LITMIR.BIZ

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flowered into goosepimples wherever he touched her and against her lacy bra, she could feel the insistent pushing of her nipples. Lucy sucked in a shuddering breath as he turned her around to face him again. The gleam of desire in his black eyes made something clench deep inside her and she wondered if she had taken complete leave of her senses. How could she possibly shatter the mood by asking him about another woman at a time like this?

      ‘Now,’ he murmured. ‘Why don’t we get rid of this dress completely?’

      She heard the rueful note in his voice and was instantly on the defensive. ‘You don’t like it?’

      He smiled as he traced a slow finger along the modest neckline of her very traditional gown. ‘I thought it was perfectly appropriate for the entrance of my beautiful bride, but looser and freer is what I have in mind for what happens next.’

      He slid the embossed satin of her gown over each shoulder and let the entire confection fall to the ground before effortlessly lifting her from the vast canopy of stiffened petticoats, until she was standing before him in just her white lacy underwear, hold-up stockings and spiky white high-heeled shoes. Slowly, he studied her and his black gaze felt as if it were scorching her skin where it lingered. ‘Much better,’ he said, and his voice was unsteady. ‘Though I’m now feeling a little overdressed. Any ideas how we might redress the balance, Lucy?’

      Lucy felt suddenly stricken with shyness as she lifted her fingers to his chest. Was he wondering what had happened to the uninhibited person she’d been back in the summer when he had awoken her sexuality and her appetite for him had been wild and untamed? She was wondering the same thing herself. But back then it had felt as if she had nothing to lose, while now the stakes seemed significantly higher. Yet wasn’t she in danger of sabotaging their union before it had even started if she wasn’t careful?

       So snap out of it. Enjoy your wedding night with your gorgeous new husband. Make this so good he’ll never want to look elsewhere for his pleasure.

      ‘I have some idea,’ she murmured. ‘Let me help you out of this shirt.’

      She was so nervous she could barely undo the first button, but as soon as she made contact with his skin all her reservations melted away like honey left out in the midday sun. How could she have forgotten just how beautiful he was? His olive skin gleamed with health and vitality and hungrily she ran her gaze over all that hard, honed muscle. Her fingers drifted over his hair-roughened chest and Lucy heard him expel a shuddered sigh as she slipped the shirt from his shoulders and it slid to the ground. Which just left his trousers. She swallowed. It was easy to see how huge and taut his erection was, straining against the fine material, and her cheeks grew hot as she dropped her head to his shoulder.

      ‘Oh,’ she whispered against his neck, shy once more.

      ‘Anyone would think you’d never seen me in such an intimate state before.’

      She swallowed. ‘It seems like a long time ago.’

      ‘It seems like that to me, too,’ he agreed raggedly as he tugged at the belt of his trousers and swiftly bent to remove the rest of his clothes, his black eyes opaque with lust as he straightened up again. ‘I’ve never had to wait for a woman like I’ve waited for you, Lucy. And it has been an exquisite kind of torture, do you realise that?’

      Was it the thrill of the unknown which was making his voice dip with such husky intent as he unclipped her bra, so that her breasts sprang free against his bare chest? Did novelty alone account for the tense shudder which ran through his big body as he tugged her panties down over her thighs and kicked them impatiently away, before dextrously disposing of her high heels and filmy stockings so that they ended up in a white heap on the floor? Lucy didn’t know and, right then, she didn’t particularly care because he was lifting her into his arms and carrying her over to the bed, laying her down in the centre of the vast mattress like a willing sacrifice. His gaze moved down over her body. He stroked his fingers over her breasts, her belly, her hips, his narrowing eyes noting the restless wriggle of her bare bottom against the duvet. And then he smiled.

      ‘Want me?’ he questioned softly.

      ‘You know I do,’ she whispered.

      He lay down on top of her, pushing her hair back from her flushed face before bending his head to kiss her. And as Lucy opened her eager lips to meet his, she felt a powerful wave of emotion rushing through her. Because this was the bit she remembered best. The sensation of his flesh pressing against hers. The long, drugging kisses and entwining of limbs and the feeling that this was somehow meant to be. Eagerly, she touched him back, and he moaned softly as she stroked him, and for a while they both seemed content with a rapt and silent rediscovery of each other’s bodies. And then suddenly the tempo seemed to change. Drakon’s body became taut as he captured her arms above her head and held them against the pillow, before pressing his mouth to her nipple so that she could feel the warmth of his breath against the erect skin.

      ‘Oh,’ she gasped softly.

      ‘I love your breasts, Lucy,’ he said huskily. ‘They’re so damned…big.’

      As if to illustrate his pleasure, he began licking what felt like every inch of her, making her squirm with helpless delight. And meantime his hand had slipped between her legs and was spreading open her thighs, one finger thrumming urgently against her creamy heat so that Lucy’s head fell back against the pillow. His rhythm was blissful and relentless—it rocketed her straight up to the stars and she came very quickly, her body arching beneath his hand as the spasms clenched low in her belly and then reverberated through her body like a sweet, spent storm. And when at last her eyelids fluttered open, it was to meet the black gleam of his penetrating gaze.

      ‘And I like watching you come,’ he observed throatily. ‘I like it when your body goes rigid and you make those gasping little sounds at the back of your throat.’

      These were starkly sensual statements which only an hour ago might have had her blushing like a schoolgirl, but not now—not when satisfaction was flooding through her still-pulsing body. Yet despite the intense pleasure which had transformed her, it wasn’t enough, Lucy decided. Not nearly enough. Because she was no longer just some random woman he’d ended up having unexpected sex with on his private Greek island. She was now his wife and she wanted him to make love to her properly. She wanted him inside her. Badly. Reaching her arms up around his neck, she pulled his head down, and as his lips met hers a restless heat begin to rise inside her once more. She heard him give a low laugh as his tongue slipped inside her mouth and he began to circle his hips in a provocative demonstration of his arousal, until she thought she would go crazy with longing.

      She realised he was rolling away from her and, for one illogical moment, wondered if her earlier fears had materialised and he was actually having second thoughts about consummating the marriage. But his reasoning was far more pragmatic than that. He was reaching for something on the bedside locker and Lucy swallowed when she saw what it was. A condom. Of course he would wear a condom. She could feel faint hysteria—and fear—spiral up inside her, because he’d told her he didn’t want any more children and he was just making sure that wouldn’t happen. He wasn’t to know that protection was completely unnecessary in her case, was he?

      ‘Drakon?’

      His eyes were smoky with lust as he turned round. ‘Ti?’

      ‘I’m… I’m on the pill.’

      He smiled approvingly as he dropped the condom back on the nightstand. ‘What excellent planning, my clever wife,’ he murmured. ‘That’s exactly as it should be.’

      Hysteria began to build again. Should she tell him she’d been on the pill for years because of her endometriosis? But by then he was rolling back towards her, pulling her into his arms with a groan of feral hunger, and Lucy could feel his naked hardness touching against her moist heat. He bent his dark head and was kissing her with a thoroughness which was making her heart want to burst out of her chest, because when he kissed her like that it felt like a fairy tale. And why would she risk destroying that by talking about her tragic gynaecological history

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