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Their first kiss had been hungry—almost clumsy. They’d reached blindly for each other in the hall as some ornament had gone crashing to the ground, and he’d ended up pushing her up against the wall with his hand halfway up her dress until he’d realised that he hadn’t wanted to do it to her like that. Not on her wedding night. Not after last time. He wanted to show her he knew the meaning of the word consideration. He wanted to make love to her slowly—very slowly. And so she had allowed him to lead her to his bedroom where now she stood, looking around her with a slightly nervous expression on her face.
‘I suppose this must be the scene of a thousand seductions?’
‘A rather inflated estimate,’ he responded drily. ‘You don’t want me to lie to you? To say you’re the first woman I’ve brought here?’
She gave a funny little smile. ‘No, of course not.’
‘I haven’t asked you about any of your former lovers, have I?’
‘No, that’s right. You haven’t.’
He wondered what he was trying to do—whether he was trying to sabotage things before they’d even got started. Why the hell hadn’t he just told her that in her silvery gown she eclipsed every other woman he’d ever known? That she was beautiful and soft and completely desirable? With a small growl of anger directed mainly at himself, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again and he heard the gasping little sound she made as she caught hold of his shoulders. He kissed her for a long time, until she started to relax—until she began to press herself against his body and the barrier of their clothes suddenly seemed like something he couldn’t endure for a second longer. He led her over to the bed and sat her down on the edge, before getting down on his knees in front of her.
‘What are you doing?’ she joked weakly as he began to unstrap one of her shoes. ‘You’ve already made the proposal.’
He lifted his gaze; his expression mocking. ‘I thought it was you who did the proposing?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She tipped her head back and expelled a breath as he started rubbing the pad of his thumb over her instep. ‘So I did.’
He removed both shoes and peeled off her silvery wedding dress before laying her back on the bed and kicking off his shoes and socks. He lay down next to her, pushing the hair from her face and brushing his lips over hers, taking his time. ‘You are very beautiful,’ he said.
‘I’m—’
He silenced her with the press of his forefinger over her mouth. ‘The correct response is, thank you, Alek.’
She swallowed. ‘Thank you, Alek.’
‘But I’m afraid of hurting you.’
She reached her hand up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead and suddenly her face looked very tender. He felt his heart clench.
‘Because of the baby?’ she asked softly.
He nodded, still wary around that shining tenderness which instinctively put him on his guard. ‘Because of the baby,’ he repeated.
‘The doctor said it was okay.’ She leant forward and kissed him. ‘But that maybe we should avoid swinging from the chandeliers.’
‘I don’t have any...chandeliers,’ he said indistinctly, but suddenly the flirting word games of foreplay became swamped by a far more primitive need to possess. Refocusing his attention, he began to explore her properly—touching the coolness of her flesh above her stocking tops as she began to make soft little sounds of pleasure. Did she feel his uncharacteristic hesitation as his fingers tiptoed upwards? Could she hear the loud pounding of his heart? Did she know that suddenly—ridiculously—this felt completely new?
‘It’s no different from how it was before,’ she whispered. ‘I’m still me.’
He kissed her again. But it was different. She was like a ship carrying a precious cargo. His baby. He swallowed as his finger trailed over her navel and he could tell she was holding her breath, expelling it only when he eased his hand beneath the elastic of her panties and cupped her where she was warm and wet.
‘Oh,’ she said.
His mouth hovered over hers. ‘Oh,’ he echoed indistinctly as, blindly, he reached for his belt and suddenly she was unbuttoning his shirt, making a low sound of pleasure as she slipped it away from his shoulders. And he stopped thinking. He just gave himself up to every erotic second. There was a snap as he released her bra and her breasts tumbled into his eager hands. He felt the slide of her bare thigh against his as she used her foot to push his trousers down his legs. He could smell the musky aroma of her sex as he peeled off her panties and threw them aside.
