Chapter 12 #3
Caught up in the wash of her thoughts, it took a moment for Peyton to realise that the stroking had stopped and her eyes popped open.
‘Hey,’ she protested quietly, lifting her head to look at him. ‘You stopped.’
What she saw cut the breath in her throat. Valentino looking at her hand splayed against her belly with intense longing. When his gaze finally lifted, it locked with hers. ‘Can I… can I see?’
He was so unsure, and Peyton blinked at this version of Valentino. She’d never seen him like this before, this suave Italian playboy surgeon. He was always so in control, in command, and she could have no more refused this needier version of him than have got her boneless body up off the couch.
Not trusting her voice, Peyton nodded as she slowly inched the fabric of her T-shirt up her abdomen until the small bulge of her pregnancy was exposed to his view. His dark eyes followed the movement intently, the suck of his breath as she lay fully exposed to him loud in the quiet room.
‘So beautiful,’ he whispered, staring reverently for long moments before his gaze met hers again. ‘May I?’
Peyton lifted her hands away, giving him free reign, watching as his hands left her feet, slid up the sides of her thighs, to hips that were less angular these days and onto her stomach.
Her muscles contracted beneath his touch as he pulled the waistband of her skirt down slightly before his hands moved to cradle his child.
Peyton widened her legs to allow him better access, which Valentino took, closing the gap, his lips landing on her belly gently, dropping a string of kisses across the swell.
Unbelievably touched by his reverence, her eyes blurred and her fingers speared into his hair.
He nuzzled then, his tongue joining in, swirling wet circles, the erotic scrape of his three-day growth producing a tiny whimper from the back of her throat.
He glanced up, resting his chin lightly against the rise of her stomach, and the air in Peyton’s lungs felt heavy as sand.
Not taking his eyes off hers, Valentino’s hands pushed beneath the hem of her T-shirt and moved slowly – ever so slowly – up.
It was more than clear to her that she could tell him to stop at any time and he would.
But Peyton did not want him to stop.
His fingers brushed her breasts, which had filled out enough to have an undercurve. They stroked higher as the shirt rode ever upwards, the taut peaks of her nipples beneath the lace finally feeling the unhurried swipe of his fingers.
Peyton cried out at the pleasure, calling his name as she arched her back, needing him to kiss her, raising her head to demand it only to find him right there, looming over her, dropping his head to claim her mouth.
And there was no holding back. His mouth was sweeter than she remembered and she couldn’t get enough, opening to him, drowning in the taste of his deep guttural groan, clinging to him like she had that first time together.
She was greedy and so damn needy all at once, her pulse a rushing river in her ears.
Big hands pushed aside her bra cups and Peyton arched into his palm as he squeezed, his mouth breaking from hers to suck the taut bud into his mouth, his teeth scraping against the tip mercilessly. It felt so damn good, it was all Peyton could do to not scream in pleasure.
Releasing it, Valentino looked down at her and muttered, ‘Ti voglio troppo.’
Peyton didn’t know what it meant but he looked like he wanted to devour her and, after months of banked desire, she knew exactly how he felt. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs as she burnt up beneath his incendiary stare. She wanted him in her so badly she could almost feel him.
But even halfway crazy with lust she knew she couldn’t risk going all the way.
‘We can’t…’
‘I know, it’s okay.’ He nuzzled her neck, whispering, ‘Lie on your side.’
Peyton gave him kudos for having a plan – she was beyond such things.
Eagerly she followed his instructions and then they were on their sides facing each other and Valentino’s mouth was plundering hers and his hands were roaming over her breasts and stomach, sliding beneath the waistband of her underwear.
Her hands roamed too, plucking at Valentino’s shirt, lifting it over his head. The fly of his trousers was next, the zip ceding quickly to her questing fingers, his erection brushing her knuckles before she slipped her hand inside his underwear, filling her hand with his thick, hard cock.
‘Dio!’
Valentino groaned into her neck, and she squeezed the length of him just so he’d make that sound again. ‘You feel so good,’ she panted as she palmed him from root to tip.
‘So do you,’ he muttered, his mouth closing over her nipple again as his fingers found the slippery folds of her sex.
Peyton cried out, clutching one of his shoulders hard as every erogenous zone in her body quivered in delicious union. Unfortunately, it was also the precise moment a phone rang from somewhere very close by.
They both stopped at the intrusion, the ragged edge of their breathing the only other sound in the room. Peyton cursed the phone silently; Valentino cursed it out loud.
In Italian.
How could this be happening now? Why hadn’t they switched their phones off? Because Peyton never switched her phone off – not with McKenzie to look out for.
A prickle of alarm sparked to life. Was something up with McKenzie? But it wasn’t for her.
Valentino frowned. ‘That’s my sister’s ring tone.’ He checked his watch, his brows furrowing deeply as he said, ‘It’s three in the morning back home.’
Peyton knew that nobody rang at three in the morning for something trivial.
‘I’m sorry. I have to get that.’
‘Of course.’ She didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course.’
And she meant it, but her body craved his the second he rolled away from her, adjusting his clothes and fishing in his back pocket for his mobile. Even more so when he turned his back on her and paced away as he answered with a ‘Ciao.’
Peyton listened absently to the conversation in Italian she didn’t understand as she pulled her shirt down, adjusted her skirt and swung her feet to the floor. When he turned back it was obvious something was very wrong.
‘That was my sister, Carmella.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘My mother has been in a car accident not far from where we live.’
Peyton sucked in a sharp breath as she stood. ‘Is she alright?’
He shut his eyes briefly, the weight of the world suddenly upon his shoulders, and Peyton itched to go to him but she hesitated. She’d spent so long keeping him at arm’s length physically and emotionally, she didn’t know what he needed right now.
His dark eyes opened, capturing her in their beam. ‘I don’t know… No-one knows much at the moment. My sister was very upset. They’re flying her to Rome for exploratory surgery.’
‘Okay.’ That could mean anything.
‘I… have to go. I know it’s awful timing, but—’
‘Of course.’ Peyton took a step forward. ‘You must. Don’t worry about this. Just go.’
He nodded but he looked absolutely torn. ‘Come with me.’
Peyton blinked at the leftfield request. Was he serious? Had the haze of unsatiated lust fried his brain cells? In another world maybe but… not this one.
‘I… can’t, Valentino. I can’t just up and leave. I have McKenzie and work and—’
‘It’ll just be a few days, maybe a week, until I know. Your parents wouldn’t mind. I can pay them to—’
‘No.’ Peyton shook her head, knowing he wasn’t thinking straight now but she was dismayed nonetheless. This was the reality of her life and her parents were not paid babysitters. They were loving grandparents who she’d never take advantage of like that. ‘I’m not leaving McKenzie.’
He tensed, raking a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. ‘Sorry, of course.’ He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Fine.’
Fine…
Did he think she was being dramatic? ‘Valentino.’ She stepped towards him, reaching for him. How had they gone from the heights of sexual dizziness to this? ‘You know this isn’t possible.’
A nerve jumped in his jaw and he flinched as she touched him. ‘Anything’s possible.’
Peyton dropped her hand. ‘No. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You can drop things and just leave. Like right now. I can’t.’
Grasping her by the upper arms, he gazed into her eyes for long moments, his dark eyes flinty. ‘Marry me.’
If he’d shape-shifted into an animal right now, Peyton couldn’t have been more surprised. Of all the times he’d proposed to her, this one actually stung. She knew it was coming from a deep well of concern for his mother but that didn’t make it any less difficult to deal with.
Peyton shifted against the restraining bands of his hands. ‘Go to your mother,’ she said. ‘Go home.’
He stared at her for long moments, frustration and indecision toying for top billing in the stormy brew of his eyes as he released her arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
Peyton linked her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug because even though she was angry and disappointed with him now, he was still flying halfway around the world to an uncertain family situation.
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered. They could talk about it when he got back. ‘Now go.’
He turned away and left then but it wasn’t until she heard the front door slam that a sob caught in her throat and Peyton realised the awful truth. She loved him. Loved a man who didn’t love her back.
A man who wanted to marry her for all the wrong reasons. And there was nothing she could do but keep it to herself and never let him know.