The more he kept his reality in check, the better.
…
“I don’t know about this hat,” Amaya said, lifting a straw hat from the shelf. “I can’t pull it off.”
Auctioned to the Greek Billionaire (The Highest Bidder Book 1) Page 6