Chapter Eleven #2
Fotis’ chest clamped painfully around his fast-beating heart. No wonder she’d vibrated with dislike at having another bodyguard.
Her story only made her courage in standing up for Dimi more remarkable. She’d put herself in the firing line of public censure for a stranger.
He groped for her hand and held it tight.
‘You’re a remarkable woman, Rosa.’ Misty eyes turned to his and he wished things could have been different for her. ‘I hope your father realised that eventually.’
She snorted. ‘Hardly. According to him I was too like my mother. Emotional, reckless, more likely to act on the spur of the moment than follow royal protocol or common sense.’
‘Your father sounds like a prig and a fool.’
She laughed, the sound snapping some of the tension that had grown as he heard her story. ‘But a powerful prig.’
‘And your mother… She was an incredibly popular queen.’
‘Exactly. Far more popular than him. He liked everything done his way. He didn’t like change or spontaneity.’
And Rosa, beneath her public veneer of calm elegance, was both spontaneous and passionate, bewitchingly so.
Fotis began to realise how tough her home life must have been, especially after her mother died.
‘It seems like we were both cursed with one good parent and one we’d rather forget.’
She turned her hand to thread her fingers through his, chuckling. ‘It’s incredible we turned out so well adjusted, isn’t it?’
Fotis’ lips stretched in a rare grin. He was a recluse who specialised in keeping people at a distance. And for all Rosa’s warmth, he suspected she had few true friends.
He found it hard to trust, women in particular, and he’d long ago decided not to have a family because caring deeply risked far too much pain. Nico’s death still haunted him.
He suspected Rosa found it difficult to trust, men especially, and though she claimed to live her life exactly as she wanted, she felt the need to prove that to the press and the world at large. Which meant they still affected her decisions and she wasn’t as free as she believed.
‘You’re right. We are incredible.’
He pressed his lips to her knuckles, hearing her indrawn breath. Her turned her hand over and tasted apricots.
His luscious woman.
She shuddered as he kissed her palm. ‘Fotis.’
Her voice was a raw whisper that sent longing straight and hard to his groin.
‘I want you, Rosa. Now.’
Her eyes darkened. ‘Yes.’
Fotis tugged her closer, unbearably aroused by her answering desire. She never played coy games. He loved her ardour. It fed his own. Instead of dimming, their passion glowed hotter and more urgent with each day that passed. It was beyond anything he’d experienced.
But he refused to stop and analyse why.
‘The food.’ She was on her knees beside him, pushing aside platters.
But Fotis couldn’t wait. Usually he could conjure at least a semblance of patience but something had changed as they shared their stories. Something deep and raw had opened inside him and he needed her now.
His heart ached for the pain she suffered. At the same time he was proud of her courage, her determination to stand strong despite others’ judgement.
And her tenderness… There was something addictive about her tenderness.
Impatient, he swept aside the picnic. The wine bottle fell over, dousing his ankle through his sock. He didn’t even look. He only had eyes for Rosa, pulling her closer.
‘Lift your leg over me,’ he commanded, voice harsh.
Instead of taking issue with his tone, she favoured him with a sultry smile that undid another of the complicated, emotion-proof knots he’d tied around his heart. He felt it come free, but didn’t worry. He’d spent so long building barriers it would take more than a smile to destroy them all.
Rosa lifted her leg over his hips as he thrust a hand in his pocket and dragged out a condom.
Her eyebrows arched as she took it from him and tore it open with her teeth. ‘Boy Scout?’
‘Something like that,’ he muttered as he fumbled to open his jeans. Now wasn’t the time to explain that from the time of his father’s death he’d learned to be hyper-alert, planning ahead. He’d had to anticipate his mother’s mood swings and other dangers, like the one that had taken Nico from him.
But this time even the thought of his failure to protect his little brother couldn’t dim Fotis’ arousal.
Finally he pulled himself free of his jeans and underwear.
‘Let me.’ She shuffled back, her red dress teasing his erection until she brushed the cotton aside and leaned forward to smooth on the condom.
Fotis wanted to push her hands away. He gritted his teeth and summoned all his strength not to lose himself at her deliberate, slow strokes as she smoothed the rubber down his rigid length.
But nothing in this world could have made him look away.
No woman had ever been more seductive. Her pouting concentration as she worked and the press of peaked nipples against her dress were enough to make him wonder how long he’d last.
‘Rosa!’ It was a growl of warning but instead of retreating, she smiled and shuffled closer, kneeling high above him.
‘Fotis?’
He heard the hint of laughter, the self-congratulatory tone of a woman who knew he was at her mercy. He adored it.
With Rosa he’d discovered sex could be fun. That spending the night with a lover could be a delight, rather than the potential burden he’d believed. For she’d made it clear all she expected was a short-term relationship.
Just as well, because that was all he could give.
‘Rosa,’ he purred, reaching under her dress, stroking up her satiny thigh to the narrow strip of lace between her legs. It was gratifyingly wet.
She tilted her pelvis, pushing against him as he rubbed the heel of his hand against her core. She bit her bottom lip, eyelids lowering as she ground against his touch.
Her hand tightened as she tested his length, almost sending him over the edge.
He lifted his other hand to her breast, cupping it through the thin fabric. She moaned softly as he pinched her nipple and rubbed it between thumb and forefinger.
She scrabbled to lift her skirt, shifting forward until his erection nudged her underwear. Fotis dragged the lace barrier aside, felt her sink, just a centimetre till he was notched at her entrance.
‘Ready?’ Her wetness and the light tang of feminine arousal in the air told him she was. But he was far past the point of patient seduction and wanted her primed to accommodate him. He didn’t want to hurt her.
‘Ready?’ She shook her head as she covered his hand with hers, pressing it hard against her breast as she circled her hips, tantalising him with the promise of what was to come. ‘I’ve been ready since before you unzipped your jeans. What are you waiting for?’
‘Well, if you’re sure…’ He slid his hand from beneath hers, her groan of regret turning to a sigh of anticipation as he shoved both hands under her skirt. He clamped her hips and, holding her stare, yanked her down as he thrust high off the ground.
Heaven had another name. Rosa.
Slick, tight muscles. Velvety heat that clutched at him as he pushed deep, impossibly deep, until he was embedded and there was no space between them.
Sharp pain sliced his chest as he forgot to breathe, but it was a small price to pay for the euphoria of their joining.
Her breasts rose on a jerky breath. ‘Okay?’ he croaked, unsure if pleasure or pain drew her features tight.
Until she nodded, gasping, ‘You don’t know how okay.’
She leaned forward, planting her hands on his shoulders. The changed angle slid him even further in, if that were possible. It felt so incredible, she felt so incredible, he couldn’t trust his senses. Surely nothing had ever been this perfect?
Still gripping her hips, Fotis lifted her just a little, circling his hips, watching her expression change from taut to shocked pleasure. Again he pulled her down hard as he thrust, setting off detonations of piercing pleasure.
Their gasps mingled before being swept away in the sea breeze.
‘More,’ she demanded, lifting her hips.
Fotis revelled in his demanding lover, so eager for everything he could give her. Then thoughts spiralled away as he leaned up and drew her nipple into his mouth through the fine fabric and lust took over.
Jerking his hips higher, he slammed her down to meet him, senses overloading at the sheer perfection of them together. He sucked at her breast as she rotated her pelvis and threw them both off the pinnacle into bliss.
Fire engulfed him. Planets collided and splintered. Through it all he held Rosa tight, riding the shock waves, hearing her whimpers of pleasure.
Ages later when it was over, he lifted shaky hands to pull her down to collapse onto his chest. He felt her heart hammering, her breath steamy against his chest where his shirt had torn open. Her hair tickled his skin.
She was a dead weight, all that softness pressed against him. The air smelled of sex, the sea, and the cinnamon-vanilla scent of the only woman to undo him completely.
He’d never felt so…happy.
For the first time since adulthood he didn’t question the rare sensation or try to analyse it. He just tightened his arms about her and let himself drift in a haze of well-being.