Xenakis's Convenient Bride(15)

"No."

He released a breath of hot laughter against her chin and lowered to almost but not quite kiss the side of her neck.         

     



 

She tried to wriggle free, but his grip was implacable. He only lifted  his head, leaving the skin at her nape tingling in anticipation, yet  aching with loss. Everything in her wanted to beg him for that kiss, but  she set her chin, refusing to.

"If you want me to stop, say so, but if it's yourself you're fighting  then tell me why. Is it because you were raised to think it's wrong to  like sex?"

"I don't have hang-ups, if that's what you're asking. I just don't like  feeling manipulated by someone who treats my body like it's territory on  a game board. You're not sensual at all. You're more turned on by the  idea of conquering me."

His expression hardened and a bright light filled his eyes. "The only  reason I didn't take you against the wall that day was because I didn't  have a condom. Stop fighting how much you want me and I'll show you how  much I want you," he promised.

Or was it a threat?

Either way, it was a huge risk. Scary. She didn't have a hang-up about  sex, not really, but she didn't like letting her basest self overcome  her rational brain. Biology was a powerful thing, designed by nature to  perpetuate the species no matter the cost to the parents. The way  Brandon had made her feel had been a tepid bath compared to the way she  reacted to Stavros, but she had still allowed that bit of pleasantness  to override her good sense.

The result had been a disaster, and she was terrified her life would  spin out of control again, especially when the temptation to allow it  was so strong.

"I won't beg, either," he said in a gravelly undertone, drawing a  tendril of her hair across the base of her neck. "Even though I want you  more than... I keep thinking it's because of the way we met. Where we  met."

His gaze was fixated on the silk of her hair drawn across her skin, his voice a rasp.

"Don't imagine I could walk out of here and enjoy the next woman who comes along. I want you," he said.

She couldn't help the cut of her breath against the pressure on her  throat. Her pulse leaped at the same time, while a flood of heat washed  through her.

"I-" She tried to swallow. "I started a prescription, but it's not  working yet. You have to wear something until it is. I don't want to get  pregnant."

It was a desperate attempt to slow things down, not that it had any effect on either of them.

"I won't forget."

They held a locked stare for a minute, something that was between a  power struggle and a quest for reassurance. On her part, at least. She  didn't know what it was for him. She didn't know him, which was  distressing. But she looked into his eyes and sensed... Maybe she was  projecting what she wanted to see, but she sensed that she could be his  salvation in a way that she wanted him to be hers.

That reflection of herself in there, that sense that he wrestled in his own cage of agony, got to her every time.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

As if it was the signal he'd been waiting for, he set one brief,  openmouthed kiss on her lips. A test. Was she ready for this? Would she  respond as he'd asked?

She was. She did. Only this time she didn't just let her lips cling to  his. When he came back for a longer kiss, she kissed him back. She  didn't just let the wash of pleasure guide her reaction, she responded  with intention. Encouragement. She revealed the hunger that had been  prowling inside her from the first moment she had seen him.

A growl sounded in his throat as he took control of the kiss, deepening it.

She moaned, let him have his way, but splayed her fingers in his hair  and massaged. His arms tightened, drawing her already hot body tight  against the inferno that was his, making her breathless.

With each tiny reaction, the intensity pinballed tighter and faster  between them. She arched into him; he gave her his tongue. She met the  intrusion with a delicate suction and he made a ragged noise while  moving wide, possessive hands over her back and hips. Her waist. When  she rocked her breasts against his chest, both trying to ease the ache  in the tips and incite his reaction, he caught one in his splayed  fingers.

The sensation had her opening her eyes, but she saw nothing, all of her  vision white. A flood of wet heat poured into the juncture of her thighs  while he plucked and rolled her nipple through her dress and bra. A  plea caught in her throat, begging him to strip her so she could feel  that hot, sensual touch on her bare skin. Please. She thrust her pelvis  into his.

He pivoted and stumbled her backward. They bumped an end table. A lamp  hit the floor with a clattering smash, jolting her back to their elegant  surroundings.

"What-"         

     



 

"Forget it," he ordered, fingers working behind her. "Where is the zip?"

"It's here-" She lifted her arm, panting, but as her hand came up she  couldn't resist cupping his jaw and chasing his mouth with her own.

He avoided her long enough to say, "Give me your tongue," then he kissed  her, made a feral noise as she gave herself up to him and got her dress  open enough to sweep his fingertips across the lace of her bra.

They fell to the sofa, angled and crooked, each with one leg hanging  off. His knee dug into the cushion beside her hip and they both writhed a  moment until he pulled back and guided her inside knee so he was  between her legs. The skirt of her dress fell to her waist, baring her  lacy white panties.

He took a moment to look from the scrap covering her hips to where her  dress gaped at her shoulder. His carved features were more savage than  ever. She shouldn't find it a turn-on, but her wetness increased. She  shakily pulled her shoulder from her dress, then opened her bra, baring  her breast.

She offered herself in the most blatantly scary way. Please like what you see.

His lips tightened across his teeth in something too feral to be a  smile, then he covered her and took her nipple into his mouth, hot and  assertive, sucking strongly so she bucked against him.

"Stavros!"

"Too much?" He drew back to circle with his tongue and scrape lightly  with his teeth. "Or not enough? Tell me," he ordered in a guttural tone.

All she could say was a whispered "More" while she scored her nails  across his shoulders, wishing she could tear open his shirt and feel his  skin.

He kept teasing her while he lifted his chest enough to yank at his  buttons, tearing open his shirt then making a noise of satisfaction as  she slid her hands beneath it, stroking hot, flexing muscle, squirming  with pleasure at the way he dallied at her breast and pulled at her  other shoulder until both her breasts were available to him.

She was being utterly wanton, shocking herself, but the way he pulled  back in a kind of sexual daze was incredibly exciting. How could she not  thrill to the power in arching her back and hearing his breath grow  ragged?

"Not scared now, are you? You should be," he said in a dangerous voice,  stroking a hand up her inner thigh and catching at the damp fabric of  her undies. His fingers went under and the backs of his knuckles grazed  the seam of her lips, making her stomach muscles tense and jump.

He grunted approval. "Like that?"

She was trembling all over, unable to speak, to say she loved it. She  moved one fingertip to his fly, tracing the ridge that pressed at the  front.

He bit out a curse and, with a jerk of lace, he bared her to his avid gaze.

She squeaked in surprise, then caught her breath as he jerked open his fly with an equal lack of finesse and revealed himself.

Oh. That was... They were really doing this. He rolled a condom down his  length, stroked himself with his fist as though ensuring a tight fit.

Her thighs twitched and she felt too exposed, too vulnerable. It was all  happening so fast. Her hands went to his chest as he started to cover  her.

His gaze flashed as he saw the hesitation in her eyes. "Say yes. Say yes, please."

She wasn't sure if he was ordering her to beg or pleading for her to  give him permission. The hint of desperation in his expression reassured  her, though. He looked like he thought he might die if they didn't do  this. It was enough to convince her he was as engulfed in this  experience as she was.

With a tentative touch, she slid her hand between them and guided him  into place. Like it was a signal, he took control again, covering her  mouth in a passionate kiss as he pressed into her.

There was a pinch and a stretch, but "Mmm..." She groaned in joy,  stunned by the rush of sensation as he moved in a testing stroke. He  trembled and lifted enough to look at her, his gaze intense, as though  holding back took all his effort.

Nothing in her life had ever felt this good and she wanted more. Needed  it. Demanded it. She arched, inviting a deeper penetration on his next  return.

His breath rasped and he drove a little harder and drew back to do it  again. From there they abandoned any attempt at propriety and gave  themselves up to the wildness of it. It was primitive and raw. Graphic.  But good. So sinfully good.