Page 51 of Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child
Until he knew more, he would reserve judgement. Any sane man would.
Carys shifted, trying to shrug off his hold.
‘I need to hang this dress up.’ Her voice was as cool and colourless as a mountain stream and she avoided his eyes.
Though she didn’t berate or accuse, he felt her disappointment as a tangible force. His belly clenched with a sensation that might have been regret.
Alessandro didn’t like it.
‘Later.’ The word emerged roughly, dragging her stunned gaze to his face.
Didn’t she understand that he gave her as much as any man could in the circumstances? That he’d already gone out on a limb tying himself to a woman he didn’t know simply for the sake of their son?
And for the shimmering inexplicable force that hovered between them.
No! Now he was buying into that female territory where emotions rather than sense ruled the world.
‘This is more important than your dress.’ His hands slid round her bare shoulders and he yanked her close, revelling in the bare heat of her torso, the delicate scratch of her lace bra and soft breasts against his thudding chest.
Without giving her time to protest he covered her mouth with his, taking advantage of her parted lips to thrust inside and claim her. She tasted of hot summer days, sun-ripened cherries and warm, luscious woman.
This was real, tangible. The attraction between them sizzled and snarled like a live current. He sank into her sweet depths with something suspiciously like relief. One hand splayed in her hair, holding her so he could ravage her mouth. The other pressed her close.
Hunger rose, raw and untrammelled, making a mockery of every resolution to remain in control. Need consumed him.
Dimly he was aware he’d unleashed an onslaught on her, not a slow seduction. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t think, until gradually the rigidity left her bones and she melted into him, her hands sliding up to cup his neck. He shuddered with pleasure when she pressed into him as if she too couldn’t get enough of the powerful passion driving them.
Only much later, when their chests heaved from lack of oxygen and her lax form told him she was his for the taking, did he remember his vow to seduce and not simply ravage.
Moments later he’d flicked her bra open and dragged it off. He bent and cupped one luscious breast in his hand. Its weight was perfect, made for his palm. She sighed as he closed his lips around one peak and suckled, cried out when he bit gently on her nipple. Her hands dug into his skull, keeping him close as he lavished attention on one breast then the other. And all the while his body clamoured for more.
She swayed in his hold and he nudged her back a step till she collapsed on the bed. Perfect. Before she could protest he was between her knees, shoulders spreading her thighs, his hunger an unstoppable force.
‘I—’ Her words died as he cupped her with his palm, gently applying pressure till he felt a response shudder through her. He nudged aside her hands that had sought to stop him. Then he took his time, stroking and teasing till her body lifted off the mattress to meet his hand.
Relief scoured him. She was as needy as he. As hungry for this passion. His body felt gripped by a vice, too tight, too hard, too impossibly aroused, just by the sight and sound of Carys responding to his ministrations.
Never had a lover’s pleasure affected him so profoundly. He wanted to give her more and more, even as his whole being thrummed with the need for release.
‘Alessandro!’ Her protest died as he parted her folds and licked her, tasting the dewy salt tang that was pure Carys. It was addictive, as was the delicate shiver of her legs enfolding him.
It didn’t take much to push her over the edge and he revelled in the sound of her gasping breath, the feel of her body curving up around him, the shudders racking her from top to toe. He smiled his satisfaction even as he forced down a desperate hunger for his own release.
He needed to show Carys that here, now, was the beginning of their life together. That it was more important than the past she clung to and that he couldn’t recall.
That yawning blank disturbed him more than he’d admit, but he was determined to carve a life with his child. And, therefore, his bride. He wanted to please her, sate her, till she was completely, absolutely his. Till she didn’t hanker for anything else. So Carys understood the magnitude of this passion between them.
And gave up badgering him with emotions and tests of trust.
What they had was enough. More than enough.
Carys surely would attest to that as he brought her to climax again. This time he leaned over her, watching her eyes shine like a starry night.
Then, only when she was spent, did he slowly join with her, careful of her exhausted body. He trembled, almost undone by the depth of pleasure at being inside her. She tugged him close and held him to her. Instantly desperate energy rose and swamped him. He gave up all pretence at control and lost himself in the ecstasy of being at one with his wife.
