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‘I’ve been ready all day,’ she said scornfully.
His pupils dilated. Without breaking that searing eye contact, he slid a firm hand up her inner thigh, not hesitating to go higher, to stroke her and find she was right.
His word was short, pithy and to the point. And he’d stepped up before he’d finished saying it.
She screamed raw victory as he bucked hard and filled her right where she needed him. Physical. That was what this was. For the first time in her life she was in thrall to unrefined, hot lust. And it was the best thing ever.
Tomas watched the savage emotions flicker across her face as she first softened, then tightened about him. She couldn’t hide it from him—the need, the rapture she felt as he took her. Saucy little moans spilled from her mouth as he thrust again. Hot desire flooded him, blinding him in a flash to everything but the need to feel her even more. Now. He thrust harder, his need overtaking him sooner than he’d ever intended.
‘Zara,’ he warned her hoarsely as he felt his control slip. But she was too slippery, too hot, too welcoming and his body’s demands drove him on. He needed to get deeper inside her. Deeper, harder, faster. He grabbed her, lifting her a fraction so he could.
‘Yes,’ she cried as he uncontrollably rammed into her over and over. ‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’
‘Oh, Zara.’ His world splintered as satisfaction gushed through him, out of him, and into her. Too soon. Too damn soon.
‘Tomas!’
His relief was multiplied tenfold as he felt her come hard at the exact moment he locked into her in his one last, fierce thrust to orgasm. They clenched together for a long moment. Both shaking, revelling in the wild pulses of pleasure.
Then he pressed his head against her shoulder, breathing hard in recovery. He half laughed. That had been too fast to count.
But for the first time in months he felt wholly strong again. He wanted to prove it, to revel in it and take every pleasure with her. Sex with Zara made him feel invincible. Not even his leg seemed to bother him as much today. Maybe this was the exact kind of workout it had needed.
He kissed her deeply, then led her back to her bedroom to reposition her on her bed, determined to take it slower this time. Wanting to show her every way he could think to pleasure her. Her eyes widened but she welcomed him with that hot, sweet enthusiasm of hers. He wanted to hear her scream his name again and again. He wanted to feel the dynamism in her body, and then feel her fall soft and relaxed and curl into him. Sated and sweet and sexy.
But her lids grew heavy again as she drank in his body when he pulled away after the second time, to fetch them both a drink of water.
Insatiable minx.
‘So you didn’t give me your virginity because you were in love with me?’ he teased as he lifted the glass to her lips as she lay sprawled in a tangle of sexiness on the bed.
She spluttered as she sipped and took the glass from him with a baleful look.
‘Were you in love with the woman you lost your virginity to?’ she asked him with a frown. Then her eyes widened in horror. ‘That’s if you... Oh, I’m sorry.’
Her blush was beautiful.
‘Actually, yes, I do remember it, because I wasn’t as old as you when I lost it.’ He half laughed at her concern.
His sexual awakening had been during the torment of his mid-teen years when he’d been on the streets and hustling cards to survive.
She was silent a second. ‘Were you in love with her?’
He shook his head. He was never in love with anyone. And wouldn’t be. He didn’t really know what love was. But he sure as hell knew what it wasn’t.
‘I was tired and alone and she made me welcome.’ He set the water down on the table beside the bed. ‘She did things that made me feel good and showed me how to make her feel good too.’
She’d shown him that sex didn’t have to be anything other than a physical pleasure between two willing partners. That was all it had to be. Nothing tacky or a sleazy transaction, but nothing meaningful either. Just release. And for him, that was all it would ever be. Except he’d forgotten just how good it could feel.
But hedonism took you only so far.
‘But?’ she prompted, sensing his hesitation.
‘The good feeling doesn’t last,’ he admitted, needing to warn her. ‘Other things get in the way.’
‘What other things?’ She looked wary.
‘Other wants.’
‘She wanted what you couldn’t give?’
‘I wanted different things from her,’ he clarified. ‘Don’t be mistaken, there was no love between us. No heartbreak. We were together only a handful of times before it ended.’
But he remembered too well the fine line it was between mutual pleasure and the need for more. What people would do when they were desperate. He’d vowed not to take advantage of the vulnerable in the way that people had tried to take advantage of him as a youth. Of the way people had taken advantage of his mother. And he knew how vulnerability led to temptation. Selling out might seem like an easier option, but it had only led his mother to destitution and despair.
He’d fought a different battle, leaving Italy to further his prospects in England—knowing he needed education and opportunity. He’d worked to gain both. He’d worked hard.
Zara had quietened as she watched him remembering.
He frowned, knowing if he thought too much further there’d be too much he couldn’t remember. The darkness would settle.
He moved so he could tease her most sensitive parts as gently as he could.
‘How is it possible it can feel even better than before?’ she muttered dreamily as she arched into his embrace.
His arms tightened about her. She had a point there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘Would it be so awful if the world knew?’
‘THE SNOW IS too severe for Jasper to drive,’ Tomas announced as he walked into the kitchen in the late morning.
The knife clattered on the bench as Zara quickly put the bowl she was holding down. She licked her lips, pretending to focus intently on the cake she’d been icing. ‘So he’s not getting here today?’
Her heart had been racing all morning—her whole system in a state of high anxiety, knowing the axe was about to fall. Knowing she should have said something sooner.
‘He thinks tomorrow or the day after should be fine.’
Another day. She breathed out. She had been granted one more day. She still couldn’t bring herself to say it. Not when she could have a few more hours of bliss.
‘Can you do something for me?’ she asked, her voice catching.
He angled his head. ‘Depends what it is.’
Yeah, there was no automatic reply of ‘anything’—he was still wary. And she didn’t blame him.
‘Try these and tell me which you prefer.’
He looked at the two slices she’d plated up and pushed towards him. ‘They look the same.’
‘Can you just try?’
‘You know you don’t have to go to all this trouble just for me.’ He smiled wolfishly. ‘Though I do appreciate it.’
‘It’s not for your benefit.’ She rolled her eyes, muttering caustically, ‘I’m testing recipes.’
‘Oh, now I see.’ He smiled as he bit into the first piece. ‘So I’m just your guinea pig.’
‘Lab rat, yes.’ She smiled, relaxing as she teased him.
It was fun teasing him.
‘Recipes, huh?’ He pulled her notebook around so he could read it. ‘May I?’
‘You already have.’ She pushed a piece of the second slice towards him.
His brows lifted as he flicked through the pages. ‘You have a lot of notes.’ He glanced up and levelled her with a piercing gaze. ‘Does the world really need another baking blog?’
‘Does the world really need another rich recluse?’ she countered pleasantly.
He laughed. ‘Touché.’
Impatient, she watched as he bit into the second piece. ‘So which d
o you prefer?’
He took his time, watching her as he savoured the slice. ‘They’re both delicious,’ he pronounced, picking up her recipe book to rifle through it in greater depth.
‘That’s not helpful. I actually need a decision.’
‘Can’t do it.’ He glanced over the page and shrugged at her. ‘They’re both so good.’ He put the book to the side and picked up another small piece of cake. ‘What else have you got?’
‘A lot, as it happens.’ She stepped to the pantry and came back with the container of samples she’d been working on.
‘What are you going to do with all of them? If not a baking blog.’ He watched as she selected a couple of biscuits and added them to his plate.
She smiled but shook her head. She wasn’t about to tell him. Not when he made his fortune predicting the success or otherwise of companies. Especially when he did that with incredible accuracy. She didn’t need to be shot down quite so soon.
‘I won’t steal your idea.’
She laughed at the thought of Tomas up to his elbows in flour and white icing. ‘I don’t want to give away the recipes, I want to sell the product myself.’
‘Go into manufacturing?’
‘On an artisan scale, not mass produced.’
‘For farmers’ markets and the like?’
Of course he’d grasp it right away. She nodded. ‘I’ve been selling some of my products at my local one for a while and a couple of the nearby cafés have asked me to supply them.’
‘You’re a baker more than a housekeeper, then?’
‘Yes, but I need to work while I get established.’
‘Of course.’ He picked up another biscuit but studied it rather than eating it. ‘You’ve had training?’
‘I learned a lot from my uncle’s chef and I took a course this past year.’
‘Full time?’
She nodded. ‘I need to do more but at the same time—’
