AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I want you,” she said simply, then frowned, because it wasn’t simple at all. “And if I left here without telling you that, I know I’d regret it.”
He groaned, an ache developing deep in his gut. Hell, he wanted her too. Wanting her had never been the problem, but acting on it? How could he?
“If you want me to leave now, I will. But if you feel the same as I do, then share tonight with me. Just tonight.”
It was an offer too good to refuse. He heard her words and even though he wanted to shut the door on this complication, he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. There was a greater power at work here, something more important than either of them.
He swore under his breath then stepped forward, his naked body brushing hers, his mouth moving even before his brain had caught up, kissing her, tasting her, aching for her.
She moaned into his mouth and he tasted salt, tears, in their kiss, but he didn’t stop. He understood. This was complicated, and in some ways, it was wrong—did she feel the betrayal of Konstantinos in her request?
He pushed all thoughts of that from his mind and existed purely in the here and now, kissing her with all the desperation of his soul, lifting her around the waist, holding her body to his and carrying her through his room, to the bed in its center. He exalted in the perfection of that moment, her skin against his, the taste of her flesh as he rolled his tongue over her shoulder, the sweet little trembles against his mouth, his body, his hands, as he laid her down on the bed and traced his fingertips all over her, inch by inch, making her his, just once.
He tasted her breasts now as he’d wanted to do for so long, his tongue adoring them, teasing them, feeling her flinch with every bite, every kiss, until he moved lower, his mouth on her belly, her hips, her thighs, and finally the sweetness of her sex, worshipping her there, flicking her with his tongue until she exploded against him and he dug his fingers into her hips, needing to hold onto her or slip off the edge of the world.
He wanted to torment her, to mark her in so many ways, to make her beg for him, to make her long for him in a way she’d never forget, never be able to replace, but more than that, he wanted her, with a strength that made impatience impossible. Stretching, he reached for a condom, pushing it into place without removing himself from her for long enough to allow reality to intercede, then bringing his body over hers.
“Every time you are with another man, you are going to think of me,” he said darkly, his need to make her understand this point surprising him.
She bit down on her lip, her eyes showing an emotion he didn’t understand, but he kissed her, tasting her surrender, her need, parting her thighs with his knee and pushing into her swiftly, angrily, the possession so powerful that at first, he didn’t realise how tight she was, nor that there was a barrier, holding him back, that her body had stilled, her mouth no longer returning his kiss. He pushed up onto one elbow, his brain in shards, nothing making sense. Unmistakably, though, her tightness was a sign—but he couldn’t believe it.
“Pheobe,” her name was a growled plea. She was a virgin?
He stared at her, needing an explanation, to understand, but she shook her head, pressing a hand to his chest. “Don’t stop,” she said softly. “I wanted this.”
He couldn’t understand, but she lifted her hips, drawing him deeper, and when he moved, slowly now, pleasure twisted her face and her nails dug into his shoulder, so his grip on reality and control slid further away, instincts taking over, his body moving to the beat of its own drum, until he had stirred them both to a peak of pleasure, an inevitable explosion that tore through the cabin, splitting them both apart.
Her cries filled the air, the intensity of her orgasm showing itself in the way her muscles squeezed him, so hard and tight, and her nails dragged down his back, and his own explosion seemed to shift all the pieces of his soul into a new, unrecognizable order. He lay on top of her, shattered and confused, for several long moments before flipping onto his back and staring at the ceiling, his breath tortured, his head spinning.
Beside him, Phoebe moved, pushing to standing so he sat up, staring at her, watching as she moved towards the door. Hell, no. She wasn’t going to walk away without answering some questions.
“Phoebe, stop.”
She paused in the doorframe, huge emotions crowding out everything else. She’d thought having sex would close the book on her feelings for him, but when they’d come together, love had burst through her, awakening so many bits of her, pieces she’d presumed had been too damaged by the life she’d led for salvage.
“This was a mistake.”
Behind her, Anastasios stilled, his body taut for a moment before he turned away, stalking to the bathroom and disposing of the condom. When he returned, she was gone, back in her own room.
He walked in without knocking, but he didn’t speak. He simply stared at her, trying to understand, to make sense of how this woman who’d allegedly used his father could possibly be a virgin.
She was still naked and given that he wore a pair of shorts, she felt at a distinct disadvantage. She reached for an oversized shirt and pulled it on.
“I don’t understand.” His accent was thick, his confusion was obvious.
“You haven’t understood a thing about me. Not from the first moment we met.”
His brows knit together, the symmetrical features of his face highlighted by the shadows of the early morning light. “So this was what? A way to prove a point?”
She startled.
“Did you think you could sleep with me as evidence that you hadn’t slept with my father?”
She pressed her hand to her lips to quell her emotions, to hold them in rather than letting them burst out. “Even now, you see the worst in me,” she whispered unevenly, tears on her lashes. “Even now you think everything is calculated and premeditated.”
He compressed his lips until they were rimmed white. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?” She asked, softly, wrapping her arms around her torso.
