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“BETTER lock the door, Matt.”
The provocative lilt of her voice and the hot simmer in her eyes had Matt spinning to do her bidding. There was no key. No keyhole. His mind blanked in frustration for a moment, then snapped into high gear. Button on the doorknob. He clicked in the lock.
Peta had already unfastened her veil and tossed it on the chaise longue. He did a double take. Chaise longue? Ridiculous piece of furniture! There was only that and a couple of fancy antique chairs. Clothes rack by the window. Peta moving to stand in front of a cheval mirror. Nothing so handy as a bed in sight!
“Undo me?”
Peta slid a suggestive look at him over her shoulder. Matt instantly forgot about a bed. She had her back turned to him, one hand indicating the buttons at the back of her high collar, the other sweeping the train out of his way. He sprang into action, the erotic pleasure of undoing increasingly stimulating as he released buttons, found the head of the zipper and opened up the whole length of her bodice, baring a creamy expanse of skin and an extremely sexy corselet concocted of satin ribbons and lace.
Peta whipped her arms out of her long sleeves while Matt was still examining the exotic piece of lingerie, wondering how it undid. Then the dress dropped and he was staring at bare buttocks; beautifully rounded, firm, naked flesh, interrupted only by lacy suspenders attached to silk stockings.
“You’re not wearing pants!” The words shot off his tongue in sheer shock.
“Disappointed?”
“Hell, no!”
His gaze flew up to assure her he was mightily impressed. She was watching him in the mirror, a bold challenge in her eyes. The realisation thumped through him that ever since she’d walked down the aisle to him she’d been like this under her wedding dress, earlier than that, getting ready for him, making herself easily accessible so that once they were married, she really was his whenever he wanted. And she had to be wanting, too, conscious of her waiting nakedness all these hours....
Matt was too stunned to move. His gaze was drawn to the full reflection of her in the mirror, his mind dazzled by the seductive display of her sexuality. Her beautiful breasts swelled opulently above scalloped cups of peek-through lace, deliberately designed to be transparent over the darker area of her aureoles so her nipples stood out invitingly.
The ribbons on the corselet angled in to emphasise the smallness of her waist, then fanned out to highlight the lush curve of her hips. Lacy suspenders framed the bare apex of her thighs where an arrowhead of tightly curled hair waited for his touch, waited to be parted and spread for him, and he was so rock-hard and ready, his pants could barely hold him.
He dragged his gaze up to hers. “I could not imagine a more desirable woman,” he said, his voice so low and furry he barely recognised it.
Primitive instincts were running riot, the male animal in him stirred to fever-pitch, yet he wanted to prolong this moment of revelation, savouring the incredible sexiness of her and the deliberately blatant gift of it to him. An old saying floated through his mind... Start as you mean to go on. If this was Peta’s intent, he had himself a marriage made in heaven!
“I’ve tried to imagine you, Matt. Will you show me? All of you?”
The husky appeal drove him wild. He’d been fantasising about her for weeks, day and night, and the reality was blowing his mind, but the thought of her fantasising about him was even more explosive. He hurled off his jacket. He almost strangled himself getting his bow tie undone. The studs on his shirt went flying. Shoes, socks...
She swung around to watch him, sliding off her high-heeled shoes, leaving her lovely, long, silk-clad legs slightly apart. Her gaze seemed to gloat over the taut muscles of his shoulders and arms. As he straightened up to unfasten his trousers, her focus moved to the hair on his chest, the dark line of it that ran down to his navel. He was acutely, excruciatingly aware of his fiercely aroused state. At last he was released from all constriction, his pants kicked away, and he stood with his manhood on uninhibited display, his heart pumping blood through him at a chaotic rate.
She stared at him, her breathing quick and shallow. She touched herself, her fingers sliding to her cleft as though wondering how he would feel there, and it was beyond Matt’s capacity to remain apart from her any longer. In sheer blind lust he moved and she met him, sheathing his erection with her hand as she pulled him with her onto the floor, urging their coupling in a frenzy of movement, uncaring of the clothes strewn underneath them, wanting him, demanding him, pushing, thrusting, arching.
Impossible not to follow her insistent direction. Impossible not to plunge straight into her, tunneling fiercely, heat enveloping him, her silky flesh pulsing around him, her thighs gripping his hips, legs locked around his buttocks, driving him deep, a savage cry from her throat stirring the beast in him, throwing him completely out of control.
Her breasts spilled out of their lace cups, lushly inviting. He couldn’t stop to touch them. Her mouth lay open, gasping, emitting sexy sounds of satisfaction, her lips pouting sensually. He couldn’t stop to kiss them. The need to keep pounding into her erased every other fantasy he’d entertained.
This deep inner world she gave him craved all he could give. He felt it in every cell of his body—the mating call—and he responded to it mindlessly, helplessly in thrall to the rhythm of it, loving the wildness of it, exulting in the roll of climactic spasms he felt coming from her. Her thighs were quivering, yet still she held him to her, willing him to take her further.
He exerted himself even more, changing the direction of thrust and contact, making her feel him everywhere, and the throb of her around him excited him beyond bearing. Every muscle in his body screamed for release. He couldn’t hold it any longer. As though she sensed him on the edge, she lifted herself, and he spilled himself into her, a last vital pumping that left him drained, yet so sweetly replete.
Her sigh feathered his face as he slumped forward and M
att knew instinctively it was a sigh of completion. He was too dazed to think. He gathered her to him and rested content, breathing in her scent, basking in her soft warmth, at peace with the marriage they had just consummated.
Peta smiled to herself as she floated back to earth again, deeply gratified that this first mating had been fast and furious and fulfilling the need to forget for a while what she had done today. She would be fine now. She could carry it off...being the wife Matt wanted. There was no reason to feel guilty about not loving him. Great sex covered a lot of shortcomings and they could certainly have that.
Her newly wedded husband was incredibly well endowed. Not even Giorgio, who’d been quite vain about his manhood... she winced at the insidious comparison, pushing it out of her mind. She had to overlay her memory of him with the life she’d have with Matt. It was starting now. No more tears for a lost love. No more nervous apprehensions. No more wondering and worrying.
She might be conceiving a baby right at this minute. And wouldn’t that be marvellous! Maybe a boy...if he inherited his father’s physique he’d be perfect. Peta doubted there could be a more beautiful male body than Matt’s.
The strength and power of him...her inner muscles spasmed again with the pleasure of having felt so much. He could drive her mindless with the sheer explosion of physical sensation and that was good. It concentrated her whole being on him, on the togetherness they could forge. And they would. She would make it happen...the kind of family unit she wanted...her husband, her children.
A fierce wave of possessiveness swept through her. She’d taken this man at his word and his word had proved good. He was good. In every way. She wished she could feel more for him but at least he was hers, every bit of him hers, and she would keep it that way, giving him as much of herself as she could. He’d been fair with her. No cheating. She’d return that fairness in full measure.
“Matt...” She ran her fingernails down his back.
