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The words sent a thrill of satisfaction through her. ‘But I’m sure you’ve kept looking.’
He buried his face in her neck. ‘You were never this wild four years ago.’
She was never this desperate. Kelly’s eyes closed. ‘Don’t talk.’
His answer was to weld his mouth to hers again and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe or stand upright. Her hands closed over his shoulders, but what began as a need for support, ended in a caress as her fingers slid over hard, male muscle.
‘Kelly…’
‘Shut up.’ She didn’t want to talk about what they were doing. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to think about it. Her teeth gritted, she ripped his shirt so that she could get to his chest, hair tickling her fingers as she slid her hands over the hard muscle of his chest. His tie still hung between them but she ignored it, too absorbed by his body to bother undressing him.
To have sex with Alekos was to understand why her body had been invented.
His eyelids were lowered, his eyes half-shut as he watched her. It was a look of such raw, sexual challenge that she shivered.
Later, she thought, I’m going to really regret this.
But right now she didn’t care.
He was probably lying about the ring. He was probably going to give it away, but she was going to make sure that he didn’t forget her, Kelly thought as she trailed her mouth over his jaw, feeling the roughness of stubble graze her lips. Other women had sex with men they didn’t know. She’d never done that; for her, sex had begun and ended with this man.
She was achy, needy, and when he backed her to the table and lifted her she just gave a groan of assent, closing her fingers around the glorious velvet length of him.
‘Alekos…’
‘I need to taste you, I need to…’ Muttering s
omething in Greek, he ripped at her shirt, tore at her bra and fastened his mouth over her breast.
Kelly’s head fell back, the heat of his mouth like a brand. She squirmed as hot, liquid pleasure pumped through his veins and he lifted his head and devoured her mouth again, both of them crazily out of control.
‘Now!’ She yanked at his tie, pulling him towards her, and he flattened her to the table and pushed her thighs up. Dragging aside her panties, he entered her in a single, driving thrust that had her crying out his name. It had been so long that it took her a moment to adjust to the size of him. He was hard, full and pulsing hot, and Kelly held herself rigid, afraid to breathe or move. And then his mouth claimed hers again and from then on it was wild, each rhythmic thrust driving away all thoughts of how much she hated him—the fact that this was going to turn out to be a bad decision. He wrapped her thighs around his hips and she dug her nails into his back as she matched his demands with her own.
It was so shockingly good that when his phone buzzed there was no question of him answering it; neither of them were capable of focusing on anything but each other. He had one hand locked in her hair, the other under her bottom, anchoring her in a position designed to give them both maximum pleasure. He thrust hard, fast, his movements so unerringly skilful that she felt her body erupt with sensation. After four years it was never going to last long, and when she felt the first ripples take hold of her she moaned his name. Exquisite pleasure bordered on pain; his fingers tightened in her hair and his mouth locked on hers as he drove them both higher.
They were kissing when the explosion took them. Wave after wave engulfed them, crashing down on them, leaving no room for breath or recovery as they were caught in the web of sensation they’d spun for themselves. They kissed through her choked gasps and through his tortured groan, through the contractions that racked both of them and left them shaken.
His chest was slick against hers, his fingers still digging hard into her bottom as he dragged in air.
Kelly lay stunned, deliciously aware of the weight of him, the feel of him. If she’d been young and naive, she might have thought that such incredible sex could only happen when there was love, but she wasn’t a naive teenager any more.
Slowly recovering her powers of thought, she realised with a flash of horror that the ring was round her neck. Panicking, Kelly pushed him away and fastened the few remaining buttons on her shirt with hands that shook.
Had he noticed?
No; both of them had been too carried away to notice anything but each other. Even if the ring had bashed him in the face, she doubted he would have seen it.
And now she had to get him out of here before she made a fool of herself. ‘I’ll get you the ring,’ she croaked, walking to the door without looking over her shoulder. Her legs were shaking and her body was on fire but she knew she didn’t dare think about what they’d just shared. Not yet. Not now. Later—when she was on her own.
Up in her bedroom, she unfastened the gold chain she wore around her neck and slid the ring into her palm. It glinted and winked at her and she felt a lump build in her throat. It had been next to her skin for four years. It had witnessed her pain and her slow, faltering recovery. Giving it back should feel cathartic—that was the theory.
The practice was something quite different.
Hearing a sound from the hall, Kelly quickly wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and walked back down the stairs.
The front door was wide open.
‘Alekos?’ Puzzled, she glanced from the open door to the kitchen and then heard the unmistakeable, throaty growl of an impossibly powerful engine.
