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Leonidas pulled free, scanning her with hot golden eyes before he spun her round. He was struggling to rein back his desire, as it had naturally occurred to him that her walkout more than two years earlier might have been her understandable reaction to a less than successful introduction to sex. Although she had acted as though everything was amazing, he was uneasily aware of her predilection for politeness. That sliver of doubt that he had buried since their love-making was beginning to haunt him again because, if that was the problem, he wanted to know. He ran down the zip on her dress and skimmed it very slowly down over her arms while he used his expert mouth to trace a pattern across the tender skin at the nape of her neck.
‘Oh-h-h…’ Trembling, Maribel closed her eyes and let the tiny little shivers of delicious response ripple through her and gather momentum. At that instant, she could not find an ounce of decent resistance or restraint. Her knees were wobbling. She was melting from inside out.
‘I’ll make it spectacular, hara mou,’ Leonidas told her.
A surge of love laced with reluctant amusement overwhelmed Maribel: Leonidas would never knowingly undersell himself.
‘Maybe it wasn’t quite spectacular the last time,’ Leonidas breathed without warning.
Her dreamy eyes shot wide in surprise and she whispered uncertainly, ‘I never said that.’
Leonidas was tense. He noticed that she was not contradicting him and he wondered why the hell he had embarked on such a dialogue. It was not his style. ‘You were a virgin. It was unlikely to be perfect.’
Maribel flipped round in the circle of his arms and before she could think better of the impulse said, ‘I thought it was.’
Dense black lashes lifted on his tawny eyes. ‘The first time?’
Even that first times she realised helplessly, but she didn’t think he needed or deserved that ego-boosting information.
Leonidas saw no reason to enquire further. Perfect? That rare and very disturbing moment of sexual self-doubt evaporated like a bad dream. His tension banished, he crushed the rosy pouting curve of her lips under his and sent her dress shimmying down to her ankles in a superbly choreographed manoeuvre that came very naturally to a male of his extensive experience. Disposing of the band of lace covering her lush, creamy breasts, he backed her down onto the big bed before she had even registered it was gone.
‘You’re seriously good at this stuff,’ Maribel told him helplessly, feeling shamefully exposed and wonderfully decadent at one and the same time.
Shedding his shirt, Leonidas sent her a wolfish smile that was pure provocation. She watched him stroll back to her and her breath tripped in her throat. He was beautifully built, with wide, bronzed shoulders, a hard, muscular chest and long, powerful legs. He paused to peel off his trousers. The aggressive bulge of his arousal was clearly delineated by his boxers and burning pink blossomed in her cheeks. She felt she should look away and she couldn’t. Tantalising heat tingled between her thighs and she pressed them together guiltily. That night, at Imogen’s house, she had not even seen him undress, for things had got out of hand incredibly fast after he’d kissed her. They had made love in the dark, on top of the bed, still half dressed, too wild with passion and impatience to take their time. Never in her life had she imagined she could be like that with a man, feel like that, or even behave like that. It was only now that she was even allowing herself to remember how it had been.
Leonidas studied Maribel with raw masculine appreciation. She was all creamy opulence and soft ripe curves. He noticed the abstracted look in her gaze. ‘What are you thinking about?’
‘That night…er…at Imogen’s house.’ His unexpected question drew a more honest answer from her than she would have given, had she had forewarning.
‘You ripped my shirt off me, hara mou…’ His smouldering appraisal flamed reflective gold.
‘Did I?’ Maribel mumbled in a stifled tone, since she had hoped that he had long since forgotten that kind of detail.
‘It was mind-blowing…it was the hottest sex I ever had.’ After the unchallenged passage of that all-forgiving word, ‘perfect’, Leonidas was finally willing to concede that fact.
Cheeks fiery, Maribel studied her bare feet.
Leonidas came down beside her and pulled her close with a possessive hand. He lowered his tousled dark head to the inviting swell of her glorious breasts. He teased a straining rosy crest with his lips. He pressed her back and flicked his tongue skilfully over its twin to coax an ever stronger reaction from her. Her fingers sank into the silky black depths of his hair and she gasped, her throat extending. There was a throbbing pulse at the slick centre of her body, beating out the longing that she had suppressed since they were last together. Now her ability to hold back her hunger was being destroyed piece by piece.
