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Her lips suddenly cold as he broke the kiss, Emily’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto his.
The sensation of drowning flooded her. She could feel the strong thud of his heart hammering against his chest, reverberating through her skin and burrowing through her ribcage to match the unsteady tempo of her own.
Pascha placed his lips on her mouth, just a light pressure, his breath flowing into her pores and filling her mouth with sweet heat and moisture. Every nerve-ending in her body burned, demanding his possession, and when he finally entered her she had no control over the high-pitched moan that flew from her mouth.
Keeping her eyes wide open, she raised a hand to his cheek, savouring the feel of him inside her, filling her completely.
His movements were torturously controlled as he began to move, his kisses intensifying as he deepened the penetration, their bodies fusing into one pulsating, rhythmic mass.
Emily was helpless in his arms, unable to do anything but clasp tight to him and repeat his name over and over in a desperate voice that was not her own, taking every ounce of the pleasure he was bestowing. Pascha began to drive harder and faster into her and still all she could do was cling to him, nothing but willing putty in his hands until, finally, the tension tightening in her core exploded. Waves of pulsating ripples tore through her into a crescendo of colour that blinded her in its brilliance.
Dimly she was aware of his movements becoming more frantic, his groans deepening until he gave one last powerful thrust and crashed on top of her.
For long minutes her head was nothing but mist. Pascha’s breath was hot on her neck. Her fingers idly caressed his scalp and the nape of his neck, her eyes locked on the ceiling.
As the mist began to clear and the sensations absorbing her body started to lessen, the world came back into focus. But it was all wrong. It was nothing she could put her finger on; it was like looking at the world through a different lens, a tiny shift in the spectrum.
But that tiny shift was enough to tell her she would never be the same again.
CHAPTER NINE
THE STORM HAD cleared when Emily awoke, a beam of light pouring through the small porthole.
Pascha’s side of the bed was empty.
She looked at her watch. It was only eight a.m. and she’d only had minimal sleep but it had been enough to see her through what she already knew was going to be a long day.
The bathroom was empty. She dived inside and locked the door. A minute later she stood under the steady stream of the shower. For an age she did nothing other than let the hot water pour over her body. The same body that had woken barely two hours before to make love to him all over again.
She could still feel the press of his lips to hers...
She could still taste him...
A flush swept through her that had nothing to do with the steam of the shower.
Every atom of her body danced with an energy she had never experienced before.
But mixed with the dancing was a deep feeling of dread right in the base of her stomach, a warning that she had made what could be the biggest mistake of her life.
However much she wanted to, she couldn’t hide in the shower for the rest of her life. She had to face him under the light of day sooner or later.
Dressing in a clean black bikini and a sheer viridian-green sarong, she made herself a cup of tea then opened the door of the shelter.
The early heat of the day hit her immediately, warming her skin. She breathed it in, eyeing her surroundings, looking at the destruction from the night before. Dozens of trees had been felled, the clearing in front of the shelter littered with leaves and snapped-off branches. The shelter appeared to have escaped unscathed. She doubted the lodge had got off so lightly.
There was no sign of Pascha.
She sat back on the same bench from the night before; it was bone-dry, as if the rain had never lashed it. In the daylight she saw it had been welded to the concrete beneath it, a sign of Pascha having taken no chances, not even with a bench. The thought brought a wry smile to her lips.
The man thought of everything.
Inhaling deeply, she looked around. All the stars had gone; the sky was bright and cloudless. For the first time she was able to appreciate the view, a vista even more spectacular than the one from her veranda. In the distance were the neighbouring islands cresting out of the calm, sparkling ocean. She hoped they hadn’t suffered too much in the storm.
She sensed rather than heard movement. Holding her breath, she waited as Pascha sat next to her, keeping a respectable distance between them. Her heart hammered painfully beneath her ribs.
‘What’s the damage?’ she asked. At least her vocal cords worked. That was something.
‘I haven’t been to the lodge yet. I was waiting for you to wake.’
