“Join us,” she commanded.
“You’re holding my hands, cara,” he reminded her.
She released his right hand and raised herself as he positioned himself against her. Moving his hand to her hip, he steadied her as she sunk slowly down onto him.
“I’ll have that hand back now.” Natalie reached for it and brought it back up and placed it beside his ear. He lay stretched out beneath her as docile as a pet lion. The feeling of control was exhilarating and Natalie reveled in it as she raised herself a few inches off his rigid length and sheathed herself again, but she was aware that a pet lion could be controlled only if it wanted to be.
She held Stephano’s gaze as she repeated the tantalizing movement, increasing the circling motion of her hips as her arousal gained momentum.
“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” Stephano groaned and pulled her down for a long, deep kiss as he started to thrust forcibly upwards. A moment later he took full control, surging upright and clamping his lips around one of her distended nipples as he grasped her hips and moved her up and down his engorged length.
I’ll win the next one, Natalie vowed as she screamed his name and shuddered into her release. But it was almost a tie—her convulsing muscles shattered Stephano’s control and sent him immediately into the throes of his release.
He slowly lowered himself onto the bed, taking her with him.
They lay for a several minutes, their hearts beating in unison, their harsh breathing gradually slowing to normal pace.
Just as Natalie began to wonder if Stephano had fallen to sleep, he whispered in her ear, “Torture me like that one more time, mia bella.”
***
Sitting in the office waiting for Stephano to appear, Natalie felt so happy she was afraid. He had called, as he often did, to say that he was in a taxi on his way back from his meeting and should be in the office in ten minutes. He seemed to miss her when he was away from her as much as she missed him.
It was absurd to be this happy.
It couldn’t last, she knew.
It really couldn’t.
Reaching blindly into her bag for her compact mirror to discreetly check that her face wasn’t shiny, her hand closed around a small cylindrical object that she recognized by touch.
About to release it and continue her search, Natalie’s fingers groped for it again and tightened around it reflexively. Something had been at the back of her subconscious mind trying to make itself known for days, but she had been so caught up in Stephano and the sheer bliss of being loved by him, she hadn’t taken the time to be still and listen.
The object in her hand triggered the message and she received loud and clear—she hadn’t had a period since she and Stephano had had that heated, very reckless encounter.
Horrified, Natalie stood up and walked to the bathroom with as much dignity as she could muster. Once she got there her knees threatened to give out. Stumbling into the first of the two cubicles, she locked the door and sat heavily down on the closed lid, leaning weakly against the wall for support.
A missed period didn’t mean pregnancy, but Natalie had a sinking feeling that for her, it did. There had been other signs which she’d ignored. Her breasts felt heavier and just the week before she’d tried on one of her closer-fitting suits and found it uncomfortably snug. She had changed clothing, promising herself to eat less the next time Stephano cooked his fabulous spaghetti and meatballs, or his decadently rich lasagna. She had missed a couple of Boxercise classes in the last weeks, but she had probably burned just as many calories making love with Stephano, so that didn’t explain the weight gain.
It was all too soon.
She’d wanted to be a little more sure of Stephano’s love, to know that he was with her because he loved her and not because he had to be. New love was always so blinding it hid the cracks in a relationship. It was only when the shiny newness wore off that the flaws became apparent. Stephano spent a lot of time at her home, but she hadn’t suggested that he move in. She was grateful that he hadn’t suggested it because the request would have been a hard one to refuse. It was a technicality really since he spent as many as three or four nights a week with her, but she felt better knowing he was only sleeping over. She’d never wanted to be, or have, a live-in lover. It was an old-fashioned view, but she liked the idea of having the commitment of a marriage—though it didn’t mean much these days with celebrities getting married and divorced in a matter of days.
If she was pregnant it would change everything. She wouldn’t want to go through a pregnancy on her own—not that Stephano would let her. He had already said that he was ready to be a father; he would want to be involved. They had been ultra careful after that first fateful time, but it seemed like everything else in their relationship, this was out of their hands.