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She nodded slowly, hating herself for her weakness, yet knowing now that she needed him absolutely. He swore softly under his breath. She was married! He had no right to feel this flood of need for Ava. He shouldn’t have felt it then, and now? He was the worst kind of man.
And yet, she had been his. She had loved him. She had married Angus because he was the safe choice, but her heart had been Cristiano’s.
She wore a simple cotton dress with buttons down the front. He ignored those and lifted the skirt from the hem, so that his fingers could connect with the silky material of her underwear.
Ava startled, but she kept her body locked close to his. And Cristiano, fascinated by how far she would let this go, slid his fingers in the waistband. She felt smooth and warm, just as he’d remembered. His fingers ran across her buttocks, cupping the firm roundness, before coming around the front of her body. He pressed his palm against her womanhood, and was rewarded with her sharp intake of air.
“Please,” she whispered, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, her pelvis tilted forward.
In the back of his mind, Cristiano was shocked. He had expected her to be cold with him. To treat him with anger. To treat him, perhaps, like a stranger. But this? For her to offer herself to him as though no time had passed? As though she was as much his as ever before?
“Please,” she groaned again, with more urgency now, and her hand dropped to his, to press it harder against her core.
His laugh spurred an ache in her gut; it was so like Milly’s. Guilt flushed her body and she wanted to expunge it.
His fingers rose to the dress that was ruched around her waist and he lifted it over her head, discarding it on the floor. She stood before him in black underwear, and though he hated her, he loved her too. The emotion enraged him.
Before he could question the wisdom of what they were doing, he undid the button on his shorts and slid them off. His shirt followed suit. At the sight of him naked, Ava gloried.
A time would undoubtedly come to regret this decision, but it wasn’t in that moment.
He brought his mouth to hers with a searing desperation, and as he plundered her moist warmth with his tongue, he pushed her backwards through the accommodation, towards the bathroom. She danced with him as she always had, their limbs moving in unison, her fingers tangling in his hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her from the ground, holding her petite body against his.
She heard the water before she felt it. Warm from the shower, he placed her in the cubicle and then stepped in behind her. It doused her completely and the small, logical part of her brain wondered how the heck she’d explain the wet hair to Marie when she returned to the house. But the rest of her was focussed on the moment and the man.
His kiss was demanding, and his hands even more so. They ran over her body, as if touching every inch of her to remind himself of how it had been between them. Did he need reminding? He pushed the thought aside and reached for the small bottle of shower gel. He emptied it on her shoulder and then ran his hands across her, lathering as he went.
Ava’s laugh was husky. “What are you doing?”
His eyes glittered dangerously in his handsome face. “What do you think?”
“Well, it feels like you’re giving me a bath.” She thought of Marie and Milly with another stab of guilt.
“Yes,” he agreed, but there was a dangerous undercurrent to his agreement. He washed her as though he could take away the past; as though he could physically remove Angus’s touch from her body. That his beautiful Ava had married another man would have killed him if he’d let it.
He unhooked the shower head and chased the bubbles from her skin before bringing his mouth down to her collarbone. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and at the same time, he brought a hand back to her core. He didn’t stop now but pushed a finger inside of her, smiling with satisfaction as her body bucked hard against him. “This is what you want?” He murmured against her ear, bringing his other hand to her breasts so that he could tease her nipples with his fingers. “You want to feel this?” And he moved another finger inside her moist core, spreading her legs and telling himself that soon he would feel the same pleasure.
God, Ava was shaking. Her body felt weak; her mind couldn’t focus.
“You want to feel this?” He began to move his hand back and forth, in and out, simulating the way his body would pleasure her, in time.
She nodded, delirious with desire.
“Turn around,” he commanded, and she was so fogged by lust that she did as he said, pressing her face against the cold, wet tiles.
“Good,” he murmured, bracing his legs to match her stance, bringing his hands back to her front and teasing her sensitive nerve endings at her entrance. He wanted to make her forget her husband. Her life without him. Everyone and everything she’d done since Cristiano had last possessed her he wanted to make irrelevant.
“You remember I am not easily satisfied,” he growled against her ear. “I intend to make this pleasure last all night, Ava, so do not think you will be running off anytime soon.”
Her cheeks flushed with guilty desire. Guilty, because she knew she would ask Marie to stay with Milly in a heartbeat, to experience what Cristiano was offering her.
He took her silence for compliance, and a deal was brokered between them. It might as well have been a blood pledge, for all he had the power to break it. To hell with her husband. She had been his first.
He had been her first lover.
And he was going to be her lover now. He was going to obliterate anything else from her mind.
He brought his erection towards her, and almost cried out at the remembered desire. Then, in the past, he’d been slow and gentle. She’d been inexperienced and he had adored her. Now?
