Page 47 of Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child
Heat exploded in her belly. The heat of sexual excitement.
She shouldn’t want him, but she did. Badly. Despite pride. Despite everything.
‘From the moment I saw your photo I’ve been hard.’ He shook his head and she saw a fleeting glimpse of confusion in his eyes. It almost matched her own disbelief at the revelation. He’d wanted her? Not just seen her as a source of information for the memory he’d lost?
Could it be true? Part of her needed to believe that he’d wanted her, even if only on the most superficial level. That she was special to him.
‘Hungry for a woman I didn’t even know! And in Melbourne…’ His eyes flickered half closed as he tilted his body, pushing right into her hold with a jerky thrust that ended in a low masculine groan of need.
The sound aroused her terribly. Memories swamped her of Alessandro gasping out his desire and his pleasure as they melded together in passion. She squirmed beneath him, fruitlessly trying to ease the wanton ache in her womb.
‘Do you know what it did to me, letting you go?’
Dumbly she shook her head. He’d seemed so controlled. Yet now, looking into a face drawn tight with barely bridled hunger, a face of pain, Carys began to doubt her certainty.
‘For the first time in two years I wanted a woman, but it was obvious you weren’t ready. You were exhausted and overwhelmed by the changes in your life.’
He leaned forward, braced on one hand above her, the other hand still clasping her to him. Part of her revelled in his dominance, even as she fought to clear her mind. ‘I thought you needed time, Carys. That’s why I pulled back.’
For the first time in two years? Her brain stuck on that statement.
She couldn’t have heard right. Alessandro was a virile man who revelled in physical pleasure. When all else had bled away, and their relationship grew empty, he’d still been a passionate lover, almost ferocious in his need for her. And in his need to give her equal pleasure.
A shudder of pure longing rippled through her.
‘Don’t soft soap me, Alessandro. I don’t care how many lovers you’ve had since we were together,’ she lied. ‘So you don’t have to pretend to—’
‘Celibacy?’ His mouth twisted in derision. ‘And what if it’s true? What if there’s been no one since you?’
Her mind boggled at the idea of Alessandro celibate without her, only feeling desire when he saw her again.
As if his subconscious had kept him for her alone.
No! That was nonsense. The inane imaginings of a woman who’d once been too much in love.
‘You can’t mean it.’
‘You know,’ he growled, ‘I’m getting tired of you telling me what it is I mean or feel.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WITHOUT warning he moved back. Carys was free, her skirts no longer pinned beneath his knees, her hand no longer pressed against that most intimate part of him.
She was relieved. Of course she was. She drew a long, shaky breath. In a minute she’d move and—
Her skirts bunched as strong hands slipped up from her ankles over silk-stockinged calves and knees. By the time Carys collected her stunned thoughts his fingers had reached her thighs, pausing to circle the tops of the stockings Carlotta had insisted she wear with her new underwear and glamorous gown.
Dumbfounded, Carys stared up over a froth of silk to Alessandro’s stern face. He was looking down to where his hands played with her suspender straps. Her breath jammed in her lungs at the incredibly erotic sensations his feather-light caresses evoked.
She leaned up, intending to push him away, but it was too late. Already he’d thrust the fabric higher, baring her to his gaze. She felt a waft of air as, with a single tug, he ripped the delicate fabric of her panties away.
The look on his face stopped her instantaneous move to cover herself. Heat sizzled in her blood at the way he stared. Hungry. Possessive. Intense.
The air thickened, making breathing difficult. All she heard was the throb of her pulse, heavy and quick.
The soft wool of Alessandro’s trousers brushed her thighs as he knelt between her legs, pushing them wider. Desire exploded as her blood rushed faster in her shaking limbs.
She needed to resist the lure of his seduction. But now, faced with the reality of Alessandro, rampant with desire, her longings obliterated every sensible reason for resistance.
All she could think of was that he hadn’t betrayed her. Hadn’t taken another lover when they were together, and, if he were serious, not even since they’d parted.
What she’d felt for him hadn’t died. It had only been dormant. Even her heartache hadn’t killed it off.
‘The only thing that would stop me now is if you said you didn’t want this.’ He lifted his head and pinioned her with his gaze.
