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.
Chapter Seven
POPPY BLINKED BUThe was still there. Not a mirage. He turned around and Poppy couldn’t stop her eyes widening on the way he filled out the T-shirt and jeans and the wooden spoon in his hand.
He said, ‘I was going to wake you in a bit. Are you hungry?’
Poppy shook her head as if that might help make sense of the scenario she was facing. She saw Caius’s frown and said, ‘No, I mean, yes, I’m hungry, I just…hadn’t expected to see you here. Like this.’
She walked in. Caius turned back to the pan, where something was sizzling and smelled amazing. Poppy’s mouth watered. ‘What is that?’
He turned to face her again. ‘Steak. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?’
‘No.’ Her belly rumbled and she blushed, hoping he hadn’t heard. ‘Where’s Maud? And the chef?’
‘I told Maud she and her staff could take the evening off. I hope you don’t mind?’
She looked around and saw the massive wooden table that the staff used. Big bifold doors opened out onto the chateau walled garden where they grew their own vegetables. It was as idyllic a dinner scene as Poppy could have liked.
She sat on one of the high chairs placed around the massive kitchen island. ‘No. You cook?’
