Chapter Eight
He was lost. Crazed. Someone else.
And he didn’t care. Not when he licked deep into the center of her. Her taste would haunt him, but if this was his curse, it was worth it all. He teased, he tortured, until she was sobbing through another climax and his body was as tense and taut as it had ever been.
Raging need had replaced any thought. There was only finding his own end. He pushed her back on the bed, scooting her back so he could range his body over the soft, sweet curves of hers.
“Gorgeous,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to one breast. “Perfect.” He slid his hand over her leg, making a place for him to position himself between her legs.
She was making all sorts of noises now, writhing there underneath him. Perfect didn’t begin to cover it, but there was a sleeping child in the next room, and he could not stand to have her wake up before he finished this.
He placed his hand over Mara’s mouth, holding himself at the entrance of her. Of everything he wanted. “You must be quiet,” he warned her in a low, tight growl.
She nodded against the loose hold he had on her mouth. But there was something dangerous and erotic about it. Her eyes were wide but not in fear. Not if the way she writhed against him was anything to go by.
When he slid inside, one desperate quick thrust, she moaned against his hand, and it at least muffled the sound. Then she began to move against him, her sweet, perfect body all desperate, agonized need.
She was everything. The center of every universe he’d ever known. So, he took control, one hand on her mouth, one holding her hips still so it was him moving into her, slow. Agonizingly slow.
He loved the whimpers she made against his hand, the way she tried to fight him for quicker, faster, but he wanted to drag it out, to find every ounce of pleasure in the molten heat of her.
When he got a little too close, he shifted into a roll, moving onto his back, so that she was on top of him, and he could see the beautiful form of her perfect breasts. He reached out, cupped them again, toyed with the dark nipples until she was panting, gasping, bucking against him.
“Find it, ninfa. Find your release again. Give me everything.”
And she did, desperately, and when she got a little too loud, he pulled her down, crashed his mouth to hers to keep her quiet.
To absorb the sounds she made as she came apart around him.
So she would do the same as he lost his last strand of control and emptied himself into her on a surging, pulsing detonation.
He could not have determined how long he lay there, feeling the raging cadence of her heart against his own.
When he finally had the wherewithal to roll her off of him, he could not quite break the connection as he should have.
Their shoulders were pressed together, both still coming down from the high.
What a mess he’d made. A beautiful, terrible mess.
Mara knew in this aftermath she had to find some semblance of control. Of rational thought.
He’d made it clear this was a one-time thing. He’d made it clear this would solve their tension and things would go back to normal.
She wanted to laugh out loud.
Nothing would ever be normal again. She could quit her job, travel a world away from him, and she would never be the same.
He’d done something to her, showed her a pleasure she did not know existed with another. Not that she had much experience. She’d tackled her virginity much like she’d tackled making her way in the world, with focus, planning and careful, reasonable expectations.
Her one and only boyfriend hadn’t so much as caused a flutter inside of her, but he had been steady.
Sturdy. She’d thought she could count on him, and that she could build the stability that she and her mother and her siblings needed in the wake of all the upheaval and struggle their father’s abandonment had caused.
Instead, Javi had broken up with her when she’d started the job with Agustin—not wanting to be outearned by a woman who cared more for her job than him. She’d considered it a wakeup call.
No one stayed, not fathers, not lovers. People did not have the fortitude she expected of them, so she refused to expect it anymore. She would be the foundation. And she had been, all these years, a foundation for herself and her family—needed by all. Her family. Her boss.
Agustin.
Everything was ruined.
No, you won’t let it be. She had been ruined before.
At twelve, when her father had gone and left them with nothing.
When their entire lives had become a struggle, a scrabble, a mess.
She had crawled out of that, learned many an important lesson about depending on herself, about what it meant to be needed.
Two years ago she had not let herself be ruined when Javi had upended everything personal she’d built. She’d been reminded. She’d been determined.
She would never let a man ruin her again.
She moved off the bed. Began to collect her clothes and put them back on. Part of her wanted to keep walking, right out of the room, without addressing anything that had happened, but how would she face him in the morning if she did that?
She couldn’t let this horrible, desperately wonderful mistake ruin her life. So, gathering all her strength and courage, she turned to face him.
He lay on the bed, his dark eyes heavy-lidded but watching her. He made no move for his clothes. No move to cover himself.
Something stirred in her again. Impossible. He was…impossible.
He pushed himself into a sitting position. “Mara.”
He said nothing else, just her name. He sounded almost pained. But she knew him too well, had worked for him too long, not to see the regret in his expression, even in the dim light.
“This was a one-time thing, as you said. The countess will come next week, and you will get on with that life, and I will maintain mine.”
He studied her with something in his gaze she didn’t recognize. But it had something to do with her bringing up the countess. She didn’t want to determine what, though.
“The countess and I do not have this kind of relationship,” he said at length. “But I will not lie to her about it.”
Panic tried to override sense. She wouldn’t let it. She squeezed her hands into fists to steady her. “She will not want me working for you if she has any hope of a real marriage somewhere along the line. I will not lose my position because you want to be honest.”
“That is not up to her. You always have a place at Sosten. That is a promise.”
Sosten. They were standing here in various states of undress talking about work. Mara wanted to laugh, but if she did, she was afraid it would turn into crying very quickly.
She kept her chin high. She kept the emotion out of her voice. She hoped. “That is all I require.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth, a rare gesture that made it seem like he was not quite so certain. But Mara had to be. She had promised herself no one would abandon her again. She could not let this man mean more simply because the sex had been good.
Her job was more important than him. Than…anything. It was who she was. And this blip, this curse needed to be forgotten.
She turned and left without letting him say anything else. She checked on Julia in the crib, but the baby was sound asleep.
So she crawled into the giant bed, that the countess would be sleeping in next week, and cried herself to sleep, muffled by the pillow so the baby would not be woken up.