CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
T HEY WALKED OUTSIDE into the bright light of the afternoon. The feel of Ana’s kiss still on Aston’s lips; her hand in his, as natural as breathing. Her ring glittered in the sunlight. His bank had transferred the funds immediately after he’d notified them at the hammer fall. There had been no delay. Then he’d taken the gem from its blue velvet box and slid it onto Ana’s finger, to the smiles of the auction house staff. The ring had been the perfect fit.
Something primal erupted deep inside him, the sense that this was his claim over her. In the space of a short afternoon, any remaining distance between them had been breached. It was so deeply satisfying. There was no more wanting, as if he’d had his fill, was replete. For much of his life it had been as if he’d been looking for something. Now he was overwhelmed by the sense that today, he’d found it.
He tried not to think too hard about that, living only in the now. Ana’s palm was warm against his. The sense of rightness on a back street in Paris, when his whole life had been spent chasing the next big adventure. He’d never seen a person as an adventure before but something about the simplicity of this moment had adrenalin coursing through his veins. There was a feeling deep in his gut that his life could irrevocably change if he allowed it.
A large black car slid into place on the street ahead of them. The driver stepped out to let them in, but Aston didn’t wait. ‘To the apartment, please,’ he said, opening the door himself.
His hand was on the small of Ana’s back, guiding her in. She sat slowly and elegantly, swinging her legs into the vehicle and sliding across the seat as he followed. She tried to move over to the other side of the car, but that was too far, like a world away. He grabbed Ana’s hand, hauled her to him and cupped her face, her skin soft and smooth under his fingers.
His lips descended on hers as her hands roved over his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt. Everything about them together was hot and hungry. Time lost meaning. The car could have been moving, or it might not have gone anywhere at all as Ana’s lips opened underneath him. Their tongues touched, sliding over each other. The connection was deep and immense, unfathomable.
The need for her hit him thick and sweet, like a syrupy dessert wine, the most addictive intoxicant. He could drink her in and still never get enough of her. Aston craved more, everything. To drag her onto his lap, strip her clothes and make love to her here in the back seat, with the world passing by them.
His hand reached to her breast, his thumb tracing over her nipple, a hard peak under the fabric of her impeccable suit. She arched into his hand and moaned, deep and low. Ana deserved more than this. She needed a bed with luxurious linens, not some fumble in the back seat of a car. Especially not for what he knew would be her first time. He tore his mouth away. His breath was heavy, her lips a deep plum, her eyes glassy.
‘Name a charity,’ Aston said, his voice unrecognisable to his own ears as the words ground out of him.
‘The Cygnet Centre.’ Her own voice was low, sensual, unlike how he’d heard her before. The sound of it shot like an arrow straight to the heart of him, then much, much lower.
Aston fired off a quick text to his assistant to arrange an immediate donation of twelve million euros to the charity in Ana’s name.
A sense of urgency gripped him then, as if he had no time to lose. They’d marry in the H?tel de Ville near the Girard chateau and celebrate the reception in one of the vineyards. If a religious ceremony was important to her, there was a chapel on the grounds.
The plans shaped in his mind. Her walking down the aisle in a dress of white... Yet he hadn’t actually asked her to marry him, not officially. He’d slipped the ring on her finger in front of the staff of the auction house because it had been expected, yet the words hadn’t been there. Everything had been assumed.
The car pulled to a stop and the driver opened the door. Aston got out, held out his hand and Ana placed hers into it. He didn’t know how he managed to get to his apartment without stripping her bare. As it was, he pressed her into the back of the lift and kissed her mercilessly again. They tumbled out at his floor. He fumbled the lock on his apartment door as if he was some teenager on a drunken night out, and not a man of thirty-two in control of his faculties.
As they entered his apartment’s entrance hall, he swung Ana into his arms, kicking the door closed behind them. He strode through to his bedroom, his lips hungry on hers, their panting breaths mingling. When they reached the room, he placed her reverently on the bed, where she sat, so prim and perfect. He tore off his jacket and dropped it to the floor, yet as he looked down on her something in her expression changed. Her teeth worried her lower lip.
Uncertainty... No!
His brain shouted the word. Aston didn’t want to stop. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life. Every part of him felt as if it would crack, he was wired so tight. Yet, for him, desire had always been a two-way thing. It was vital for both people to want, enthusiastically and equally with no hesitation. He took a long, slow breath.
‘I want you,’ he said.
She looked at his groin, her pupils darkening, her lips parting. It was all he could do not to groan.
‘I guessed.’
He’d never considered English as his second language. He’d always thought of himself as having two. His first memories were speaking both French and English fluently. Now he could barely get out the words in any language.
‘Problem?’
Ana sat up, chewing on her lower lip. She wrapped her hands round her waist. Perhaps she wanted an official engagement before intimacy? He could ask the question, one that would seal their fate together, yet it didn’t seem the right time. There was a ring on her finger, and for now that was enough. He didn’t believe the absence of the words ‘will you marry me?’ was the impediment here. Aston still sensed the heat between them, raging like a wildfire. He was surprised the paint hadn’t blistered on the apartment’s walls.
She dropped her head and her heavy fringe fell over it.
Scars. It was daylight. Ana was afraid of what he might see. He walked to the bank of windows and gently drew each heavy curtain closed against the bright afternoon light. Everything seemed softer, muted.
‘Better?’ he asked.
‘Thank you.’
He didn’t think of himself as a tender man, but she needed some tenderness. Aston walked towards her and took her hands in his.
‘Will you let me see you now?’
She bit into her lower lip again. It must sting, the way her teeth cut into her pink flesh. He wanted to kiss all her pain away. She nodded.
‘Let’s start with what I already know.’
She tilted her head up to look at him. Aston reached out and gently brushed her hair out of the way. She closed her eyes as he looked at the scar threading into her hairline. He bent forward and kissed it, feather light, relishing her exhale as he did.
‘It doesn’t change the way I see you, ma belle .’
‘It changes the way everyone else does. It changed me.’
‘What’s outside isn’t important. You’re kind. You care about your staff, charity—they’re the things of value. Who you are inside.’
He reached down to the top button of her jacket and raised an eyebrow, preparing her for the question to come. ‘Allow me?’
The corners of her mouth lifted in a trembling smile. He would kiss every scar on her body, every imperfection as she perceived it, to bring a true smile to her face. His fingers weren’t as steady as they could be on the buttons because of the anticipation and part concern about needing to manage her fears in a way that would heal and not hurt. What if he got it wrong? He tried not to think of it and concentrated only on her.
Ana’s jacket fell open to an elegant, embroidered camisole underneath. He held his breath in anticipation. She flinched a little and he was unsure whether it was pain or fear of what he might see, so he took it slowly, sliding the fabric from her shoulders. The scar revealed itself, marring the top of her left arm. Parts were thicker than normal skin, raised and red.
‘Does it hurt? Does anything still hurt?’ He wanted to give her pleasure, not cause her pain.
‘Not really. Not any more.’
He knew, though, how emotional wounds could cause more pain than the physical. He had years of experience. Aston leaned down and kissed the still angry-looking skin.
‘Anywhere else?’ he asked. ‘I’ll kiss each one.’
She shook her head. ‘I needed you when I was covered in bruises.’
An ache bloomed in his chest. Had anyone looked after her at all when she’d been hurting?
‘I can go one better. I’ll strip you bare now and kiss every part of your body till the concept of pain leaves your consciousness for ever and all that’s left is pleasure. You, crying out my name to the room.’
Her lips opened, almost as if in shock at his promise. ‘Oh . ’
It could have been the low light, but her pupils were huge and dark, drowning out the pale blue of her eyes. He bent down and slid a hand behind the swell of one of her calves. Aston eased off one nude stiletto and did the same to the other. Held out his hand and she placed hers in it without hesitation. He helped her up and undid the zip of her skirt. It slipped to the floor, leaving her in the exquisite camisole and panties of fine French lace. She was every fantasy brought to life. He wrapped his arms round her, kissed her. Let Ana feel just how much he wanted her. The kiss deepened and she began to grind herself against him. Needy, wanton. Clearly craving more than he was giving her.
Good.
He wanted her desperate, out of control, to stop her mind thinking and allow her body to take control, to take over.
‘Lie back on the bed,’ he murmured in her ear, kissing down her neck till she moaned. His hands stroked her back, goose bumps blooming on her skin. Aston backed her to the side of the bed and she sank into the soft covers, head on the plush pillows, lips apart as if there wasn’t enough air in the room to catch a breath.
He held her gaze as he kicked off his own shoes. Slowly undid his shirt, tugged it from his trousers. Dropped it to the floor. Her breaths became audible. The shuddering inhale, the soft exhale. He undid his trousers and pushed them down his legs. He left his underwear on for now, so Ana could take time to get used to the idea of him, how they would fit together. His body objected, wanting to be free of the constraints of the tight fabric.
Patience .
Her eyes widened as he allowed her to take her fill. Aston sucked in his own steadying breath as she stared at him, his torso, his arousal. Once he thought she’d seen enough, he took off his socks and moved beside her. He breathed the scent of her in, like the sweetest of spring roses.
‘The kissing all over starts now,’ he said, in part-anticipation, part-warning. He gently lifted the camisole over her head and dropped it beside them. Her bra matched her panties, sheer, delicate lace, her nipples straining against it.
‘Someone looks to be needing attention,’ he said, dropping his mouth to one nipple, then the next, tonguing their tight peaks in turn till Ana writhed underneath him. Driving his own need higher and harder. He unclipped her bra and tossed it away. Cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples as she arched back, panting. He dropped his head to her throat, trailing his lips down her body. Then he heard it, the breathless chanting of, ‘Please, please...’
‘I know what you need, Princess. Let me give it to you.’
His lips seemed to burn against her skin as he kissed down her body. He hooked his fingers into her panties, inching them down her legs as she struggled to get free of them. Once off her body, he rid himself of his own underwear, gritting himself against the feel of the coverlet on his overheated flesh.
She’d come first. He’d ensure it. Aston lowered his head to between her legs, splayed open as if inviting him. He kissed there, breathing in the heady scent of her own arousal, which made his head spin. Mon Dieu , the need for her... It clawed at him, demanded he rush to be inside her like some wild and rabid beast. He’d not experienced anything like it. He wanted to let it off the leash, to simply take.
But this was her first time, not the last time. He could be gentle, reverent, take his time and make her wait. It was what she deserved, the glorious mindlessness of pleasure. He used his tongue and his mouth to drive her higher and higher till she began to moan. He toyed at her entrance with his fingers, marvelling at how slick and wet she was, all for him. She began to beg once more, so he slid one finger inside, joined by another, in and out. Her breaths were mere pants. Ana was reduced to a creature of desire and feeling, and nothing more. It was a marvel to see her unbound, like some miracle. Then he curled his fingers inside and found a spot that made her stiffen. He concentrated on her clitoris and sucked. Her breathing stopped, then she threw her head back and wailed his name...
Just as he’d promised she would.
Everything exploded in a shower of light and sensation. Ana had never experienced anything like it. Time held no meaning bar this one, perfect moment. She floated as wave after wave of pleasure swamped her body. Drifting, untethered, but in a way that freed her. Then slowly she seemed to come back into herself. Her nerves still shimmering, over-sensitive.
She was aware of Aston sitting up briefly, opening the drawer of his bedside table. Protection. Then he returned, his kisses gentle, coaxing, setting her on fire again when she’d thought the pleasure of the moments before had extinguished it. She ran her hands over his muscular body, relishing how warm he was, how strong and sure. Relishing the contrast between her and him, the stiff hairs on his chest, arms and legs, rough against her skin. And even though her world had exploded around her, she still felt empty and wanting.
Aston rose over her. She parted her legs and he settled between them, forearms either side of his head, his thumbs stroking her temples.
‘I like my ring on your finger,’ he said.
‘I like it too.’ It was too extravagant, too much, yet no one had ever done anything like this for her before.
‘You know, I’d marry you tomorrow if the laws in France allowed it, but you deserve more than a rushed day, which isn’t exactly how you want it.’
The sentiment seemed so tender. Aston was thinking of her again. He’d seen her worth not in how she looked but who she was inside. That meant more to her than the ring, or promises of a wedding. Something inside her seemed to crack and break, as if allowing space for him. She knew there was no going back, not now.
He kissed her again. The tenderness had gone. This one, hot and feverish. His fingers at her nipple, his weight against her. Their bodies moved, creating a sweet ache inside. A need began building again, tighter and tighter, as they rocked together. His hardness slid against her. She wanted to be filled by him, to experience that blissful sense of release and floating once more. She lifted her hips as Aston eased himself inside her. She gloried in the feeling. The pressure, the fullness. He stopped, toying with her nipples again, sensation spearing between her legs as he slid forward and seated himself deep in her body.
‘Good?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ The word was almost only a breath. How close she felt to him in this moment. How much care he’d taken. There’d been no pain, only pleasure. He began to rock again, as if allowing her to get used to his size, then he really moved, thrusting in and out. She ran her hands down his body to his buttocks, feeling the way his hips flexed. The muscles as he drove into her in a hypnotic kind of rhythm. Becoming one. She was lost in the wonder of it, the dizzying sensations. The clawing need as it built again, deeper, a relentless ache. And then it came over with a roar of heat and ecstasy, as Aston groaned his own release.
Ruining them both.