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Turning, she frowned and said tersely, ‘Be careful! You’ll break something.’
‘Yes. Like my neck,’ he said irritably. ‘Is that why you brought me out here? To finish me off?’
‘Don’t blame me! It was your idea to co—’
Abruptly, she stopped. ‘Oh! I don’t believe it! It’s flowering. It’s actually flowering!’
Massimo leaned round her and stared, bemused, at a small yellowish-green plant. ‘It is?’
She nodded happily. ‘I know it doesn’t look like much but it’s such an incredible plant. It’s so stubborn, so determined to survive. And it’s unique. There’s no other orchid even remotely like it.’ She let out a sigh of contentment. ‘I can’t believe it. I’m just so happy.’
Massimo stared at her in silence. The air around them tasted warm and perfumed, and something in her unguarded enthusiasm touched him. His heart was speeding and he took a step closer, his arm brushing against hers. ‘So... Is that it, then?’ he said hoarsely. He paused, his words jamming in his throat. ‘Do you want to take them and go, or—?’
She looked up at him. His eyes looked almost black in the torchlight, the shadows making his face look younger, more vulnerable. She felt her stomach swoop down, as though she’d stepped off a diving board. Her breath was twisting in her throat. She should run. Or bite him again. Or maybe hit herself with the torch. Anything to stop this soft, gauzy heat creeping over her skin. She needed to focus, to concentrate on the facts. He was the enemy. Worse, he was an enemy who had
managed to tear through all her carefully built up layers of logic and reason as though they were tissue paper.
But then what were they really but memories of her father’s grief? Maybe now was the time to lay those ghosts to rest. After all, Massimo wasn’t the love of her life: and this was only ever going to be sex.
Looking up, she saw the night sky, blue-black like a bruise, and suddenly she wanted to dive into it and lose herself beneath the inky surface. ‘Or what...?’ Her voice was husky, slipping and sliding with fear and longing.
‘Or this...’ he murmured softly, and slowly he lowered his head and kissed her.
It was a different kind of kiss. Softer. Slower. Sweeter. His pulse jumped as her lips parted, and he felt his groin tighten painfully. Groaning, he pulled her closer, his hands curling around her waist so that she was pressed against the full length of his arousal. Tearing his lips from her mouth, he kissed her neck, licking and nipping the petal-soft skin. He could feel her fingers tangling urgently through his hair, feel her breath coming in shuddering gasps as she dragged him closer.
‘Massimo—’
His body stiffened even as his brain seemed to melt. Hearing her say his name was like a spike of adrenaline in his heart. He felt light-headed.
And then, moaning softly, she jerked away from him. ‘Not here—’
They ran, stumbling, through the empty gardens and into the kitchen.
‘Where do you want to—?’ he began, but she stepped towards him, eyes blazing, and he reached out for her and jerked her into his arms, crushed her mouth against his.
She kissed him back, her lips parting as, breathing unsteadily, he nudged his knee between her legs, pushing her back against the table. His hands framing her face, he kissed her again and again with an urgency he’d never felt before. She tasted clean and cool—of springtime and green woods. His lips moved lower, kissing her neck, her throat, licking the salt from her skin. Hunger jack-knifed in his stomach as he heard her breath catch, felt her pulse flutter.
Flora felt her body tense as his hand slid under her T-shirt, her muscles spasming, a tingling heat swamping her. Her breath shuddered in her throat and desire...warm, sweet, liquid...rose up inside her as he moved between her thighs, flattening her body against his.
She shifted against him, frantic to soothe the sting of heat in her pelvis, and then she gasped as he tugged her dress down over her shoulders, down to her waist, and a sudden rush of cool air hit her overheated skin. Gripping the hard muscles of his arms, she shuddered as his fingers slid over her breasts, stroking and caressing her nipples, and then she moaned softly as she felt his lip curl around the rigid tip, grazing the soft dimpled flesh with his teeth.
She could feel the beat of his blood, pulsing over her skin, beating in time to her snatched breaths; her skin was prickling...pinpricks of fire threading out in every direction. Suddenly she wanted more and, body arching, she squirmed against him, frantically yanking at his belt—
Grunting, he reached down and tugged his trousers over his hips, then tore her panties down. His hand slid between her legs and she pressed against it. Heat was building inside her, dissolving and sparking into silver and white and a thousand kinds of gold.
‘Touch me...’
She slid her fingers over the soft skin of his belly and then lower, over the cluster of dark curls, then lower still, until he groaned softly and grasped her head in his hands as a knife-sharp spasm of pleasure shuddered through his body.
As she locked her arms around his neck he shifted her weight and fumbled in his pocket. Reaching down, she took the condom and with hands that shook slightly, stroked it over the hard length of him. Hands reaching under to cup her buttocks, he lifted her in one strong movement, up and onto the table, and then he thrust into her so that she grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging into the smooth flesh.
With each thrust of his hips he drove into her deeper and harder, and she moved against him, rocking her hips faster and faster, until her body shuddered and, closing her eyes, she gripped him tightly as he groaned again and tensed inside her.
For a moment they stayed there, spent and sated, arms around one another, their bodies juddering with the aftershocks of their passion. She felt his lips brush against her hair. His arms tightened around her and as he gently withdrew she buried her face against his shirt.
She didn’t want to look at him—didn’t want to see her mistake in the curl of his lip. Not for a little while anyway. Not while his hands were still caressing her and while she could still feel the warmth of his body and the soft beating of his heart.
He would move soon enough.
