He removed the dildo from her and stood behind her. Before she spoke, he placed her on the edge of the bed, her hands splayed against the linens, her ass in the air for his enjoyment. “You’re delicious, Amaya. I can’t get enough of you.”
“Then don’t.” She turned her face partially, peering at him. Flecks of silver flashed in the depths of his black irises, and she would have given anything to know their meaning. She quivered, not sure if it was because of the powerful orgasm from moments earlier or because of the crazy desire he evoked in her. When she glanced down at the bed linens, she heard the sound of him opening the tube and squirting some lube on his fingers. This was it. She knew it, and her heart skipped a beat.
To her surprise, he didn’t touch her ass immediately. First, he planted kisses on her shoulder, completely disarming her, making it hard to focus. Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took, her breasts full and heavy. She propped her elbows on the mattress, leaning for more support. He didn’t let go of her, licking the outer shell of her ear, as goose bumps rose on her flesh. She could smell her musky scent on his breath, and the fact he’d tasted every part of her so willingly turned her on even more.
“I don’t know how long I can wait, love.” He nipped the back of her neck, and her entire scalp sizzled with awareness.
“I’m ready,” she said in a voice raspier than usual and arched her ass to him for good measure.
He parted her cheeks with his palm, coating her with the lube, then made circular movements around her tight ring. He rubbed the thick head of his cock into her hole, pressing some of his dick in, gently. She sucked in a deep breath, preparing for the discomfort to come.
“I want you so much,” Theo said in a low voice. He peppered more kisses on her neck and shoulders, reactivating all those sparks of desire in her. She relaxed, loosening her legs, and he took advantage by entering more of himself in her. A discomfort stole her breath away. He’d touched her there with his fingers, but his thick cock was obviously a different story.
He cupped her breasts with both hands, and she whimpered, loving the feel of his strong fingers caressing her tits. “Every part of you. I. Want.”
Dios, she wanted to give him every part of her. Including her heart.
He played with her nipple, catching it between his thumb and index finger and squeezing it a little. A current of warmth moved through her, from top to bottom, heating up when it lasered through her cunt. Her clit throbbed in response, and her entire body became a bundle of oversensitive nerves ready to burst.
Swiftly, he continued to fill her asshole. Each time he added an inch, he distracted her with kisses, fondling her breasts, dirty talking. Excited, she moved one of his hands from her breast down to her pussy. She needed him to see how soaking wet he made her.
He groaned, and once inside her all the way, began moving his cock. The friction of him exploring her hole then withdrawing, only to plunge in again, set her nerves on fire. He cupped her pussy, his fingers scissoring her folds, teasing her clit.
Then he thrust two fingers into her slick heat, and removed them, and lifted them to her lips. “Taste the cream that drives me crazy,” he said.
She opened her mouth and darted out her tongue, licking her essence off his fingers, savoring the hint of tangy and female arousal. He slipped his fingers past her lips and she sucked them, much like she’d done to his cock so many times. The deed must have triggered a visceral, primal response in him because he let out an animalistic sound she’d never heard, and placed both hands at her waist, his fingers biting into her sides.
He pulled out his cock, then slammed inside her, harder than before. She moaned loud, loving how he filled her, stuffed her as if nothing could come between them. A lie, she knew, but one she didn’t have to face right now when in his arms, under his command, their bodies practically glued to one another.
She rocked her hips into his cock, and he got the message—she was ready for more. Hell, for all of it. With another guttural sound, he intensified his claim of her, ramming in and out of her. Each time, deeper—stronger.
He fucked her until her heart leaped up her throat, her pulse beating madly in her neck and temples. The climax building inside her overpowered her a lot quicker than any other times she’d made love to him—a volcanic-like sensation flooded her through her, relentlessly, recklessly. Her entire body trembled, hot, sweaty and spent.
Exhausted, she stretched out her arms, face falling into the linens. She barely registered when he lifted her ass one more time, to secure his own release, and gave her one last thrust—and soon, she heard his growl, felt him shuddering behind her as he poured his seed into her.
When he dropped next to her, they both looked at each other, and slid down the bed to the floor.
Chapter Sixteen
Amaya was brushing her hair when the doorbell rang. Since her arrival in Athens three weeks ago, she’d become more and more accustomed to the routine. She missed home, of course, missed her brother and Samantha, but enjoyed her temporary life in Greece.
She glanced around, searching for Theo. He must be working out in the downstairs state-of-the-art gym. The ring continued, and she placed the square brush on the dresser. She tied up her robe and left her bedroom.
Even though she’d slept in his bedroom at night, she’d kept her clothes and personal items in hers. That gave her a reminder some things should continue separate. When his mother had so successfully told her about Theo’s marriage, she decided to enjoy the time she had with him while she could. Melancholy tightened her middle section like a Spanx whenever she thought about her impending doom. One more week and their deal would come to an end.
Neither of them spoke about making arrangements for her departure. Maybe it’s easier that way.
She walked down the stairs and raced to open the door. When she did, a man in his late sixties with olive skin and expressive dark eyes greeted her in Greek. Bacchus Rhodes, Theo’s father.
“Hello,” she said, immediately forgetting the expressions she’d learned in his language. She hadn’t entered his room in the hospital, but recognized him from pictures. “Please come in.”
She stepped back and gestured for him to walk inside. “Would you like to talk to Theo?”
“My wife told me you went to the hospital and gave my son the…” He hesitated, then glanced around and cocked his head to one side. “…comfort he needed when I was at the hospital.”
“What I did was very little compared to what she did. I heard, she never left your side.”
He gave her a measured smile. “Thank you.”
A little seed of hope grew inside her. What if his parents weren’t so bad after all? They’d always wanted the best for him, in their opinion. Sure, in the United States, parents didn’t meddle in their adult children’s lives this much, but maybe the Rhodes had well-meaning intentions even if she disagreed with their tactics.
“Anything to drink?” she asked.
“Father,” Theo said, joining them. Surprise flickered in his eyes for a second, but he quickly composed himself and casually nodded at his father. Theo’s hair was still damp from what she imagined had been a strenuous workout session, a tank top and black shorts showing his hot body. “What brought you here?”
Bacchus answered in Greek, then quickly blinked and switched to English. “I wanted to talk to you. Now I’m up for it. I apologize if I’m being indiscreet, but there are no secrets between family.” His father gave her a long glance, then his gaze darted back at Theo. “Talia’s father called me yesterday. He’s ready to set a date.”
Her blood turned into frozen custard. Shit. She shouldn’t be part of this conversation, by any means. She wasn’t family. Yet, panic stilled her in place, keeping her from willing her body to move.
Theo squared his shoulders, responding in Greek, and she didn’t need to speak the language to detect the curtness in his voice.
“I should leave you two alone,” she butted in, touching Theo’s elb
ow. Why stay and make things worse? His father nodded at her. He probably didn’t like this situation any more than she did, yet it needed to be done. She chewed on her lower lip.
Theo put his hand around her waist. “No, stay,” he said in a bossy tone. He drew in a breath and looked at his father. “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry Talia. I was waiting until you recovered to have this conversation.”
His father’s eyes widened. Then he withdrew and shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”
Her heart twisted in her chest. The promise she’d made to his mother stabbed at her, but she hadn’t done anything to convince Theo to cancel his agreement to marry Talia. Did that count? Confused, she tried to move away from him, but Theo tightened his hold on her. “I am. I’ll meet with Talia myself and talk to her about my decision. It’s the least I can do. I understand I’m letting you down, but I’ll have to live with it.”
“What about the stocks? If there’s no marriage, we won’t get power over the company. Horace will still rule,” his father said, agitating his hands.
“Not if we stop him. It’s a long shot, sure, but one I’m willing to take to get him prosecuted.”
His father paced the area around them, rubbing his forehead. “It’ll never happen, son. Even if it does, that doesn’t mean his supporters will sell their share to us. Hell, he can still keep his stocks even in jail—all he needs is someone else to manage them.”
Jail? What the hell were they talking about? She pulled away from Theo’s hold, eager to get a grip on the conversation. “Your uncle may go to jail?” She’d heard about his uncle’s wrongdoings, but if he’d been caught mishandling money or making any other illicit business decisions, why hadn’t Theo mentioned it to her?
His father’s expression sobered, and he massaged his temple. “She doesn’t know, does she?” he said, enunciating the pronoun, gesturing at her.
Is he talking about me? Amaya cleared her throat. A feeling of dread brewed in her stomach, unsettling it. She turned to Theo, who looked away from her. “What is he talking about?”
Theo peered at her, the muscle on his jaw jumping. “I’ll explain to you later.”
“All right,” she said, touching her belly to will away the nausea. He’d told her his uncle Horace was rumored to be stealing from the company and worse. Maybe he’d finally pay for his transgressions.
But, if that was the case, why couldn’t Theo’s father accept Theo’s decision to not marry Talia?
The question sank in her, and she swallowed. He’s not marrying her anymore. She’d been so overwhelmed with the argument, she hadn’t given that nugget of information much thought. Was it because of her? Or was it because Theo had realized he didn’t want to marry anyone period—he preferred to continue to be a bachelor.
Anxiety ran through her. She fidgeted with the tie of her robe, too restless to keep composure. Would there be a chance for them? His mother would never approve of her, even if Theo did.
“This marriage has been arranged for a long time, son. You know what’s involved. As lovely as your friend is,” his father said, making a hand gesture in her direction, “it would be a shame to put an end to what could be a perfect union because of an impulse.”
Theo lifted his eyebrow, his face hardening. “Trust me, it’s not an impulse.”
“I beg you to take some time to think on it. I met with the international lawyer I told you about, and he said it’ll be very hard to find evidence and to extradite your uncle.”
“We’ll see.”
Bacchus stood in front of him, perching his hand on his waist. “What do you mean, you’ll see? He didn’t commit murder in Athens, for crying out loud. He did it across the world. No wonder he never traveled there again. Do you understand the time needed to get wheels in motion?”
“Wait. Murder?” She glanced at Theo’s profile, this time not willing to let the bullshit go. If he insisted she stay, he had to fill her in.
His father lifted an eyebrow. “You better tell her. I’ll go on my way and leave you two alone.”
“Tell me what?” She straightened her shoulders, folding her arms over her chest.
Theo ran his fingers down his face. A pang of regret darkened his eyes to a matte black, and she angled closer, curiosity lumping in her throat. Whatever secret he’d kept from her, it seemed big. Too big.
“Horace, my uncle, was the driver who killed your parents.”
…
“Your uncle?”
Theo shortened the gap between them, but she stepped away, covering her mouth. Fuck. He could tell his father hadn’t meant to mention it as a cheap shot, but what option did Theo have but to finally tell her? With one week left with Amaya, he didn’t want to spoil their time together. He’d avoided the subject—but now, he owed her the truth.
She held the arm of the chair before sitting down, her eyes glossy. “How did it happen?”
“Horace said it was an accident. He used to travel to Vegas once a month to meet with big-shot business partners, and during one of those trips, he had too much to drink one night.”
Amaya crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. “As rich as your uncle is, he didn’t think of calling a cab?”
“I’m not justifying his actions.” Hell, as far as he knew, he wasn’t even sure it was an accident. But then again, why would his uncle kill strangers on purpose? Probably in his shallow mindset, their lives didn’t mean much because they weren’t famous or rich. Still, it’d be irresponsible and it’d cost people’s lives. “It’s his fault.”
“When did you find out?” she asked, her voice wavering.
“A couple weeks ago, by accident. I caught him speaking with someone on the phone. He doesn’t know how you and I met, so he thought I brought you here for revenge.”
She looked away from him, threading her fingers together and shifting in the seat. She exuded nervous energy, and his instinct was to rush to her and embrace her until she calmed down. Hell, until he calmed down. He flexed and unflexed his fingers.
“It’s a small world. What are the chances?” she said in a low voice.
“Well, slim. With him not traveling to Vegas anymore, I was the one filling his place,” he said. Bile floated up his throat, and he swallowed it hard. His uncle had fucked up in a major way—and he must have ensured whatever traces could lead to him had been deleted.
Her gaze collided with his, pain flashing in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His gut tightened, as if a skilled street fighter punched him. “Because I wanted to have a solution first, and it’s not an easy thing to say to someone.”
“Solution? He killed my parents.”
“I understand, but it’s more complicated than that. It’ll be a long process to prosecute him and get him arrested. He’s not an American citizen. Besides—”
She stood, the planes of her face hard and stern. Never had he seen her so angry—or hurt. His family had ended hers. The reality sat a weight on his heart. How could he think this wouldn’t matter one day? “Besides, it probably wasn’t good for business to get him arrested, right? While on a work trip. The president of the empire you want to save. The empire you want to run.”
“Of course I kept this in mind, but—”
She lifted her hand in disagreement. “No. I can’t do this.”
A flicker of apprehension coursed through him. “Do what?”
A blend of anger and disappointment lit her eyes. “You. You didn’t tell me because that would make things harder for you.”
He leaned closer, but she stepped back. “I was trying to protect—”
“You were protecting yourself and your interests. When it comes down to it, you’re no different than your uncle. Maybe your words are more diplomatic, but in the action department, you’re lacking.”
“I just told my father I’m not marrying Talia,” he said, his voice losing energy in the end. What if she had a point? Hadn’t he chosen the most convenient route? He’d intended on accusing his u
ncle and making him pay, but how could she believe him?
The golden specks of regret in her brown irises matched the sadness in her voice. “Which means jack now that I found out you’d have kept the truth about my parents’ death from me. After all, if you have dirt on your uncle, you can use it against him. You don’t have to marry Talia anymore to get those stocks. So, you don’t get to be the hero who saves the day.”
“Amaya…” he started, unsure about how to finish it. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he’d not only managed to hurt her, he’d also…lose her.
She took a step forward. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them off before they fell down her cheeks. “I want to go home. Now. You have one week left, and if you want to discount it from the total amount, please do it. I can’t stay here one more minute.”
Chapter Seventeen
A week later…
“Hi. Where’s Diego?” Samantha asked when Amaya opened the door for her.
“He’s in his room painting. I told him you’d be here for therapy,” Amaya said, moving a couple of boxes out of the way. “Coffee?”
Samantha lifted the Starbucks cup in her hand. “You’re too late.”
Amaya sighed. “I could have used one.”
Samantha made a face. “Sorry. I was running from one job to the next. By the way, what are you doing messing with these boxes? Shouldn’t you pay for someone now you’re Ms. Money Pants?”
Amaya rubbed the back of her neck. She knew her friend teased her, but the mention of the money always put her at unease. Money had provided so much for her—and it also linked her to the man who didn’t give her mind a break. Her heart tightened.
She hadn’t been able to sleep since she’d left Theo. Not during the flight he found for her, not after she’d arrived home. She missed his arms around her, his smell, his smile.
Samantha grabbed Diego from his room and reappeared in the living area. “We’re going for a walk. Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”
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