Wife By Force(31)
She'd needed the swim to cool herself off.
Because, dammit, the man showed no signs of lust. Not one iota.
His one look at their wedding reception hadn't been only her imagination and she hadn't dreamed of his need in the garden. He wanted her.
He was just hiding behind his bloody mask.
If he would kiss her, take her, then she could ignore his irritating attitude. At least for a while. Why didn't he throw her on the bed and make it happen? Instead, he was distantly courteous, talking about dinner and resting. Why couldn't he be like every other groom and get right down to business?
Sighing, she splashed to the other side of the pool where an underwater bench provided rest. He didn't jump her because he saw her as a possession, something to be taken when he got around to it. She was a means to an end. He would do his duty, at some point, and that would be that.
How depressing.
But she would ignore that. Ignore everything except what was important. She wanted to have sex with him. Somehow, some way, she was going to have to get him to act, get him to take her to bed.
A virgin seducing an experienced man.
A clutch of fear mixed with anticipation made her stare into the depths of the turquoise water in distress.
"Lara."
His deep voice jerked her attention away from the contemplation of the aqua waves. He stood at the edge of the pool, barefoot, his silk shirt damp. The blue fabric lovingly clung to his heavy shoulders and strong arms. The expression on his face was fierce, intent.
She shivered in the water.
Perhaps she wouldn't have to make the first move after all. Apparently, her new husband had suddenly remembered what a honeymoon was supposed to be about.
Dante's stare pinned her in the water. She watched with helpless fascination as his hands moved to the top of his shirt and began to unbutton.
One button. His strong neck and collarbone glistened with sweet sweat.
Two. The curve of his pectorals was taut and clear. A faint wisp of black hair shadowed his muscles, hinting at his masculine virility.
Her breathing escalated.
Three. The wisp of hair became a band, an arrow pointing down to the beginning of his abdomen. Her nipples hardened beneath the slow lap of the water.
Four. He jerked the edges of his shirt out of his pants and parted the fabric, uncovering his small, brown nipples, tight and drawn. Dark hair swirled around them and her mouth watered.
Five. His shirt slipped totally open, revealing his firm stomach, the deep darkness of his navel, the beginning of his hip bone. Black hair graced the flat planes of his lower abdomen. She sucked in a sharp breath and pressed her back to the cool tile, stifling the desire to grab him and pull him into the water so she could touch.
Slipping the silk shirt off, he threw it on a wicker chair, while keeping his hot gaze pinned to her face.
Lara swallowed hard. Avoiding his stare, she allowed herself the pleasure of looking her fill. His shoulders were heavy with muscle, his biceps cut and clean. His broad chest tapered down to a tight waist, not an ounce of extra flesh hiding the musculature of a man in his prime. Clearly, her husband did not spend all his time behind a desk. She truly could just stare at him for the rest of the night.
Dante had other ideas.
His hands moved to his belt.
Nearly gasping, she sank farther into the water, covering her mouth so she wouldn't embarrass herself by groaning out loud her desire. Every thought of irritating male attitudes, disturbing control issues, or aggravating commands disappeared like smoke in a windstorm. His deft hands unbuckled the leather belt and slipped it off his pants.
The belt landed with a slap on the discarded shirt.
He looked down as he unbuttoned his pants. The dark slash of his eyelashes hid his penetrating gaze and she took the opportunity to stare at the arch of his brow, the sharp line of his jaw, the slight hook of his large nose. She detected the beginning of the shadow of a beard edging his neck and cheeks. He wasn't pretty, he was arresting: commanding, dominant, overpowering. All primal male, oozing testosterone from every pore. The pull of him drew her like a strong magnet, calling to every feminine instinct.
The zip of his pants crackled across the stillness of the dusk.
He glanced at her, a slight smile curling on the edge of his lips. The man knew he had her full attention. Her hands clasped beneath the water and she attempted a frown. His smile grew as he pushed the clothing off.
His black silk boxers went with them.
She gasped out loud. There was no help for it.
The last remnant of his clothing slid down, down, to his feet. The sharp edge of his hips melted into heavy thighs, covered with dark hair. He was fully erect, his penis long and arched along his stomach. The impact of him, entirely naked, silhouetted against the darkening sky, blanked her mind. The underwater illumination of the pool and the dim lights of the house highlighted every muscle with loving detail. Her inner muscles clenched and the wetness seeped between her legs that had nothing to do with the water surrounding her.
He stepped out of the clothes and took one pace to the edge of the pool.
His gaze never left hers as he moved down the stairs, the dark blue water slowly covering male flesh inch by inch. Dante swam towards her in easy, lazy strokes, yet the blaze of his eyes told the real story. A marauder, a man, who would not be denied.
A trembling began deep inside. A flurry of trepidation mixed with anticipation.
Sitting still was the only thing she could do. No thought entered her head to run or flee or hide. All considerations disappeared other than claiming this man's body. She had to have him. This last month had been endless, excruciating after those moments in the garden. Having him by her, but never beside her. Having him near her, but never in her. She'd begun to think he didn't want her.
But he did. Obviously.
And she wanted him.
Even though she was scared.
Scared of being a virgin. Scared of her inability to match this man's sexual prowess. Scared of what he'd say if he figured out her secret.
He slipped between her legs and stared into her eyes as he rubbed himself against the softest part of her body. His hands landed by her hips on the stone steps. His shoulder muscles flexed and Lara grabbed onto him, moving her fingers on his hot skin, feeling his muscles as they relaxed, then flexed again.
"Kiss me," he commanded.
She stared into his face, the brightness of his eyes, the long blade of nose, and then the firmness of his upper lip, the surprising lushness of his lower. She could do this. She could seduce him. Pushing away her fears, she moved her hands to his neck, pulling his willing head down and pressing her lips to his.
His big body went rigid and the jump of his erection slid along her inner thigh.
He muttered an expletive before nibbling on her lips. Arching into his broad chest, she reveled in the brush of his coarse hair against her stomach and the beginning of her breasts above her swimsuit.
His tongue slid boldly into her mouth, taking and plundering, sipping and sucking. He tasted of the same spicy mix of lust and desperation-as if he would die if the kiss ended. The kiss called to her, begged her, seduced her. Her tongue slipped across his lower lip and did its own plundering, dancing across the smooth surface of his teeth, and dipping into the depths of his mouth.
"Molto bella," he murmured on her lips. His broad hand moved to cup her breast, rubbing a thumb across the hard crest of her nipple.
Then he stilled and cursed.
"The food." Exasperation ran through his voice.
She jerked upright and pulled away, instantly registering the pounding at the front door. With one last glance, he waded through the water to the steps, climbing from the pool with a swift, sure move, giving her an eye-popping view of taut male butt and broad, muscled back. Wrapping a plush gold towel around his waist, he glanced at her, his black gaze glittering with intensity. "I'll take care of this in record time."
"All right," she croaked.
Dipping her head underwater, Lara struggled to control the heat coursing through her bloodstream. But the only thing she could think about was going back to where they'd been a minute ago and bringing it to its full conclusion. Pulling her brain out of her lust for a moment, she made herself a promise.
She was going to be a partner in this.
She was going to show Dante she was his equal in every way, including sexually.
She might be a virgin, yet she was more than enough woman for this man.
Lifting her head from the water, she heard the deep tones of her husband and another male. The clank of a trolley's wheels rumbled onto the veranda and the clack and clatter of various dishes announced an elaborate meal.