Читать книгу: «A Shocking Proposal In Sicily», страница 3

CHAPTER TWO

RAFE WATCHED ANA’S eyes darken. Desire thundered through him. Harder. Faster. Like the call of a war drum of old. He was losing the mask of the composed businessman who’d a short while ago been drinking whisky alone. Hell, he was losing himself. And he hadn’t even kissed her.

Yet.

With this woman’s body pressed so alluringly against his, he knew he was in danger of completely losing his grasp on reality. Losing everything. His whole body ached for her and the satisfaction he knew only she could give. He’d never been so hard. So ready.

She moved closer, her smoky eyes filling with need, exploding with desire. Shimmying her hips provocatively, pressing against his erection. And he thought he’d never been so hard.

He tightened his hold on her, keeping her delicious body against him. ‘See what you do to me?’ He barely recognised the coarse rasp of his voice.

She smiled. Moved her hips again, forcing him to bite down hard on the growl of desire threatening to rip from him.

‘I feel,’ she purred. Damn, but she was a merciless tease. ‘But I don’t see.’

He couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to taste her. Had to feel her lips beneath his. Feel the passion that burnt in her eyes, taste it on her tongue as it danced with his.

But if he gave into that need here?

It wasn’t worth imagining. Or was it? Erotic images swept through his mind, faster than lightning. Their bodies entwined in the erotic dance of desire.

Rafe inhaled deeply as she pressed her body even harder against his. Making those images so hot they became X-rated.

‘I think we should retire to my suite.’ His voice was hoarse and ragged with desire. He hadn’t known anything like it. Ever. It was like a wild fire bearing down on him at an alarming pace, offering no escape. Not that he wanted any escape.

There was a slight pause as she looked up at him. A hint of uncertainty and hesitation. The fire cooled briefly, stilled, as if waiting to see which way the wind would take it. As he watched her, she looked innocent. Vulnerable. Then it was gone. The sex siren, the seductress, was back in play and the fire raged on relentlessly.

‘And I was enjoying this moment.’ She raised her brows, looking up at him, bringing her lips tantalisingly close to his. ‘I was enjoying my power over you.’

‘If you carry on with this power game, I am going to have to kiss you. Right here. Right now.’ His voice was more of a feral growl, the like of which he’d never heard before. How could one woman, a woman he’d only just met, have such an effect on him?

‘Then kiss me. Right here and right now.’ Her bold and brazen reply excited him further. There would be no backing out now. This would be taken to the inevitable conclusion—in the privacy of his suite.

She moved closer still, her breath feathering his lips. ‘Kiss me.’

Hell, he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to taste her. She moved her lips closer, a spark of sexy mischief in her eyes. He placed his champagne glass on the bar, not taking his eyes from hers, and spread his palm over her shoulder blades, at the same time crushing her lips beneath his.

She gasped into his mouth, her eyes wide, and again that aura of innocence briefly shone through. A woman playing with fire. The fire of desire. Desire he could no longer control. She closed her eyes, long lashes sweeping down over her cheeks as she began to kiss him back. As hard and demanding as his kiss, sweeping away any doubts.

This woman was far from innocent. This was a woman in control of her sexuality. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And right now he was in no doubt. She wanted him.

Her tongue entwined with his and her arms wound round his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair, long nails scratching his scalp. He delved his tongue deeper into her mouth, tasting champagne. Tasting her.

He had to get them out of here. He was in danger of ripping her sexy tight blouse and skirt from her body right here in the bar.

He lifted his lips away from hers reluctantly, dragging in a deep breath of sanity.

‘Your suite,’ she whispered, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Already she looked deliciously tousled.

Lust pounded through him. He barely had any control left. Virtually no restraint. His need for this woman, this moment, was so intense. He wanted to revel in her power. Be tamed by her. It either stopped here and now or...

‘This is what you want?’ He tried to steady his voice, needing to calm the heated desire thundering through him like a sudden eruption from Mount Etna. Despite this desire, despite the way her body begged him for more than just a kiss, he needed to hear her say it.

Did he really have to ask?

‘It is,’ Kaliana said softly, her voice husky, her breathing rapid and uneven. He was giving her the chance to back out, proving he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Giving her the power. Power which made her feel alive.

She brushed her lips over his lightly, wanting to kiss away the control he’d suddenly found. She wanted him at her mercy. Her at his. She breathed against his lips, driven by a need too powerful to resist. ‘It is. Take me to your suite.’

He held her gaze, looking deep into her eyes, as if satisfying himself she spoke the truth and for a moment she wondered if he knew. If he’d guessed she was a virgin. As if he’d guessed her act of bold bravado was exactly that. Was this man of undeniable experience about to turn her down? Leaving her aching for him, for satisfaction? Leaving her not knowing what it would be like to be sexually fulfilled?

She wanted this night of pleasure, this night of unknown desires. She needed it. To prove she was alive. Locked within her was the woman Alif had gently coaxed into the first flush of womanhood with his love.

She held her breath.

Pain rushed through her at the thought of Alif and the love they’d shared. The passion they should have known together. Was it wrong she felt such desire with another man?

She looked up at Rafe, felt the pull of attraction, the spark of desire, the heat of passion. It wasn’t wrong. Something this powerful couldn’t be. Unexpected, but not wrong.

‘I want you,’ she whispered, drawing again on the elation of being free to indulge in this desire. Free to be a woman who knew what she wanted and took it.

And she wanted this night and this man. Nobody except Rafe could stop it now. Tonight, she would finally bloom into the woman she could be.

‘And I want you.’ His accent suddenly deepened, the intensity in those dark eyes mirroring every need and emotion inside her.

‘I want you to make love to me.’ Her breath was ragged, her words slipping out, firm and decisive. Elation at her freedom, her power of abandonment to be exactly what she wanted, rose ever higher. She wanted to feel his kisses all over her body. His strong hands caressing her, pleasuring her in ways she could only imagine. For too long she’d locked herself behind a barrier of grief, but she couldn’t do it any more. Not if she had to give up on everything she’d ever dared to hope for and sacrifice her secret dreams of one day finding the kind of love she’d shared with Alif. If love a second time even existed. ‘I want you to make love to me. Tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ The hoarseness of his voice left her in no doubt he was fighting a losing battle as much as she was.

‘Tonight,’ she teased. ‘All night.’

He inhaled deeply, his eyes piercing into hers. Taking her hand, he silently led her through the serene calmness of the hotel bar, some guests casting them curious but knowing glances.

Together they stepped into the lift. The air crackled with tension. Neither moved. Towards each other or away. The only contact was her hand in his. Silence enveloped them as the lift moved swiftly upwards. She didn’t dare look at him. Something wild was about to explode between them and if they even so much as looked at one another it would happen before they reached the privacy of his suite.

She drew in a deep breath, his scent stirring her desire ever higher, and she willed the lift to stop. Willed the doors to open. Beside her, he was rigid, his body motionless with control as he stared straight ahead. She didn’t need to look at him to know it. She sensed it. Sensed the power of his control.

At last the lift doors swished almost silently open, directly into his suite, so vast she was sure it must occupy the entire floor. So, he was immensely wealthy. Not the waiter she’d mistaken him to be.

She smiled at the memory of his reaction to her question as she walked into the suite, past the sprawling pale grey sofa, covered with cushions. Past the vast desk where papers and a closed laptop confirmed he was a businessman. Towards the wall of windows which looked out over London, now twinkling with many lights, competing with the moon.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Here, tonight, she could be a different woman than the one who’d handed over her future to the family duty she’d always secretly hoped to be free of, wishing instead for love and happiness. Here, tonight, none of that mattered.

Awareness prickled over her skin as he came to stand behind her, his hands gently holding her upper arms, subtly caressing them, pulling her slowly closer to him.

She looked at the window, their reflection, just as erotic as it had been in the bar. She watched him lower his head to kiss her neck, anticipating his lips on her skin seconds before it happened. She closed her eyes to the pleasure, her pulse racing wildly.

She sighed softly as his lips trailed over her skin, burning it. Setting her alight. But it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough.

Kaliana angled her head, inviting more, needing more. She leant her head back against him as he drew her closer. Rafe’s fingertips joined the torture his lips were inflicting on her skin. She shuddered with pleasure as the warmth of his fingers traced downwards, inside her blouse. Inside her bra.

She pressed her eyes tightly shut, desire wildly uncoiling deep inside her. Deep in the hidden femininity she’d locked away after losing Alif.

Rafe murmured against her neck, his fingers grazing over her increasingly hard nipples. It was exquisite. She trembled with need as he continued his torture, heated desire burning between her legs. She sighed softly as she turned her head to face him. He moved closer, the torture on her nipple continuing as he slicked his tongue over her lips. He moved slowly back and she licked her lips, tasting champagne and whisky along with something stronger. Desire.

He slid his hand away from her breast, trailing a blaze of heat up her neck. Every part of her was on high alert. Every part of her wanted him. Needed him.

She turned in his arms, clutched at his shirt and pulled, wanting to feel his body, needing to see it. Buttons popped to the floor as she dragged the shirt out from his black trousers, pushing it aside, pressing her lips to his bare chest. Tasting him. Inhaling his powerful masculinity.

She had no idea where the wanton woman she’d become had come from, but he tasted so good. His skin felt delicious on her tongue. He held the tops of her arms tightly as he spoke in another language and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was Italian. Then the carnal heat of desire took over, consuming her as it exploded into life.

‘See what you do to me.’ He spoke English with a harsh whisper. Had she imagined his words in Italian?

‘No,’ she said, spreading her palms on his chest. Pushing them through the silky soft hair that covered his well-defined chest muscles, smiling at the game she was playing once more with him. ‘No, I don’t see. Not at all.’

He laughed, a soft sexy laugh, unwinding the coil of desire inside her even more. ‘Maybe I should remove my clothes?’

She smiled, heat and power rampaging through her, making her bolder and braver than ever. There was no way she could stop now. ‘Maybe you should.’

‘In that case, my sweet, sexy nymph...’ He took his arms from around her, pulling off his shirt and stepping back a pace. He tossed the ruined shirt aside, his eyes never leaving hers, the hungry sparks of passion in them making her breathless. She looked at his chest, his shoulders, his strong arms, her attention lingering on a tattoo on his upper right arm.

The Italian words, Vivi con passione, inked on his skin fired through her, making this moment more intense. Live with passion—that was exactly what she intended to do. Tonight. With this man.

‘I still don’t see,’ she teased him further, determined not to be side-tracked by the bold dark words inked against his beautiful olive skin.

With a wicked smile he slowly, deliberately and very tantalisingly removed the remainder of his clothes. His body toned and perfect. His erection large and proud. ‘Now do you see?’

She should be shocked, embarrassed even. But she wasn’t. How could she be when this was precisely what she wanted? To see him in all his masculine glory. To revel in the power she had over his body—over him.

She didn’t answer his question but began to roughly pull at her blouse, desperate to take off every last barrier between them. To be as free as he was. Liberated from her lifelong prison as Princess of the ancient kingdom of Ardu Safra. Even if it was only for one night.

‘Allow me, cara.’ He moved back towards her, reaching out with steady hands to unfasten her blouse, button by button. Then he pushed the silk off her shoulders and it slithered to the floor as he unfastened the belt of her skirt before reaching behind her to the zip fastening. The action brought him close, so very close. She was painfully aware of his naked, aroused body, but he didn’t touch her—only her clothes.

He pulled the zip of the skirt lower until the pale gold fabric slithered down over her hips, watching her as she stepped out of it and towards him. His gaze raked down over her skimpy bra and panties, down her legs to her gold heels. She wanted to be as naked as him. Be his equal.

Without taking her eyes from him she slipped off first one sandal, kicking it aside. Then the other. The thud it made on the floor almost as loud as her pounding heart. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra, acutely aware of his eyes devouring her, waiting. She let the bra fall to the floor.

She lowered her hands to her panties, her gaze still fixed on his, unable to believe the wild desire she saw burning in them.

‘No,’ he said, his hand covering hers. He was so close she could feel the heat coming off him. Feel the need in his body for her.

‘No?’ she questioned.

‘No.’ Rafe looked into Ana’s eyes, the thud of desire so loud in his veins, surely the whole of London must hear it. ‘Not yet.’

She moved closer, reaching up, pressing her lips against his, her breasts brushing his chest. His control snapped and in one swift move he wrapped her in his embrace, claiming her lips in a hungry kiss. Her hungry need matching his. Demand for demand. Passion for passion. Their breathing hard and loud as desire threatened to totally consume them.

He needed to slow things down. Needed to take this night of unexpected pleasure more slowly. It would be the last he ever had because, even though his bride would be one brokered in a boardroom, he would remain faithful. He would never know a night like this again. Never know this carnal need for a woman after he was married.

He pushed those dark thoughts from his mind. They were for tomorrow. This almost naked, sexy vision of desire was tonight.

Her hand slid down his chest as she moved her body slightly away from his. Instinctively he tensed as her touch slid over his abs, then lower. Her palm pressed against him, then her fingers wrapped around him, exploring him.

The thought excited him more. Making him harder.

‘So beautiful,’ she whispered, looking down, as if she’d never seen a naked man before. She moved her hand upwards, then down and he bit back a groan of passionate despair. He had to stop her. Had to regain control. He wanted to pleasure her before she literally brought him to his knees at the altar of desire.

‘Now you have seen—and felt,’ he said, taking her hand in his. ‘It’s my turn.’

Her eyes widened a little and a faint blush spread over her cheeks, but desire pushed him on and, lowering his head, he took one hardened nipple in his mouth.

She gasped, her fingers delving into his hair as he slicked his tongue around her nipple, enjoying the shudder of pleasure which ran over her again and again. Then he stood up, pressing himself to her, feeling the heat of her body, her naked pert breasts against his chest. He kissed her—until she clung to him, her body begging his for release.

The loss of control threatened him again and he lowered his head, smiling as her fingers pushed into his hair, gently guiding him to where she wanted to be kissed next. He obliged, lavishing the same attention on her other breast.

‘Don’t stop,’ she gasped, and satisfaction rushed through him. The little spitfire who’d walked into the bar demanding champagne had been tamed by desire. But he wasn’t done with her yet. Nowhere near it. He wanted her to cry out with passion.

He murmured soft words of Italian as he kissed down her stomach, pressing his lips against the lacy cream panties, feeling her body arch towards him.

In one effortless move he pulled the lace down to her ankles, returning to the intimate dark hair. Holding her buttocks, he knelt before her, kissing into the silky soft hair. She placed her hands on his head, parting her legs slightly. He looked up at her and moved one hand to caress the soft skin inside her thigh, before trailing his finger intimately over her.

He stifled a groan of pleasure as he felt her eagerness, lust firing through him. Lust he had to ignore. He wanted to pleasure her, make this moment last.

‘I never knew,’ she gasped as he leaned forward and tasted her.

Never knew what? His question came and went, obliterated by a need to really taste her. To totally and completely possess her.

‘Oh,’ she cried out as waves of ecstasy racked her body, leaving her gasping, clinging to him as he continued his torment.

Instead of calming his need, giving him more control, hearing her cries of pleasure with such abandon only increased it. He wanted to be inside her. Deep inside her.

Kaliana shuddered as the intense pleasure of her first orgasm subsided. She’d been so lost in it, so swept away in delirium that only now was she aware he’d stood up, taken her hand and was drawing her towards the sofa.

He sat down, and she watched in fascination as he rolled on the condom he must have had in readiness for this moment.

The moment she gave herself to him.

Should she tell him she’d never had sex before? That he was the first man who had brought her to such a shuddering orgasm? Would he even know after what he’d just done to her?

He leant forward, taking her hand, drawing her closer. ‘Come here.’

Before she had time to wonder where she should go, how she should sit with him, he pulled her onto his lap, her legs astride his. She was completely out of her depth, but it was wild and reckless and right now exactly what she needed. What she wanted.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he said softly, his eyes swirling with desire as his hand slid between her legs, touching her where, after her orgasm, she felt sensitive, so in need of more. He leant forward, taking her nipple in his mouth while his fingers slid into her.

It was too much. Too nice. Surely, he couldn’t take her to that dizzy place of oblivion again? So soon?

She lifted herself up, his torturous touch stopping as his hands moved to grasp her buttocks, his mouth leaving her nipple as he looked up at her.

‘Cara mia.’ He spoke quietly, his tone firm and commanding, the Italian words so enticing, so sexy. Confidence filled her, pushing her on in her quest to find herself, to discover just who she really was.

She dragged in a shuddering breath as his expert touch took her higher. It was so much more than she’d ever anticipated. So powerful. So... Words failed her. She was close to the edge again. Close to being lost in pleasure. She closed her eyes, her head falling forwards, her hair cascading around her, shielding her from the scrutiny of those dark eyes as she enjoyed the moment.

‘Look at me, cara,’ he demanded, more firmly this time.

Fighting the waves of passion and lifting her head, she looked at him. His eyes were dark and glittering like diamonds. Had he guessed she was a virgin? Did the ease with which he could push her to another orgasm give away her inexperience? Her innocence?

‘I want to see you.’ His voice was husky and incredibly sexy. ‘I want to watch your face as you take me inside you.’

She drew in a breath at his boldness, shocked by how wild and wanton it made her. She wanted to feel him inside her. Deep inside her. It all seemed so right. How could she not want this man to possess her in the most intimate way?

Her gaze locked with his. She lifted her hips, lifted herself over him, hoping her boldness, her attempt to control, to dominate, would hide the nerves she couldn’t help but feel. No matter how much she wanted this.

His fingers bit into her buttocks as he encouraged her to move lower. The tip of his heated hardness forced instinct to take over and she moved slowly. With her arms around him, she moved her body up then lowered herself back to him, controlling the moment. Teasing him. Tormenting herself. Each movement making her bolder.

He gripped her buttocks tighter as she lowered herself again, a feral growl coming from him as he lifted himself up, sliding into her in one hard move. She cried out as a burning pain snatched her from the moment. He stilled. Deep inside her, he didn’t move. Those dark eyes were full of questions. Full of doubt.

She didn’t want that. Not now. Not until they’d both lost themselves in the oblivion of passion. She wanted that abandonment. Needed it. She wanted that ultimate climax to this moment. Questions could wait. Everything could wait.

She forced herself to move, lifting herself up, then lowering herself again, stoking the desire back up. He watched her intently as she controlled the moment. Controlled him.

His desire returned instantly. She could see it in his eyes. Feel it inside her as she continued to move up and down. The sensation of having him inside her was so much more intense than she’d anticipated. She continued to move until he swore savagely as he lost control, as he gave into what her body wanted and began moving with her. Each movement faster and more furious than the last. Each movement pushing her ever closer to the edge.

‘Mia bella!’ he cried out, his release coming fast, dragging her with him into oblivion.

Her body shook with pleasure as she found her release, her total fulfilment. Her moment of complete abandon. Waves of ecstasy held her in their grip, tossing her in the sea of passion until she was sure she would drown.

Rafe’s breathing calmed, his racing heart eased. Ana’s body limply clung to his and he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

He’d taken her virginity. A gift so precious it should never have been his to take. He didn’t deserve that. He couldn’t give a woman like this any more than tonight, even if he wanted to. He looked at her—head bent, hair cascading around her face, hiding her from him, from his scrutiny. His questions. Those moments of hesitation in the bar, that aura of innocence, had been real. That woman had been a virgin—until she’d accompanied him to his suite.

She lifted her head, still sitting astride him, looking down at him anxiously. He saw it then so clearly. The confidence of her actions earlier had deceived him. Her bravado. Her wild wantonness. Her complete power of seduction. It had all been an act. Had that innocence been there all along in her eyes? Had he been so blinded by desire he hadn’t seen it or—worse—ignored it?

He should have seen it. Should have stopped. Should have been in control. But what they’d just shared, from the very moment she’d first looked at him, had been unlike anything he’d ever known.

‘You should have told me.’ His voice was firm, steady and steely controlled. Which, considering a very naked woman still sat astride his lap, was no mean feat.

‘Losing my virginity to you—tonight—was my decision to make.’ The bold, confident woman who’d walked into the bar earlier and demanded champagne was back.

She agilely moved herself away from him and stood up, proudly naked in front of him as if to prove her point. Daring him to deny her claim. She was right. Of course she was right. Yet he couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that he’d taken something he shouldn’t have.

‘It was also my decision to take it—or not.’ He reached forward, snatching up his hastily discarded trousers, pulling them on.

How the hell had this happened? He’d claimed this alluring woman’s virginity in an unplanned night of passion when he’d just relented, just accepted that marriage, purely for convenience, was something he had to do.

He looked at her. Would she now cling to him? Cling to this moment, believing there was something more between them? Something he couldn’t ever give any woman.

‘You can rest assured that I have no intention of demanding anything other than tonight from you. I am not looking for long-term commitment and I certainly don’t crave the elusive happy-ever-after of marriage. Not from you. Not from any man.’

She stood defiantly before him, dark hair loose and wild about her shoulders, gloriously naked. The first fresh stirrings of desire began to wind themselves through his body. He fought to ignore that primal call. This night of uncomplicated sex had suddenly become as complicated as his life.

‘Why tonight? Why me?’ he asked, needing to know more, even though it would be a mistake. A mistake because that would make him think of her after tonight.

She looked at him, an air of defiance in her gaze. ‘Five years ago I was engaged—to a man I loved. A man I wanted to marry—as a virgin.’

Rafe frowned as he digested this piece of information. ‘What happened?’ As the question found voice, he instinctively knew that, whatever had happened, it was more than a falling-out-of-love issue.

Ana bit her lower lip, the first sign of nervousness he’d seen her display. Something inside him shifted.

‘One month before the wedding, he was killed in an accident.’

The mood in the room changed, the tension increasing. ‘I’m sorry.’

She moved closer to him, reminding him, if he needed it, that she was naked. ‘What is your story?’

Her question took him off guard, his mind partly occupied by her admission and partly by the slow burn of desire striking up once more.

‘My story?’ He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to spoil the passion of all they’d just shared with emotional issues.

‘Why tonight and why me?’ she said, echoing his question.

He laughed, desperate to calm the tension building higher than the desire of moments ago. ‘When a beautiful woman crosses my path, I’m not going to walk the other way.’

She looked hurt by his humour, his attempt to derail the conversation. His attempt to keep his secrets safe. Hell, she’d been honest with him, shared her pain, even if only briefly. It wasn’t as if they were in a relationship. They’d never see one another again. Didn’t he owe it to her?

Guilt forced his words out. ‘I have to get married.’

The room suddenly filled with a heavy silence as Ana looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief.

‘Have to?’ Then her frown disappeared as she drew her own conclusion. ‘You are going to be a father?’

‘No, not that.’ Rafe sighed. ‘Although that would be a lot less complicated.’

Ana hugged her arms around herself, looking chilled. He turned to pick up his discarded shirt, then placed it gently over her shoulders, his hands lingering longingly. She looked too sexy in his shirt.

‘I don’t understand.’ She turned to look up at him. Her expression, so serious, as if it really mattered to her. As if she understood.

‘My brother, Enzo, and I are twins. Our family has much wealth and property to hand onto the next generation. My father is terminally ill, and my brother has chosen this moment to inform him that he is unable to father a child, that his marriage is in trouble because of it. My father cannot see past the fact that the family name will not continue unless I marry and have a son.’

He’d never talked so openly, always guarded himself, but Ana had set something free within him. Frustration. It tore through him. Frustration for all he must do and because this moment was lost to such a discussion. Annoyance that the duty he had to prepare to undertake could snatch away even this night from him.

He looked down into Ana’s eyes, the gold flecks in them so bright, so full of desire that it took his breath away. ‘No more talking,’ she whispered, reaching up to kiss him.

‘No more talking,’ he said huskily, desire pounding through him once more. He wanted her again. Right now.

‘Then what are we going to do?’ she teased, as if sensing his need to change the subject, to revive the passion between them.

She giggled seductively as he scooped her up, carrying her across the apartment to the bedroom. He felt free. Alive. And it couldn’t end. Not yet.

‘Make love all night.’ He lowered her onto his bed before covering her body with his. ‘That is what you want, isn’t it?’

‘So very much,’ she said as she kissed him, setting fire to the embers of desire again. Whatever this was between them, it was far from over.