The Innocent's Surrender (18 page)

He said quietly, ?Shall I call Josefina to help you with your dress??

It was the last thing she?d expected to hear. She said uncertainly, stammering a little, ?But you?d-don?t you want???

His mouth twisted ruefully. ?
Veveos, agapi mou
. Of course. But this time I am taking nothing for granted.?

For a heartbeat, she stared back at him, her eyes widening, as she realised he was telling her that surrender would not be imposed on her.

That, astonishingly, it was hers to give or to withhold.

And knew, without hesitation but also without pride, that her body had already made the choice for her. That, somehow, during the forty-eight hours between that first night in Athens and this moment, the need that he?d aroused had become frank necessity and could no longer be denied. And that she was right to be scared.

She said in a small, husky voice that she barely recognised, ?Then the answer is?no. I?I don?t require her.?

She put her palms flat against his chest, absorbing the strong beat of his heart, feeling it echo in her own pulses, then, without haste, slid her hands upwards until they were resting on his shoulders, holding him, her fingers grasping folds of his shirt to steady herself, because her legs were shaking under her.

He said hoarsely, ?Ah, sweet God,? and pulled her closer, his hand in the small of her back, his kiss deepening into open yearning, as he coaxed her lips apart to admit the silken fire of his tongue into the moist inner sweetness of her mouth.

Natasha yielded, all her initial shyness and reserve overtaken and overwhelmed by her breathless, shaken response. As their mouths clung and burned she found that her small breasts were feeling strangely heavy, the nipples hardening to taut, aching peaks.

Alex?s lips were caressing her forehead, her eyes and her flushed cheeks, brushing away her dishevelled hair so that he could reach the sensitive hollow beneath her ear and caress it with his tongue.

Then he framed her face in his hands and took her mouth again, in one long, sensual, draining kiss, before letting his lips travel slowly down her throat, over the frantic, crazy pulse, to move lingeringly over the slight curves of her bare shoulders.

She felt his hand unfasten the hook at the back of her dress, then tug gently at the zip so that the black taffeta slid down just far enough to release her breasts from their confinement.

Revealing them to the hunger of his eyes.

And their swell to the sensuous plunder of his hands, and mouth.

Eyes closed, Natasha lay back against his supporting arm, her breathing ragged as his fingers stroked and cupped the soft mounds, while his tongue circled and tantalised her engorged nipples, creating a pleasure so acute it was almost pain.

She had never imagined she could feel like this, she thought in some fainting corner of her mind.

Never dreamed how completely her body could melt?dissolve under the force of its own yearning.

Never believed either that sheer longing could make her moan softly and uncontrollably until she was silenced by his kiss.

His mouth still locked to hers, Alex picked her up and carried her into the next room, settling her on the bed in a tumble of black taffeta before coming to lie beside her.

He kissed her again, his tongue moving softly, beguilingly against hers, while his hand pushed back her rustling skirt to find her knee and caress it lightly, before moving upwards, his fingertips tracing patterns on the soft, vulnerable flesh inside her thighs as he enticed them into parting for him.

She was being edged quietly and inexorably towards some brink. She knew it, and feared it, suddenly aware that this time his possession of her would be very different. That he was not asking for the mere capitulation of her body but the total abandonment of her will and senses. And that nothing less would do.

She tried to say ?No? but the only sound that emerged from her throat hung between a gasp and a sigh as his hands brushed aside the lacy barrier of her briefs, to discover, with a soft murmur of satisfaction, the reality of her molten, scalding arousal.

He had spoken of pleasure, and it was here?now?in the lingering, voluptuous movement of his fingers against her secret flesh as they explored her slowly and deeply, gliding, stroking and tantalising, seeking a response she was powerless to deny.

As he sought her tiny hidden bud and awoke it to aching, delicious excitement, Natasha was lost and drowning in a maelstrom of sensation she had never dreamed could exist.

Alex was kissing her breasts again, taking each hardened peak in turn between his lips and suckling them with deliberate eroticism, every flicker of his tongue piercing her with renewed and astonished delight, and creating tiny, tremulous quivers far, far within her.

At the same time his fingers were becoming more adventurous and far more purposeful, questing ever more deeply, and thrusting up into the slick wet heat of her with deliberately sensual intent.

She moaned softly and his lips returned to hers once more, passionately stifling the tiny sound. Then asking. Demanding.

The last vestiges of control were slipping away, her body writhing frantically as she reached for the unknown, conscious of nothing but his mouth possessing hers and the subtle urgency of his fingers forcing her to the outermost margins of extremity.

The soft trembling inside her was changing?growing into a harsh pulsation spiralling upwards. And as her body lifted towards him in an arc of pure abandonment she heard her voice, wrenched and hoarse, gasping, ?Alex?oh, God?
Alex
??

In the next instant she reached the summit, and her entire being splintered into spasm after spasm of raw, uncontrollable pleasure.

Afterwards, when a measure of sanity returned, and she could breathe again, she found she was weeping a little?something else she had not anticipated?and Alex wrapped her closely in his arms, his voice a soothing murmur as she buried her flushed, damp face against his shoulder.

She heard the faint rasp of her zip, and realised he was removing her dress, and that even if the reality of being once again completely naked in his arms was still a difficulty for her she felt far too languid and boneless to protest, as Alex lifted her deftly and expertly from the crumpled taffeta and discarded it.

He moved away slightly and she became aware that he was undressing too, rapidly shedding his clothes and tossing them to the floor, so that when he came back to her there was only the graze of his skin, bare against her own, as he kissed her and began to caress her, his hands moving slowly, almost reverently over her body, seeking every curve, every hollow, each plane and angle as if he was learning her afresh through his fingertips.

As his mouth rediscovered her breasts, Natasha found, to her amazement, that her nipples were already hardening again under the stroke of his tongue. That her entire body, all too soon, was rousing itself from its post-orgasmic languor, her senses stirring, her flesh shivering and burning not just to answer his touch, but to actively crave it.

To crave him, she realised with shock as she felt the jutting hardness of his erection pressing at the apex of her slackened thighs, and her body clenched, fiercely, almost desperately with the need to have him inside her again. To be known completely once more?but, this time, to know in her turn.

She stretched herself against him, beneath him, her hands seeking the essential maleness of him, then, as instinct took over, holding him, cupping him, stroking his urgently responsive shaft with fingers that were shy, even hesitant at first, then increasingly confident, encouraged by his soft groan of pleasure.

?Wait.? He breathed the word unevenly, turning away from her to reach for the drawer in the night table, extracting a small packet, tearing it open and making swift, deft use of its contents.

Then he came back, pulling her close. He kissed her again, his mouth capturing hers with unconcealed yearning, before whispering huskily, ?Take me, my lovely one. Take me now.?

He slid his hands under her pliant thighs, lifting her slightly, and she obeyed, giving a faint moan as she guided him into her moist, hungry depths and felt the vital power of him filling her?making them one with a heart-stopping sense of completion.

As if, she thought wonderingly, her body had been created for this moment alone. And for this man?.

Alex paused, looking down into her widening eyes. He said unsteadily,

?Ah,
Christos
, you feel so sweet, just as I always dreamed?always knew it would be??

He began to move inside her, slowly and gently, as if he was deliberately reining back his own needs in favour of hers. Something else, she thought dazedly, that she had not expected.

And heard him add softly, ?If I hurt you again, then you must tell me.?

?And you?ll do what? Stop?? Her challenge sounded strained and breathless, the words forced from her throat as her body began to melt into its own involuntary reaction to the smooth ebb and flow of his possession. Even as she tried to tell herself that it was impossible. That she couldn?t be feeling like this again?not so soon?

?Yes,? he said hoarsely. ?I will stop. If you wish it. Do you??

For answer, her hands went up to clasp his neck and draw him down to her and her waiting, trembling mouth. At the same time she raised her legs to encircle his hips, mutely inviting his deeper penetration.

His response was instant, almost explosive, as he thrust into her, all restraint gone. As he created a new and driving rhythm, which swept her away with him on a rising tide of heated, passionate delight, forcing her to give as totally, and take as fiercely.

She clung to him, the breath sobbing from her lungs, aware of nothing but the frenzy of sensation building inside her with each hard, compelling stroke from his strong loins.

Once more she could feel the throbbing deep within her as her body gathered itself for that swift, relentless ascent to rapture. And as Alex took her over the edge into the ultimate agony of culmination, and she was gripped by the first shattering convulsions of her climax, she cried out half in exultancy and half in fear, and heard his voice crack on her name as his body in turn shuddered its satiation into hers.

Then silence.

Natasha lay wrapped in Alex?s arms, his head heavy on her breasts and her body still tingling voluptuously from pleasure given and received.

But, in contrast, her mind was reeling, especially as the sudden chill of reality had already begun to invade her euphoria.

Was this what everyone expected and experienced during sex? she wondered numbly. This exquisite fusion of soul and body into the moment when nothing else existed on earth or in heaven but this shared, irresistible, intolerable glory?

Was it what she?d have found with Neil, if she?d given herself to him? she asked herself, and knew that it was not. That it never could have been.

People called it ?the act of love?, she thought. But, where Alex was concerned, that was a complete misnomer, and ?the act of lust? would be far more appropriate.

Because that was all it had been, or ever would be. That was what she must remember at all costs.

It was the performance that had transformed her irrevocably into Alex Mandrakis?s willing mistress. Nothing more. Nothing less. In the process, dragging her down from any moral high ground remaining to her and leaving her with no room for pretence, and nowhere to hide.

All the same, Natasha was shaken by the memory of her own abandon.

Total self-betrayal in one easy lesson, she lashed herself, or, rather, a master class in sensual expertise from someone who had probably forgotten more about pleasing women than most men would ever know.

A man whom she?d allowed to discover, with paramount ease, exactly what it took to turn her into this sobbing, trembling, ecstatic
thing
, as the instrument of his pleasure. And who would expect no less from her in future.

Oh, God, she asked herself. What have I done? I must have gone crazy. But now I have to become sane again. I
have
to. Because I can?t let myself simply become?his creature. Not if I?m going to survive, and walk away when he?s finished with me.

Leaving?and not looking back?has to be my main, my only priority in all this.

She became aware that Alex was stirring?lifting himself away from her in order to lie beside her and look at her, a smile in his dark eyes.

?So,? he whispered, stroking her damp hair back from her face. ?Do you like me any better now,
agapi mou
??

Natasha averted her gaze, conscious that her heartbeat had quickened, and that there was an unaccustomed tremulousness inside her which she knew, somehow, had nothing to do with sex, or the astonishing attunement that their bodies had achieved, but was concerned instead with the tenderness in his eyes and fingertips and the oddly wistful note in his voice. All of which spelled the serious danger she feared so much.

And which needed to be dealt with. Fast?

She stiffened. ?No,? she said thickly. ?Why should I??

His caressing hand stilled. ?I hoped?because of the joy we have just shared,? he said, after a pause.

?Oh, I see,? she said. ?You wish me to congratulate you on your technique, perhaps. Well, I do, naturally.? She added tautly, ?You?re living proof,
kyrie
, that practice makes perfect. In fact, you could probably get a response from a block of marble. Is that what you want to hear??