An Heir to Make a Marriage(24)

Instead, he focused on getting her naked. He undid her bra from behind and pushed that over her shoulders too, and then he came close behind her and pulled it down her arms so it fell to the floor.

He cupped her breasts. They were bigger, more beautiful, perfectly shaped. The puckered pink areolae surrounding the nipples were larger too. This evidence of her pregnancy was intensely erotic. He pinched them, softly, and felt Rose quiver against him, sucking in a breath. He kissed her where her neck met her shoulders and the taste of her skin clouded every sense.

When she turned to face him, dislodging his hands, Zac was feeling feral. He yanked off the rest of his clothes and saw Rose push down her dress and underwear until she was fully naked.

On a reflex Zac went to reach for the protection in a drawer by the bed, but then stopped as the realisation dawned on him that he didn’t need it.

He knew that this should actually be making him come to his senses, reminding him of who he was dealing with, but all he could think about was how badly he wanted to sink inside her with no barrier between them.

She was looking at him and he saw uncertainty in her expression. His gaze dropped down, taking in the luscious dips and curves, and one curve in particular: the swell of her belly.

Acting on an impulse he couldn’t ignore, he reached out and touched her there, spreading his hand over the swell. It was still soft...but he could feel the hardness just underneath.

An unknown emotion gripped him, making him feel powerful in a way he’d never experienced before—and also humble. For a crazy moment he wanted to drop to his knees and press his mouth to her there, to wrap his arms tight around her... The desire was so strong that it nearly felled him.

‘Zac...?’

He looked up and the feeling passed. Lust engulfed him. He gave in to it with a sense of relief. ‘Lie back on the bed, Rose.’

The uncertain expression left her face, to be replaced by something more like anticipation. She sat down and Zac put a hand on himself, feeling the drop of moisture at the head of his erection.

But then something dark rose up inside him. He wanted to obliterate what he’d just been feeling and he stepped forward, relishing Rose’s avid gaze on his body.

Just when she’d started to move back to lie on the bed, he said, ‘Wait—I want you to take me in your mouth. Taste me, Rose.’

She looked up at him and he saw the flare in her eyes, along with that uncertainty again. Every cell was crying out for her touch. The beast inside him roared for full release, but he needed this more right now—needed her mouth on him in a classic supplicant pose, as if that might dilute some of the intensity swirling in his gut.

She reached out a tentative hand and he took his own hand away so she could wrap her fingers around him. He sucked in a breath to see that small pale hand around his hard flesh. ‘Stroke me.’ For pity’s sake, he almost howled.

She moved her hand up and down, eyes widening as she saw how he thickened even more. Her thumb swiped over its head, spreading the fluid, and Zac had to bite down on his tongue.

And then, with a quick glance upwards, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth. She was awkward at first, but that, coupled with the knowledge that this was the first time she was doing this was tantamount to having one of the world’s most experienced lovers take him into her expert mouth.

She sucked, stroked and licked until Zac honestly didn’t know how he was still standing. His hands were buried in her hair. He was a heartbeat away from holding her still so he could thrust into her mouth and find his release at last. But there, teetering on the edge, something stopped him.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t demand that she milk him like this...

He pulled free of her mouth and she released him, looking up, eyes unfocused. No woman had ever looked at him like that...as if she’d got off on it too. He gently deposited her in the middle of the bed, coming down beside her, every nerve and cell taut with anticipation.

He spread her legs with one hand, feeling more animal than man, and explored the slick evidence of her readiness. It was all he could do not to thrust in, harder and deeper than he ever had before, but he moved over her, mindful of the vulnerable swell of her belly that impacted upon him somewhere he chose to ignore, and lodged himself between her spread legs. He forced himself to go slowly. It was torture...delicious torture...as inch by inch he felt her hot sheath accept him and clasp him tight.

When he was so deep he could barely breathe, her whole body arched like a bow against his, and she let out a long, low groan.

Zac couldn’t move for a moment. Had anything ever felt so perfect? No. And then he started to move, and perfection was eclipsed.

Rose’s eyes were shut tight as he lifted one of her thighs, hooking her leg around his hip. ‘Look at me,’ Zac demanded.

She opened them, and he willed her to keep looking as he drove into her again and again and again. The intense battle of wills was won when she started raking his back with her nails, her body quivering and shaking against his as she pleaded hoarsely for release.

Only then did Zac unleash the demon inside him, and their worlds collided in a shattering explosion of tension that was almost fearsome in its intensity.

* * *

Hours later Zac sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the dawn breaking over the Tuscan hills, a faint mist clinging to the earth before it would be burned off by the sun.

He felt turned inside out—undone, exposed. There was movement behind him on the bed and he stood up, reaching for his trousers. He heard a sleepy and sexy-sounding, ‘Zac...? Where are you going?’ and knew what he had to do.

He’d let his guard down here in Italy. He’d told Rose too much the other night, and this was proof that given half a chance she would insert herself under his skin until she was in so deep he’d never get her out again.

He turned around. She was raised on one elbow, the sheet barely covering her lush breasts. He recalled how it had felt to drive into that perfect heat and feel the press of her swollen belly against him. Predictably his body responded, and a sense of desperation filled him.

‘I’m not going anywhere—but you are. You’re going back to New York today.’





 CHAPTER NINE

THE IRONY THAT Rose was flying over the land of her parents was not lost on her as she looked out of the plane’s window. Unfortunately she was too high to see anything of the green island, but her heart ached for her mother and her father.

She’d called the clinic soon after Zac’s private plane had taken off and had spoken to her father. The operation was taking place in just over a week—a couple of days after Zac was due back in New York. Her father had sounded in good spirits, and that, at least, was some balm to her ravaged spirit.

Ravaged because she now knew that she’d lost herself body, heart and soul to Zac Valenti. And he didn’t want to know.

He’d stood in front of her that morning and every line of his body had screamed regret for what had happened the previous night. Regret and rejection.

And then she’d made it worse, because her body had still felt the bliss of his touch and she’d foolishly thought that she had to try and reach him...to make him understand. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought that he believed she’d wanted to do this to him.

She’d knelt on the bed, the sheet pulled around her, and said, ‘You have to believe me when I say that I truly never wanted to betray you, Zac.’

His face had assumed that mask of indifference she hated.

‘You say you didn’t want to do it, but you did. So which is it, Rose? I’m not in the mood for riddles.’

The words had trembled on her tongue. She’d ached to blurt out the whole sad and sorry story. To confess about her father... But under that infinitely cold gaze, even while her body had still held the memory of his blazing touch, she’d felt insecure. Unsure. How could he flip so easily between cold and heat? He just wanted her. He didn’t care about her. And she just couldn’t take the risk that he wouldn’t care what happened to her father.

She’d felt defeated and had sunk back down. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she’d said.

Zac had shaken his head. ‘You clearly have an agenda here, Rose, and I know what it is.’

‘You do?’

He nodded. ‘I think you’re going to wait until the baby is born and then you’re going to pit me against my grandmother. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re going to sell my baby to the highest bidder... But you’ll wait until then—until we all know exactly what’s at stake.’

Shock and horror had coursed through her as Zac had paced towards her and his expression had grown even harder. Hard enough to strip away any sense of civility.

‘I’ve already told you I’ll do whatever it takes to bring my child up as a Valenti. And if that means ruining myself in the process, to pay the highest price, I’ll do it. I’ve done it before and I survived. I can do it again.’

Zac had stepped back then, and Rose had felt the very physical wave of his sheer animosity and hatred. Despite last night, nothing had changed. Things were actually worse. He resented her for what he saw as his weakness. A weakness of the flesh. And her heart had contracted into a small ball in her chest, as if that could offer some protection.

Zac had said finally, ‘This is the last discussion we will have on this topic until the baby is born—and, believe me, when it is I’ll be ready to fight for custody, Rose.’ He’d continued in a clipped voice. ‘When you return to New York you’ll move into the adjoining apartment to mine for the remainder of your pregnancy. We can communicate through my assistants.’