MELANIE MILBURNE – Marrying the Italian: The Marcolini Blackmail Marriage / The Valtieri Marriage Deal / The Italian Doctor's Bride (страница 19)

He shrugged his shirt off and stood with his thighs slightly apart as she undid his belt, pulling it through the loops until it joined her dress on the floor.

She heard him draw in a breath as her fingers pulled down his zipper, and then she felt him jerk in awareness when she peeled back his underwear to touch him skin on skin.

He was like satin-covered steel under her fingertips, and so aroused he was seeping with moisture. She blotted it with her fingertip and then, lifting her eyes to his, brought her finger up to her mouth and sucked on it.

‘Dio. you are driving me crazy,’ he growled, as he heeled himself out of his shoes, his trousers and underwear landing in the same heap as his belt and her dress.

Claire drew in an uneven breath as he walked her backwards towards the bed, his hands on her hips, the heated trajectory of his body setting her alight all over again. She could smell his arousal, the hint of salt and musk that was as intoxicating as the notes of citrus she could pick up from his aftershave.

‘Tell me to stop, Claire, otherwise I will not be able to,’ he groaned as his mouth brushed against hers.

She linked her arms around his neck, pushing her pelvis against his. ‘I don’t want you to stop,’ she said in a breathless whisper. ‘It’s been such a long time…’

‘You are right about that,’ he said as he eased her down on the bed, his eyes devouring her all over again before he joined her. ‘It has been far, far too long.’

Claire shivered as his long, strong legs brushed against her smooth ones. The arrant maleness of him had always made her heart race with excitement. The hardness of his body against her dewy softness made her feel light-headed with anticipation. She arched her spine in invitation, aching for him to pin her body with his, to drive her towards the paradise she craved.

‘Not so fast, cara,’ he said, stroking his hands over her belly, thrillingly close to where she pulsed for him. ‘You know how it was between us before. It was always much more intense when we took our time.’

Claire sucked in a breath as he bent his head to her breasts, his mouth and tongue inciting her passion to an almost unbearable level. The hot trail of his kisses continued down her sternum to the tiny dish of her belly button, and then over the faint stretchmarks on both of her hips, before moving to the throbbing core of her body. Her breath skidded to a halt in her chest as his fingers gently separated her, the tender, honeyed flesh opening to his stroking touch. He set a slow but tantalising rhythm, each movement bringing her closer and closer to the release she could feel building and building inside her. Then she was there: her back lifting off the bed, her senses soaring out of control, as wave after wave of ecstasy smashed over her, rolling her, tossing and tumbling her, until she felt totally boneless, limp with satiation.

Claire reached for him, her fingers circling his hardness before she slithered down to brush her mouth against him. She felt a shudder go through him when she traced him with the point of her tongue. He was still in control—but only just. His breathing was choppy and uneven, each and every one of his muscles taut with tension as she drew him into her mouth, tasting him, tantalising him with the butterfly caress of her tongue.

‘No,’ Antonio growled suddenly, and pulled her away. ‘I want to come inside you. I have waited so long for this.’

Claire felt her insides tremble with excitement as his body settled over her, one of his thighs nudging hers apart, his weight propped up on his elbows as he drove into her with a deep groan of satisfaction. She felt the skin of his back and shoulders lift in a shiver as her body grabbed at him hungrily, the rocking motion he began setting her alight all over again. Electrifying sensations shot through her with each stroke and smooth glide of his body in hers. She felt the tremors begin deep inside her, the ripples of reaction rolling through her as he increased his pace, each deep thrust taking her higher and higher. She felt as if her body imploded, so forceful was the release he evoked. It rocketed through her like a torpedo, making every nerve hum and sing with sensation.

Antonio’s breathing quickened, his thrusts now so deep and so purposeful Claire could feel the exact moment his control finally slipped. With a deep groan he burst inside her, his body shuddering against hers as pleasure coursed through him, her tight body milking him until he collapsed in satisfaction above her.

She kept stroking his back, her fingers dancing over his muscled form, hoping the magical spell of sensuality would not be broken too quickly.

Antonio was right: this was the part they had always got right. It was the other details of their relationship they had tripped over: the involvement of relatives, the demands of his career and the loss of her independence, not to mention the vicissitudes of life, which in their case had been particularly cruel.

Antonio shifted his weight to look down at her. ‘It has not changed, has it, cara?’ he said, brushing a damp curl back from her forehead. ‘Although perhaps I am wrong about that; it has changed—if anything it has got better.’

Claire trembled under his touch, her body acutely aware of his, still lying encased moistly in hers. ‘What if it’s not enough, Antonio? Physical attraction will eventually burn itself out. Then what will be left?’

His eyes were dark as pitch as they held hers. ‘It has not burned out yet, in spite of our five-year hiatus. As soon as I saw you again I realised it. I wanted you back in my bed no matter what it took to get you there.’

‘This can’t go anywhere,’ she said, dropping her gaze from his in case he saw too much of what she was feeling. She was like a toy he had decided to play with for a limited time. She had to keep reminding herself this was not for ever. He was only here for three months.

‘It can go where we want it to,’ he said. ‘For as long as we want it to.’

Claire felt a prickle of alarm run over her bare flesh as she brought her gaze back to his. ‘I’m not sure what you’re saying,’ she said, flicking her tongue out over her lips. ‘This is temporary…isn’t it?’

His gaze went to her mouth, halted, and then lifted back to hers. ‘Are you on the pill?’ he asked.

Something dark and fast scuttled inside Claire’s chest, making her feel breathless, as if the faceless creature of fear had buried itself in the chambers of her heart. ‘Um…no…’ she said, unable to hold his gaze.

He nudged her chin up with the point of his finger, his dark eyes drilling into hers. ‘No?’

She rolled her lips together, trying to think where she was in her cycle. ‘I’m not on it at the moment…’ she said, grimacing slightly.

He kept his gaze steady on hers for several heart-chugging seconds. ‘Do you think you are in a safe period?’ he asked with an unreadable expression.

‘Yes,’ she said, even though she was not quite sure. It would be disastrous if she was to fall pregnant by him, setting off another heartbreaking cycle of waiting and hoping, and yet…

Oh, God, the thought of another chance at being a mother was so very tempting. Maybe this time it wouldn’t end in tragedy, in spite of the information she had sought on the internet. She had learned that after a previous incident of placental abruption the chances of a second occurring was between ten and seventeen percent. The statistics stated that whereas one out of one hundred and fifty deliveries cited a case of placental separation, the severe form, where foetal death occurred, was only one in five hundred.

It was all a matter of chance…

‘Are you sure?’ Antonio asked, his gaze now darkened with intensity.

She nodded and eased herself away from him, hugging her knees to her chest to affect some measure of decency. ‘But even if we had used a condom there’s no guarantee it would have prevented a pregnancy,’ she said. ‘That’s how it happened the last time, if you remember?’

‘Yes, but only because you had not been taking the pill long enough for it to be effective,’ he said.

Claire felt resentment rise up in her like a viper wanting to strike at its tormentor. ‘So you’re blaming me for what happened in the past, is that it? It was my fault for being so naïve in thinking I was covered when I wasn’t? We would not have had to go through any of what we went through if I had taken the time to read the leaflet in the box? Is that what you are saying?’

A deep crevasse appeared between his brows. ‘I did not say that, Claire. An unplanned pregnancy can happen to anyone.’

She still felt herself bristling in spite of his response. ‘Then what exactly are you saying?’

It seemed a long time before he answered. ‘This is probably not the right time to bring up the subject of babies.’

Claire felt the faint hope she had secretly harboured in her chest deflate at his words. He was after a good time, not a long time. He was at a loose end in a foreign country. No wonder he had looked her up—hooked up with her in a blackmail bargain that would see him as the only winner at the end. He wanted no ties, no lasting consequences of their brief encounter. Just like last time he wanted a short, hot, full-on affair to compensate for the punishing hours he worked.