Chapter Six #3
She nodded. He undid the buttons and pulled the shirt open. She immediately felt self-conscious. Her breasts were bigger and she’d all but forgotten about the belly, which now felt huge.
But Caius was looking at her, avid, cheeks flared with colour. Hesitantly, Poppy said, ‘I’m a bit…bigger.’
Caius slid the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms and it fell to the floor.
‘You are beautiful.’
She felt beautiful—as she’d felt beautiful on that first night.
So to be here with him again, and considering all that had happened in the meantime, was a little overwhelming.
To avoid thinking about it too much Poppy reached behind her and undid her bra, peeling it off and letting it drop to the floor.
Caius sucked in an audible breath and then said, ‘Deus…’
‘What language is that?’
Caius’s gaze was on her breasts, feasting on them. Poppy’s nipples tightened with need. They were more tender.
‘Hm?’ Caius looked up.
‘The…language…what you just said.’
‘It’s a mix…in Sadat, we’ve had so many influences that we have a dialect that’s a mishmash of about four different languages.’
And then he arched a brow. ‘I’m doing something wrong here if you’re more interested in linguistics right now.’
A little burble of laughter broke free and Poppy said, ‘No, it’s me… I tend to go into my head when I’m feeling…a little overwhelmed.’
He took her hand and led her over to the bed. ‘Well, let’s get you out of your head, OK?’
‘Yes, please.’
Poppy lay down and watched as Caius took off his shirt, revealing that glorious chest, and then he undid his shorts and pushed them down and off, with his underwear.
He kicked off shoes and then came over and undid Poppy’s shorts, pulling them down and off, along with her underwear, and then slid off her sneakers.
He looked at her for a long moment, eyes tracking over her body, and then he came down on the bed beside her.
‘Kiss me, Caius…please.’
He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his and she arched against him, needing to feel his body on hers. In hers. But he was being careful. She pulled back. ‘I’m not fragile, Caius…touch me, please.’
As if he’d needed her permission, he took her mouth again, hard, and then his hands were on her, tracing over her curves, her waist and the burgeoning bump of her belly, lingering there for a moment before moving up to cup her breasts. She pulled back a little and sucked in a breath.
He was looking at her. ‘Did I do something?’
She shook her head. ‘No, they’re just a bit…tender.’
‘I’ll go gently, then, shall I?’
Caius looked at her as he lowered his head again but this time his mouth found her nipple and closed over it, teasing with his teeth and tongue, and Poppy’s head nearly exploded at the sensation. It was torture. It was exquisite.
Then he was moving down and pressing kisses to her exposed skin, belly, hands shaping her as he moved, until he was at the juncture of her legs and pushing her thighs apart, rearing back a little so he could look at her.
Poppy felt so needy. ‘Please, Caius…do something.’ Pressure was building.
He obliged, coming down between her legs, and then everything went blurry when she felt his tongue on her, exploring the centre of her body in broad strokes, and then finding that little sensitive nub and sucking powerfully.
It was all Poppy needed to fly, and she soared so high she was afraid she’d never return to earth, but she did, floating back to reality, her body clasping and pulsating with pleasure.
Caius was reaching for something—protection—and Poppy said, ‘We don’t need that, do we?’
He looked at her and then at her belly and smiled a little ruefully. ‘No, I guess not. I’m clean, by the way, I had a check-up.’
Poppy felt shy. ‘I’ve only been with you.’
Caius had never been in this situation before. He was pretty certain he’d never slept with a virgin because he’d always sought out women who were experienced and would know how to play the game.
Poppy had been the exception to that rule. And it was truly disturbing how satisfying it was to hear her say that he had been her only lover. So much so that Caius shelved that away to think about…never.
She was laid out before him, her body glowing after her orgasm, curvy…
bountiful. And her belly, that small proud bump, under which grew his child.
His seed. Caius had never expected to feel any kind of a connection with his child, or children, after growing up with parents who’d paid scant attention to him or his sister.
But this…got to him on a deeply primal level.
Before he could let that thought grow roots and seriously freak him out, he obeyed the ravenous need of his body to be buried in this woman and he came down over her, careful to shield her from his full weight as he guided his cock to her entrance and almost came at the feel of her slick body.
He somehow managed not to explode and pushed inside, sweat breaking out on his brow as he sank in, deeper and deeper until he was buried to the hilt and her muscles were snug around him, like a hot silken sheath.
Merda. He’d never felt anything like it. Not even that first time had felt this good. He pulled back out again and watched Poppy’s eyes get a little dazed. Her hands were on his hips, fingers digging in.
‘You feel so good.’ He couldn’t keep the words back and normally he never spoke during sex.
‘You feel…amazing, don’t stop, Caius…’
He had no intention of it. He was in heaven and hell, simultaneously. The hell of needing to give into the urge to just explode and the heaven of eking out the pleasure so it would be even better.
He struck up a rhythm and felt Poppy’s body move with him.
Their skin was sheened with perspiration.
The need to let go was gathering at the base of Caius’s spine and drawing everything up tight, Poppy was biting her lip.
She was close but he was going to come before her unless he did something, so he bent down and put his mouth over one straining nipple, sucking the flesh deep into his mouth and rolling it under his tongue.
He heard Poppy’s cry just as she arched into him and the muscles of her vagina clamped so tight around him that he came in a torrent of ecstasy, his whole body jerking helplessly, losing all control or do anything but ride the wave.
In the aftershocks of pleasure, Caius extricated himself from Poppy’s still-clasping body and slumped down beside her, instinctively pulling her close, a hand over her belly.
He wasn’t going to think about the fact that normally after sex he couldn’t get free fast enough. He was in no fit state to consider that now. All he could do was follow the dictates of his body and slide into a pleasure coma.
When Poppy woke it was dusk outside. She lifted her head, sensing immediately she was alone.
She was practically spreadeagled on the bed, naked from the waist up, and the thought of Caius being somewhere nearby, coming back and finding her in this wanton state, had her pulling up the sheet like a blushing virgin.
She most definitely was not a virgin. She couldn’t believe the day was practically gone.
She remembered waking after they’d made love that first time, and, without words, they’d made love again, Caius taking Poppy from behind, lifting her leg, his hands full of her breasts, climaxing together within minutes. Fast and silent and intense.
And so from then…to now, she’d been unconscious. This time she was the one waking up and finding herself alone. As Caius would have if he hadn’t caught her trying to steal out of that room in Paris.
She had to admit it didn’t feel all that nice.
She felt insecure. Wondering if she’d embarrassed herself by her responses.
Had she been gauche? Had her inexperience been a turn-off?
And she hadn’t realised how much she’d like the way Caius had tucked her into him, curling his big body around hers, hands possessively on her breasts.
She’d never considered herself a very tactile person. Neither of her parents had been all that tactile and she’d instinctively avoided it all her life—another way to avoid rejection, don’t seek contact!—so it was something of a surprise to find that she liked it.
A lot. Before she could think about that too much, she got up and saw her clothes placed neatly across the back of a chair.
Had Caius done that? She couldn’t imagine the staff would have intruded.
Clutching her clothes to her, she went through the adjoining door that led into her suite and straight into the shower, tucking her hair up and out of the way.
After the shower she dithered over what to wear.
What was this? What were they doing here?
Apart, obviously, from doing what every other newly-wed couple did—but they weren’t every other newly-wed couple.
If it weren’t for this crazy chemistry, no doubt they’d be at opposite ends of the chateau minding their own business.
A dark green colour caught Poppy’s eye and she reached for it.
It was a silk maxi-dress, loose and flowing, high neck but sleeveless.
Not too fancy. Not too casual. She pulled it on before she could obsess over it too much and brushed her hair out and put on a minimum of make-up.
Wedge sandals. She tried not to think about how the silk felt next to her sensitised skin. It felt sensual. Sexy.
As she went down into the chateau she cursed herself for feeling apprehensive. Nervous. Like a teenager going on a date.
Some candles were lighting along the corridors but it was suspiciously quiet. Poppy suddenly realised she was ravenous and made her way down to the big open-plan rustic kitchen. Maybe Caius was in the office that had been set up for him?
She wasn’t going to go looking for him like some— She stopped on the threshold of the kitchen. She didn’t have to go looking for Caius because he was here. In worn jeans and a fresh T-shirt. Hair damp. Doing something at the cooker.