Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge(17)

Good.

For now that would have to be enough.

His kiss was a claim. It was a seal of their union  . She kissed him back fiercely, her tongue clashing with his, her body wrapping around his beneath the water. The feeling of his arousal between her legs, straining at the fabric of her swimsuit, with the warmth of the pool water surrounding them was almost too much to bear.

Impatience crested inside her, bubbling out of control.

She made a sound into his mouth as she pushed back a little, her fingers toying with the straps of her swimsuit. They were saturated, and stuck to her body like a second skin; it didn’t help that her hands were unsteady.

He had no such difficulty.

With total confidence he slid the straps down her arms, revealing her breasts. The dusk light bathed her, spreading gold and peach over her flesh. He continued to push the fabric away, and Marnie lifted her legs to make it easier.

Naked in the water with him, she had a blinding sense that she might actually die if they didn’t make love. If something were to happen to change his mind she wasn’t sure she could recover. Her desperation for him would have terrified her if she’d had any mental space left with which to process it.

He pulled her back towards him, settling her legs around his waist. His eyes showed strain as he paused, his hard cock nestled between her legs without yet invading her womanhood.

‘You have not been sore today?’

She shook her head.

‘You must tell me...’

Groaning, she repositioned herself, startling him by thrusting down on his length and taking him deep inside her core. Relief spread through her body, weakening and strengthening her in yet another contradictory sensation. He held her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his lips seeking hers. His tongue was harsh in her mouth, echoing the movements of his body as he made her completely his.

Her orgasm burst over her swiftly; there was no time to prepare.

The entire day had been a kind of torturous foreplay for Marnie. Memories of their night together had tormented her, driving her body to fever pitch, so that the tiniest things—such as the feeling of the apron as she’d wrapped it around her over-sensitised nipples—had almost driven her over the edge.

Nikos watched as she crested the wave, her face a thousand little nerve endings vibrating with pleasure. The answering swelling in his heart was not something he wished to acknowledge.

Telling himself it was simply relief that they’d found themselves to be sexually compatible, he pushed deeper into her, drifting his fingers lower to cup the neat softness of her buttocks. He dragged his lips down her throat, flicking his tongue against the pulse-point that was frantically trying to move blood through her body, then lower still to her breasts. They were lapped by the water, and he had to lift her a little to take one into his mouth. The second he did she cried out, tilting her wet head back into the water so that her hair, no longer braided, fell like a dark curtain.

He moved one hand to tangle in its lengths, holding her head there while he plundered her core in an insatiable rhythm.

His own control was slipping. Her muscles, so moist and tight, were squeezing him as her pleasure spiralled, and when he felt her tremble and knew she was about to crest the wave again he went with her, holding her close, mirroring her movements until they were both panting, drenched in sweat and pool water, satisfaction emanating from every pore.

Their coming together had been as intense as it had essential. But it was just a prelude to the slow exploration he had been distracted by thinking of all day. To the myriad ways he wanted to torment and delight her.

Satiated, Marnie slowly relaxed, her body reassuring her that nothing bad could eventuate when such uncontainable desire abounded.

It was only then that she remembered the fish in the oven. It would be burned to a crisp.

Well, if that was the only casualty of this desire then she could live with it.

* * *

In the small hours of the morning, their naked limbs tangled with crisp white sheets, bodies sheened in post-coital perspiration and satisfaction, sleep fogging around the edges of their tableau, Marnie shifted a little, tilting her head to observe her husband.

His eyes were shut, his breathing heavy.

‘How can you call this a pretence?’ she whispered—to herself more than anything.

Without opening his eyes, he said thickly, ‘This is just great sex, Marnie. Do not confuse it with anything more substantive or you will be hurt.’

He rolled over, his broad, muscled back turned to her, his heart apparently closed.





CHAPTER SEVEN

A FORTNIGHT HAD passed and his words were still sharp in her brain, like shards of glass that made her weep blood whenever she ran the fingertip of her mind over them.

‘This is just great sex... Do not confuse it with anything more substantive...’

Her coffee-coloured eyes were flecked with gold as they drifted over the view from the window. For her office she’d chosen a room far away from the pool, their bedroom and the kitchen—that was to say far from any of the rooms that distracted her with what Nikos and she had shared there.

It was a small room, but she didn’t need a lot of space, and it afforded an outlook of the city, rather than the ocean. In the distance she could see the Acropolis, bathed in early-evening light, and the buildings of the city sprawled almost like a child’s model.

Though she took solace and inspiration from the outlook, this was not why she’d chosen this particular spot from which to work. From her seat she could see the curve of Nikos’s driveway. The second his car thrummed through the gates she knew. And then she had the maximum time to prepare herself for his arrival, to gather the facade she had perfected around her slender shoulders. A facade that was essential when faced with her husband.

They shared meals and polite conversation. They were unstintingly civil. But there was a torrent of emotions swirling hatefully beneath all their appropriate conversations. Only when they came together at night did she find an outlet for her rampant emotions. Sex. Passionate, all-consuming sex that explained everything. She was addicted to him. To his body and to the way he made her feel.

Marnie clicked out of her spreadsheet, her mind half-absorbed with the call-list she had for the following day. How grateful she was to have her work! Were it not for the distraction of the behind-the-scenes fundraising she did for the Future Trust she might have exploded already in a scene reminiscent of Vesuvius.

She flicked a glance to the clock above the door. He was late, and nerves that had been stretched tight for two days—since he’d told her about this event—were at breaking point.

For the first time since marrying they were going out.

Strange how she hadn’t even realised that she’d become a virtual recluse, spending her time almost exclusively within the confines of his home except for brief trips to the markets with Eléni.

Now it was time to meet the world. She was Mrs Kyriazis—billionaire’s wife.

What a joke.

Their marriage was little more than revenge and sex, and yet tonight she would play the part of doting newlywed to perfection. If only to show him how little she cared.

She heard his car and rose quickly from her desk. It wasn’t that she had intended to be secretive about her work, but Nikos never came into her office. As if that conversation on her first afternoon in Greece had flagged something in his mind and he had subsequently delineated her office as her own space. For all he knew she might be running some kind of international drug ring, she thought with a small smile as she pulled the door shut behind her.

Marnie rarely wore heels, but for the kind of evening Nikos had foreshadowed she knew they’d be a requirement. They did bolster her height nicely, and she felt the picture of elegance when she walked gracefully down the stairs.

She’d spent a long time styling her hair, and her make-up was a masterpiece. Anne Kenington might not have played Cubby House with her children, nor had she read them the books that a nanny had had more time for, but she had insisted both her daughters were drilled in the skills necessary to present themselves as Ladies.

When Marnie emerged into the foyer at the same moment that Nikos entered the house she waited with a small smile on her red lips for him to see her. Pleasant anticipation swirled through her as she waited for the light of attraction to bounce between them.

The second his eyes lifted to her she felt a bolt of something. Not desire. Not happiness. Something else. Something far darker.

His eyes undertook a slow and thorough inspection, but his expression showed only shock. Marnie held her breath as he stared at her, waiting, aching, needing. Wanting him to say something to explain the reaction.

‘You look...’ He wiped a hand across his eyes and shook his head.

‘Yes?’ She braved a smile, though her heart was plummeting to the floor.

‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

He dropped his keys onto the side table and turned away. Only the ragged movement of his chest showed that he was still struggling with a dark tangle of emotions.

‘I will be ready as soon as I can. Why do you not have a drink while you wait?’

A frown marred her features for the briefest of moments before she remembered. She didn’t do that! She didn’t betray how easily he could upset her.

‘Fine,’ she agreed, her smile ice-cold, her pulse hammering. ‘Don’t be long. You said it starts at eight.’