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Yes, there’d been that, too. The whole world had known. His brothers, his cousins, his grandfather, her father. It had hurt, but that was nothing compared to his own mind, which had been furnished with enough photographs of her being felt up in a bar to be able to provide the rest of the details. It was not hard to imagine her being made love to by him, and then all the men the tabloids suggested came after.
“I didn’t cheat on you,” she said, and he shook his head harshly. Why was she lying? What was the point?
“Little liar,” he chided, his voice thick and dismissive. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”
Her eyes narrowed and he stared at her for a moment, the past right there, sharply barbed, refusing to be caught by him.
“No,” she agreed, but there was a hitch in her voice. He didn’t understand, couldn’t, but he was done talking. He shifted his hips, in the back of his mind thinking that he probably should have taken her to bed, rather than making this their first time together. And yet it felt so appropriate – having held himself back for the year of their marriage he was done waiting.
He thrust into her once, quickly, but the resistance he met was impossible not to feel. He froze, disbelief stilling him. His head jerked back, his eyes locked to hers. It couldn’t be… nothing made sense.
“Alessia?” His voice was stern, angry. He shook his head, trying to quell that note from his voice. But she didn’t seem to care.
Defiance lit her eyes. “I told you I never cheated on you.”
He swore under his breath, shaking his head. She began to move, rolling her hips, her ankles digging into his back as she tried to use him to pleasure herself. But he stood stock-still, all the pieces of what he knew about her ricocheting in his brain like little bullets.
“You were a virgin?” he demanded, staring at her with utter disbelief.
“Yes.” She rolled her hips. “And don’t you dare stop what you’re doing.”
He made a guttural noise. She was right. This wasn’t the time to talk. “You are going to explain this to me afterwards,” he muttered, but he began to move, far more slowly, each movement just a gentle motion designed to bring her to the edge of pleasure without causing her pain.
“More, please,” she cried out, her fingernails digging into his back, her body melding to his, so despite his best intentions he found himself driving into her in a way that was designed to splinter both of their self control.
He watched her first orgasm, catching every detail of how she reacted, committing it to memory without meaning to, then he pushed away from the wall, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved towards the generous sofa in the lounge. He lay her down, his body on top of hers, his weight pressing her back, his kiss punishing and demanding, his emotions rioting – anger, frustration, regret. He kissed her hard and she made sweet little pleas into the kiss, begging him all the time for more, so that he did as she was asking, his body rocking hers, the rhythm dictated by the force of their longing, their need for each other something neither could control.
He kissed her with all of himself, and this time, when the world fell away for Alessia, Max let himself explode alongside her, releasing himself with a harsh cry, his body wracked with pleasure, his mind already turning to the hundreds of questions that were buzzing through him.
* * *
It went way beyond anything she’d known to expect. As a medical professional, she understood the biology of sex. She got the theory of it, but the reality of what they’d just done defied every fact she knew about physics, biology, time and place. His body on top of hers was both a delight and a torment, because it was everything she’d fantasised about during their marriage and he’d withheld it from her, that simple affection not to be hers.
She had loved him on their wedding day and she’d hated him by the time they got divorced. He’d hurt her so badly it had been impossible to feel anything but hatred for him. Especially when she’d learned the reason he’d suggested their marriage.
To save her father’s business.
So noble.
So damned wrong.
At twenty Alessia had been bartered into a loveless, sexless marriage. But tonight, she’d got some of her own back. This had been her night, all on her terms, for her pleasure. And now she’d leave.
Her heart gave a funny little squish at the thought of that but Alessia ignored it. She’d known what she was getting into by coming here. The last part of her plan was to leave with the same emotional detachment he’d demonstrated five years earlier.
“Thank you for that,” she said with as much ice in her voice as she could muster.
Massimo pushed up onto his palms, looking down at her as though he’d never seen her before in his life.
“What the actual hell, Alessia?”
She winced, his anger something she hadn’t been prepared for.
She arched a brow, intent on playing it cool.
“A problem, caro?”
“You were a virgin?”
