Greek Mavericks: For The Greek's Revenge - Tara Pammi Mills & Boon M&B

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desperately. He’s not the same. But as she reached out and brushed her fingers against the diamond engagement ring, it sparkled like the stars. Like the lights of this powerful city.

      Like the smolder in Darius’s dark eyes.

      “It would destroy us,” she said shakily, but what she really meant was it would destroy me.

      Darius slowly rose in front of her, until his tall, powerful body towered over hers. Waves of blue light from the pool reflected against him as the warm wind moved across the water. Putting his hand on her cheek, he lowered his head.

      “Say yes,” he whispered. “Say you’ll be mine.”

      His kiss was tender at first. She felt the rough warmth of his lips, the gentle hold of his arms.

      Then his grip tightened. His embrace became hungry, filled with need. Spirals of heat twisted through her body, and she gripped his shoulders. Until he pulled away.

      “Say it,” he demanded.

      “Yes,” she choked out.

      A flash of triumph crossed his starkly handsome face. “You will?”

      She nodded, tears in her eyes.

      “There will be no going back,” he warned.

      “I know.” She tried to ignore the thrill that crept into her heart. Excitement? Terror?

      Right or wrong, disaster or not, there was nothing to be done. What he’d said was true. She’d always been his. In many ways, this decision had been made for her long ago.

      He slid the diamond ring over the third finger of her left hand. It fit perfectly. She looked down at it, sparkling in the moonlight. “How did you know my ring size?”

      “It’s the same ring.”

      She frowned. “What?”

      “It’s the same I bought for you ten years ago.” His voice was low. “I had it set with a different stone.”

      The thought that he’d kept their original ring all these years made her heart ache. Whatever he might say, didn’t that mean he might still care for her, at least a little?

      Could love, once lost, ever be regained?

      Looking at him with tears in her eyes, she breathed, “Darius...”

      “You’re mine now, Letty,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. “You belong to me. Forever.”

      Then he kissed her lips as if those, too, were his possession.

      Sparks of pleasure went up and down Letty’s body, coiling low and deep inside her, and she felt his hands running down her bare arms, her sides, cupping her breasts over the pink dress.

      She fell back against the ivy-covered stone wall. Above them, fairy lights swayed gently in the warm wind, the skyscrapers of Manhattan illuminating the moonlit sky.

      Letty’s eyes closed as he kissed his way down her throat. She felt breathless, like she was lost in a dream.

      He kissed over the diamond necklace to her bare clavicle and the valley between her full breasts, half revealed above the low-cut bodice of her gown.

      Picking her up, he carried her past the sweeping ivy into a half-enclosed room protected on two sides by walls, with a rustic chandelier hanging over a long table. Two leather sofas were arranged around a fireplace and well-stocked bar.

      He flicked a switch, and the gas fire lit up. She saw Darius’s face clearly in the flickering firelight as they faced each other silently. The soft wind blew against her hair, her skin.

      Slowly, Darius removed his tuxedo jacket and dropped it to the flagstone floor. Coming closer, he unzipped her pink dress. She felt the brush of his fingertips, then the warm night air against her bare skin as her gown dropped to the floor beside his jacket. She stepped out of the fabric, wearing only the diamonds, a lace bra, panties and the wicked pink crystal stiletto heels.

      He stepped back, looking at her.

      “Incredible,” he breathed in deep masculine appreciation, and she realized that, just as he’d promised, he was seeing her in the lingerie. She scowled.

      “Do you always get what you want?” she said accusingly.

      “I do,” he said, caressing her cheek. “And now, so will you.”

      She licked her lips and felt a thrill of delight as his expression changed to raw desire. Reaching up, she saucily loosened his tuxedo tie, before tugging on it, drawing him closer for a kiss.

      It was the first time she’d ever made the first move, and he growled fierce approval. Holding her tight, he kissed her back hungrily.

      His hands caressed her naked skin, her arms, her shoulders, the small of her back. And suddenly she couldn’t remove his clothes fast enough. His tie, cuff links, shirt. They all dropped to the floor.

      His tanned body, laced with dark hair, looked like sculpted marble in the flickering firelight, all hard muscles and taut belly. She brushed her hand lightly against his chest. His skin felt like silk over steel. Biting her lip, she lifted her eyes to his.

      “If I’m yours, Darius,” she whispered, standing in front of him in the half-enclosed room, “you’re mine.”

      Brushing back long dark tendrils of her hair, he pulled her roughly into his arms. His hard-muscled chest moved against her full, aching breasts and pregnant belly. The soft wind whispered against her bare skin as he unhooked her silk lace bra, and her breasts sprang free. He looked down at her body and gave a quick breath.

      Pressing her breasts together, he cupped their weight in his hands before he lowered his head to suckle one pink, full nipple, then the other.

      Shuddering with pleasure, she closed her eyes.

      His hands stroked gently, reverently, down her body to her naked belly to her hips, still covered with the tiny silk panties.

      Running his hand down her legs, he knelt before her and pulled off one stiletto, then the other, as she balanced against him, her hands gripping his shoulders. She remained standing—barely—as he caressed upward from her manicured toes, to the tender hollows of her knees, and higher still. She swallowed, holding her breath as he stroked up her thighs.

      She closed her eyes, heart pounding as he pulled her panties down her legs. She couldn’t move fast enough. He impatiently ripped them off in his powerful hands, tossing the flimsy silk aside.

      “Those were expensive—” she protested.

      He looked up, and the edges of his cruel, sensual mouth curved upward. “They served their purpose.”

      An icy fear suddenly crept through her heart as Letty wondered if she, too, might someday have served her purpose. If he might someday rip her apart, then discard her.

      Then all her rational thought fled as, still on his knees, he gripped her hips and moved between her legs.

      She felt the warmth of his breath on the most sensitive, intimate part of her body, as she stood naked with the warm night breeze swirling against her skin, as one of New York’s most famous billionaires knelt before her in the firelight, beneath the ivy walls of a rooftop garden.

      Holding her tight, he lowered his mouth between her thighs and tasted her with a soft moan. He licked her as if she were a melting ice cream cone in his favorite flavor, creamy and sweet. As she gasped, his rhythm intensified, until he worked her with his tongue, sliding sensuously against her. Pleasure exploded through her body almost immediately, and he gripped her hips, keeping her firmly against his mouth as her body twisted with the sudden intensity of pleasure that left her knees weak and sent spasms all over her body.

      She was still dizzy in the heights of pleasure as he rose to his feet and drew her toward the sofa. He lay down first, stretching out naked against the black leather, hard and ready for her. She took a step, then hesitated,

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