Tessa’s fingers dug into his shoulders as the darkness behind her closed eyelids whirled with impossibly bright shimmers of light. Her breath heaved, completely out of control, and she trembled in need, anticipation, desire.
Then his hand was gone, leaving her throbbingly eager and unsatisfied. Her eyes shot open as his lips left hers and she dragged in her first unfettered breath.
She tightened her grip on his shoulders, but he didn’t seem to notice her restraining hands. His eyes, febrile and glittering, surveyed the jagged rise and fall of her bare breasts and then moved lower.
Tessa’s lips throbbed from his assault. She wanted him back. Her breath sawed, loud in her throat. Arousal flooded her at the look in his eyes. His stillness lasted only a moment. Long enough for her to absorb the sight of him, taut and ready, and to want him.
He pushed himself away from her and off the bed, to kneel before her, yanking her jeans down, pulling off her sandals and tearing the last of her clothing away.
Tessa flushed, a burning rush of blood suffusing her whole body as he stared down at her. She could feel the blush, and his hot gaze, all over her.
And it wasn’t from embarrassment.
She wanted him so badly; had never known desire could be this raging beast inside.
She inched her thighs open a fraction and the moment of stillness ended. Stavros ripped open the knot of his tie and threw it away, stripped off the shirt down to the cuff-links, then unceremoniously tore those open, his shirt flying in pieces across the bed.
And as his hands lowered to the bulging fabric of his trousers he spoke. It was a low, guttural, uneven thread of Greek that made Tessa’s skin draw tight.
She closed her eyes, trying to regain some semblance of control over her body.
She was aware of her heart’s pulsing thud, hammering at her ribcage as if trying to escape, and the heat, the burning, feverish heat that consumed her. She heard him discard his clothes and the brief rustle of tearing foil.
Then suddenly there was more.
She cried out as he lowered his mouth to her, slid his tongue where his fingers had caressed her. Flames scorched and an inferno of white-hot sensations consumed her. It was pleasure so intense surely it must be pain.
‘Please…Stavros!’ Vaguely she caught the sound of the keening, breathless cry, unaware that she’d even called out. Every nerve, her whole being, concentrated on this indescribable pleasure.
Tessa was overcome by shuddering anticipation as he surged higher, over her trembling form, nuzzling at her skin. His body, all pure, muscled energy, and flaming hot, slid along her as he rose.
‘Open your eyes,’ he demanded in a gruff voice. ‘I want you to see when I fill you.’
Obediently her eyes snapped open. She looked up to his face, drawn tight with barely constrained desire. She’d never seen anything so wonderful.
Then she felt something move against her and her gaze lowered, down over the bunched muscles and sinews of his chest and straining arms, over the taut abdomen to his arousal, sheathed in a condom. It was enormous, pushing rhythmically against her thigh.
Tessa swallowed, eyes rounding in apprehension, and yet of its own volition her body rose up towards his. Surely it would be all right, she told herself. This was how it was meant to be. This was…natural.
Stavros lowered his hand to her delicate flesh and instantly all anxiety vanished as the urgent wellspring of need surged inside her again.
She raised her eyes to his, opened her mouth to say his name, and instead gasped out a hoarse cry of pain as with a single, unstoppable thrust he filled her, surely to breaking point.
CHAPTER TEN
STAVROS shuddered, bracing himself on both arms above her as he sought to find a way back from the brink. The scent of her skin was such a powerful aphrodisiac that just breathing was an incitement to fulfilment.
He stilled, fighting down the compulsion to lose himself in the drugging ecstasy of sensation where her body cradled his. Her hot, sexy, impossibly tight, inexperienced body.
Hell!
Through the sensual fog that hazed his brain, he caught and absorbed that single thread of knowledge.
Why hadn’t she told him? How was he supposed to have guessed the truth?
Her eyes were closed, shut tight in a frown of pain that said it all. But not as eloquently as the naked anguish he’d read in her wide, glazed eyes a moment ago as she’d stared up at him, like an injured animal, stunned by sudden trauma.
Stavros gritted his teeth, forcing himself to be still. No matter that he was on a knife’s edge. A hair’s breadth of movement would toss him over the precipice to a place where restraint shattered and the animal in him would be free to complete what he’d begun.
Her breath came in choppy little pants. Even that was almost too much for him as his gaze dropped to her pert breasts rising and falling below him. He wanted to…