A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir(17)

Lowering his head to the nape of her neck, Vin brushed the red tendrils  of her hair aside and kissed her, his lips lingering sensually on her  skin.



Scarlett felt the brush of Vin's lips against the sensitive skin of her  neck, and it was like lightning sizzling through her. All peace  disappeared.

The water's temperature had cooled, and more alarmingly, the bubbles had  diminished, no longer providing camouflage. Her breasts were entirely  visible now, gleaming wet and flicked with only a few tiny bubbles like  decorative pearls. Her hard nipples were rosy beneath the water.

"Scarlett, look at me," Vin said in a low, savage voice.

She had no choice but to obey. Tilting her head, she looked at his  handsome face. Her eyes unwillingly traced his half-naked body, his  thickly muscled chest, the trail of dark hair that led downward from his  belly to the low waistline of his dark gray sweatpants, and below  that...!

Even in the soft candlelight, she could see the outline of him, huge and  hard for her. Involuntarily, she sucked in her breath with a whimper.

"I want you," he growled.

She swallowed. She wanted him, too, desperately. But she was afraid of  what would happen if she surrendered to him completely. Would it be the  start of a wonderful, loving, lifelong marriage? Or would it be the  beginning of a lifetime of misery?

He was physically perfect. While she... She glanced back at her own body  and her cheeks burned self-consciously. "But I'm so big..."

"Yes. You are." His hand reached down to cup a pregnancy-swollen breast,  as if feeling the weight. It overflowed his hand as he tightened his  fingers around an aching nipple. "And I want you as I've never wanted  any woman."

The pleasure of his touch was so sharp and raw it made her gasp.   





 

Lowering his head, he kissed her, his lips hot and smooth as silk. Fire  flooded through her. She kissed him back, water sloshing around her as  she placed her hand against his cheek.

"Oh, Vin," she breathed. "I want you, too..."

And she kissed him recklessly.

Abruptly, his arms plunged into the bathtub. Reaching around her, he  lifted her naked, wet body from the cool water, carrying her against his  hard bare chest as if she weighed nothing at all. He slowly set her  down to stand in front of him, her naked body sliding against his,  before her feet reluctantly touched the white fluffy rug.

She was eight and a half months pregnant, and standing naked in front of  him. She was so heavy. How could he want her? How could any man find  her sexy, let alone Vin Borgia, who was so handsome and powerful he  could have had any woman on earth?

But he didn't love her. She shivered. If she surrendered now, would she regret it for the rest of her life?

"You're cold," he murmured. Grabbing an enormous white cotton towel, he gently wrapped her in it.

But she wasn't shivering from cold. Swallowing, she looked up at him, her heart in her throat.

"I'm not exactly your usual supermodel," she said, trying for levity, but her voice trembled around the edges.

"No. You're not." He ran his hands gently through her hair, loosening  the topknot so the damp waves tumbled down her shoulders. "There is  nothing usual about you, Scarlett. You are special. The most beautiful,  resourceful, kindhearted woman I've ever known." Holding the towel, he  pulled her closer. "But that's not why I want you in my bed."

"It's not?"

He shook his head. "My need for you is far more primitive than that."  His fingertips traced the bare skin lightly from her collarbone to the  hollow between her breasts. "You're in my blood, Scarlett." His voice  lowered almost to a growl. "You belong to me, and I intend to have you."

The moment stretched out between them, threatening to snap.

Belong to him?

She couldn't belong to him.

Not when he didn't belong to her. He didn't love her, and she didn't know if he ever would.

Panic rose from her heart to her throat. "No-"

Ripping the towel from his grasp, she turned and fled, practically slamming the door behind her.

In the bedroom, she beat the world record for finding her oversize  T-shirt and cotton panties in a drawer. Within thirty seconds, she was  tucked into the enormous bed, the heavy bedcovers pulled tightly to her  neck.

The bedroom was dark. Her heartbeat drummed in her throat as she waited  for Vin to come out of the bathroom. What did she hope to achieve by  hiding in this bed? They were sharing the room. He'd just have to sleep  on the sofa by the window, she thought.

But Vin Borgia didn't seem like the kind of man who would politely take  himself off to sleep on the sofa. Not when he'd made such a ruthless  declaration.

You've in my blood, Scarlett. You belong to me, and I intend to have you.

She jolted when she heard the door abruptly open, causing a trickle of  light across the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard him blow  out the candles in the bathroom, one by one. Then silence.

"Go sleep on the sofa!" she tried to say, but her voice wouldn't work.  She heard the echo of heavy footsteps coming toward her. They stopped.

The mattress beneath her swayed. She felt his warmth, breathed in the  scent of sandalwood. Nervously, she scooted to the other side of the  enormous king-size bed. Her heart was pounding. Part of her yearned  desperately for him to reach out and pull her into his arms-but she was  oh, so afraid of giving him complete power over her!

He reached for her in the darkness, and without a word, slowly, he  turned her to face him. She felt his fingertips tantalizingly trail the  edge of her hair, her shoulder, her hip.

His hand cupped her full breast, his palm moving against her aching  nipple through her thin white cotton T-shirt. His other hand moved  lingeringly over the curve of her belly, moving lower, and lower still.  She felt something pressing hard against her and realized he was naked.

Tension coiled deep inside her, a sweet ache of need that was starting to build beyond her control.

She'd thought she knew desire from their first night together, their  night of escape and exploration and discovery. But this was something  else. Something else entirely.

Pregnancy hormones had given a fierce edge to her sexual need that she'd  never experienced before. Or maybe it was because she now wore his ring  on her finger, she was sleeping in his bed, she was pregnant with his  child and soon would be his wife.
   





 
She wanted him. She wanted this. All of it. A home with warmth and  comfort. A family. But most of all she wanted something impossible: she  wanted him to love her...

She pulled back, struggling to see his face in the darkness. Her eyes  adjusted, and the scattered moonlight from behind the window blinds  silhouetted the hard edges of his cheekbones and jawline with silver.

Could he ever love her? Or was he just seducing her into marriage, for the sake of their baby?

She yearned to ask but didn't have the courage. Instead, she whispered, "Kiss me."

She heard his intake of breath, then felt the hard, sweet taste of his mouth on hers.

He kissed her for minutes-or hours-until her cheeks felt abraded from  the roughness of the dark bristles on his jawline. His mouth was hungry  and hard, pushing her lips apart as he teased her with his tongue. She  clutched his shoulders, electrified by the heat of his hard naked body,  the strength and size of him against her. She gripped him tight as his  hands roamed possessively over the curves of her breasts and thighs.

Breaking the kiss, he pushed her back against the bed and slowly kissed  down her body, stroking her full breasts and the mound of her belly and  her voluptuous hips through her thin cotton T-shirt until he knelt at  the foot of the bed. Spreading her feet apart, he caressed the hollows  of her feet, the tender skin of her ankle.

Then he started moving upward. He kissed and caressed her calves. He  kissed her knees, and the hollows beneath them, with a sensual flick of  his tongue. Moving inexorably toward her thighs, he pushed her T-shirt  up to her hips, leaving her cotton panties exposed.

Stroking the outside of her thighs, he positioned his head between them, and she started to shake.

Using his large hands to spread her legs wide, he kissed and nibbled her  inner thighs. His breath warmed her skin, causing prickles of heat and  furious desire to spread like wildfire through her body.

He teased her, kissing her softly with little flicks of his tongue along  the edge of her panties. He cupped her mound over the thin cotton,  rubbing the most sensitive part of her with his palm, leaving her  gasping with need.

Her hands gripped the bedsheet as her hips moved of their own accord, swaying beneath his touch.

He slowly pulled her cotton panties down the length of her legs, in a  whisper of sensation. She held her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as he  moved back to her.

Placing his large hands on her inner thighs, he lowered his head. She  felt his hot breath full against her, teasing her, and she quivered  beneath him.

Spreading her wide, he took a long, languorous taste.

She gave a soft cry at the immediate wave of pleasure. It was almost too  much. She tried to twist her hips away, but he held her more firmly  against the bed.