Chapter Twelve
APOLLO LED HER along a pathway through the foliage and up along a rugged cliff edge, and as they climbed the carved stone steps he pointed to the various sights of St George visible in the distance.
He told her how every aspect of the resort had been thought out and planned to keep the natural shape of the island and avoid inundating the landscape with more concrete and glass.
She heard her own swift intake of breath when they reached the top step and she caught sight of what he’d told her was one of his favourite places in the whole of Grenada.
His treehouse, as he called it, wasn’t quite built up into the trees so much as it had been nestled between them so that it almost blended seamlessly with its surroundings.
It was fully fitted out inside, with tiled floors and running water, and all the modern amenities that one might expect of a wealthy man’s home.
But it was quiet and cut off from the rest of the island in a way that suited the deepest part of him.
‘This place is amazing, Apollo.’
‘Not here,’ he growled, easily lifting her up in his arms. ‘Fair warning: when I finally get you into a bed, I don’t plan on letting you out of it for a very long time.’
She was vaguely aware of him lowering them both to the bed, tucking a pillow beneath her head before pulling back. His eyes were dark and attentive as he smoothed a hand along her jaw in that way she liked—the way that made her feel treasured and possessed all at once.
‘Please, Apollo,’ she urged, reaching for him, but he was already sitting back on his heels, staring down at her.
‘I’m going to take my time now, I think,’ he said, his voice a husky murmur as he trailed his fingertips down her neck and along the sweetheart neckline of her sundress. ‘I finally have you in my bed, right where I want you… I don’t want to miss a single second of you losing control for me.’
Oh…he was a dirty talker, alright. The memory of the sinful words he’d rasped in her ear all those years ago came flooding back with full force and she practically whimpered at the need to feel his body against hers.
This felt like a punishment and reward all at once, finally having his full attention.
‘Have you any idea how long I fantasised about having you like this?’ he asked, his eyes still glued to where his fingers slowly peeled back the linen material of her dress from her skin.
As the dusky pink of her nipple was revealed to his hungry gaze, he moaned low in his throat.
‘Look at that…spread out for me like a treat. This is the only way you should be pleasured, out in the open, where every perfect inch of your skin is on show.’
As if to emphasise that point, he dipped his head and licked her. It was possibly the most erotic thing she had ever seen. She couldn’t look away as his mouth traced a path lower, his fingers slowly pulling down her clothing until her breasts were exposed to the cool breeze.
‘God, you are delicious.’
The heat of his mouth almost enveloped one breast whole, her nipple sliding between his teeth in a way that sent a direct hit of pleasure to her core. She was already damp for him; she had no idea how she might last any longer without bursting into flames entirely.
A row of buttons were all that kept him from seeing her completely bare and she couldn’t stop the flash of insecurity, wondering what he would see.
Her body had changed a lot with her pregnancy, stretching and growing their child, and bringing her almost to the brink of what she’d thought she was able to do as a human.
But, as his hands smoothed down over the softness of her stomach and hips, his lips followed suit, kissing along each thin line, and she felt herself relax into the sensations he invoked.
This man had proved to her over and over again that his attraction was the one thing she did not need to guess at when it came to them being together.
The desire that she had felt for him from the moment they’d first met was a kind of deep, primal hunger and awareness, not something ruled by the perfection of his muscles or the stark lines of his perfectly chiselled jaw. So why wouldn’t it be the same for him?
‘I wish I could have seen you pregnant…growing our child.’ He kissed across her skin, his eyes meeting hers. ‘You should have been worshipped then, but I’ll have to do my best to make up for it now.’
‘I’m all for worship…it’s been a long time for me.’
‘How long?’ he asked. ‘Wait…you don’t have to answer that. It doesn’t matter; all that matters to me is that you’re here with me now, not how you spent our time apart.’
‘I haven’t been with anyone else. Not since I fell pregnant.’
Apollo’s gaze sharpened upon her, his fingertips tightening at her waist. ‘No one?’
She shook her head slowly.
‘Why?’
‘Many reasons…time and lack of interest. But mainly because the only person I thought about was a man I couldn’t find.’
‘Astrid…’ He tutted softly. ‘You’re telling me that all this time, you’ve been completely unsatisfied, untouched?
It’s a crime. I thought of you, too, almost every time I stepped into that lift, so much that I had to stop going back to that hotel.
Flashes of your scent would hit me when I was out in public and I would convince myself that you were somewhere nearby.
Desiring you…it drove me mad. I used to take myself in my hand, and try to cling to every second of memory that I could recall.
Did you ever think of me, all alone in your bed? ’
She knew what he was asking, and she pushed past her own embarrassment, sliding her hands down along her body while his hungry gaze followed the movement ‘Yes. I used to touch myself, trying to re-create the way you touched me.’
‘Show me.’
She did as she was told, sliding one finger along the moist seam of her sex and circling herself right where it felt best, just as she had done for years all alone, bringing herself to quiet climax to the memory of that one perfect encounter.
It wasn’t just that time that had fuelled her fantasies, of course; she had a little imagination.
She frequently imagined how her mystery lover would come and find her, striding into her bedroom like some kind of white knight and immediately falling to his knees to worship her… not unlike this very moment.
She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking he was her saviour or anything of the sort; she did not need saving. But she did need him, at least in this way, and she was pretty sure he needed her too.
She touched herself slowly at first, then began to quicken her pace as her pleasure built. Apollo’s eyes darkened and his nostrils flared, his hands sliding from her knee up to her hips and down over her wrist, till his strong fingers covered her own.
‘Don’t stop, Astrid. Show me how you longed for me; let me see you.’
She realised that he meant her to bring herself to climax in front of him, and the idea of it was so overly shocking she felt her insides coil even tighter as she began to move up against the combined pressure of their hands. ‘Apollo…’
‘That’s it, my name, only mine on your lips while you lose it for me. Let go, let it all go, and show me how perfect you are.’
The way he talked…the way he looked at her…
every part of this…seemed to combine into a perfect storm of desire and she knew she was about to do exactly as he said.
Her release built slowly at first, with the pressure of his hand throwing off her own usual rhythm, but then she was no longer in control. He was.
She felt the ripples of her release move through her like a wave, washing away every last vestige of doubt that she still possessed about this wild thing between them. Because nothing that felt this good, this right, could ever be bad.
As her breathing slowed, and her heartbeat raced, she was aware of Apollo taking her hand in his own.
He clasped her fingers, still slick with her own desire, and raised it to his mouth, cleaning away every last drop of her release.
She didn’t even have the good sense to be embarrassed or shocked; watching him do something so depraved only seemed to stir her desire deeper.
Her release had simply loosened something within her rather than completely assuaging it, and she wanted more, so much more.
But, first, she wanted to see him.
Feeling emboldened, she found the strength to raise herself up from the bed and pushed him down until he lay on his back looking up at her.
He didn’t need to, of course; he outweighed her in size and strength, and could easily have resisted, which somehow made his compliance all the more meaningful.
She took a moment simply to explore his body with her hands as he had done with her, following the ink of the tattoos that covered the wide expanse of his chest and shoulders; feeling the coarse hair there, which she was very grateful he hadn’t waxed away.
The power in his frame was evident in the bulge of muscle on his shoulders, his pecs and lower, to his abdomen, which seemed to tighten at her touch.
She had unbuttoned his shirt, but his jeans still remained, although they were visibly straining at the zip.
‘I want to see you too,’ she said boldly. Taking her time, popping open the top button and sliding the zip down, he easily sprang free from the restrictive material of his underwear. Her breath caught as she took a moment simply to stare at the beautiful, heavy length of him.
This part of him had been inside her before, but she had never seen it.
So she took her time, gliding her hands over the silky, hot length of him and feeling where he was slick with the evidence of his desire for her and the effect she’d had on him.
She leaned forward, pressing a kiss on the side, meeting his eyes as she slid her tongue from root to tip and tasted a drop.
‘Dio, Astrid, again.’