His Revenge Seduction: The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage / The Konstantos Marriage Demand / For Revenge or Redemption?. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.
heat of him, the hairs on his chest tickling her breasts, her molten core tingling for that final trigger that would send her to paradise once more.
He slid one of his hands down between their rocking bodies, his fingers finding the swollen-with-need pearl of her body, the stroking motion tipping her over the edge into oblivion.
As she was swirling back from the abyss of pleasure she felt him work himself to orgasm, the way he thrust on, his breathing ragged and heavy, his primalsounding grunts as he finally let go making her shiver all over in response.
The silence was heavy and scented with sex.
Emelia opened her eyes after timeless minutes to see Javier propped up on his elbows, looking down at her with those unreadable black eyes. She felt shy all of a sudden. She had not thought her body capable of such feeling, of such powerful mind-blowing responses. He had stirred her so deeply, and not just physically. It was more than that, so much more. She felt a feather brush over her heart. She felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach, like the wings of a small bird. She tried to hold on to the image that had appeared like a ghost inside her mind, but it vaporised into nothingness before she could make sense of it.
Javier brushed a damp strand of her hair back from her face. ‘You have a faraway look on your face,’ he said.
Emelia blinked herself back to the present. ‘I thought I remembered something else but it’s gone.’
As if sensing her frustration, he bent his head and kissed her forehead softly. ‘As long as you don’t forget this,’ he said, kissing both of her eyebrows in turn. ‘And this.’ He kissed the end of her nose. ‘And this.’ He kissed the corner of her mouth and she turned her head so her lips met his.
The heat leapt from his mouth to hers, the lightning flash of his tongue meeting hers causing an instant conflagration of the senses. Emelia felt the stiffening of his body where it was still encased in hers, the rapid rise of her pulse in time with his as he started moving within her. She ran her fingers through his hair, down over his shoulders, his back and then grasped the firm flesh of his buttocks, relishing the tension she could feel building in his body.
‘It is always this way between us,’ he growled against her mouth. ‘Once is never enough. I want you like I want no other woman. This need, it never goes away.’
Emelia felt a spurt of feminine pride that she had captivated his desire in such a way. ‘I want you too,’ she said, giving herself up to his passionately determined kiss.
He left her mouth to suckle on her breasts, a light teasing movement of his lips that left her breathless for more. He kissed the sensitive underside of each breast before coming back to her mouth, crushing it beneath his as his need for release built.
This time his lovemaking was fast and furious, as if all the frustration at her not remembering could only be expressed through the passionate connection of their bodies. He rolled her over until she was on top, his hands cupping her breasts as his dark eyes held hers. ‘You like it like this, querida,’ he said in a deep gravelly voice. ‘Make yourself come against me. Let me watch you.’
Shyness gripped her but the sensual challenge was too tempting to ignore. She could feel him against her most sensitive point when she shifted slightly. It was like a match to a flame to feel him hard and thick against her, the friction so delicious she was gasping out loud as she rode him unashamedly. She came apart within seconds, her cries of ecstasy ringing in the silence, her breathing choppy and her heart rate uneven.
He used her last few contractions to bring himself to completion, his eyes now screwed shut, his face contorted with the exquisite pleasure he was feeling. Emelia felt him empty himself, each rocking pulse of his body triggering aftershocks in hers.
She slumped down over him, more out of shyness than exhaustion, although her limbs felt leaden after so much pleasure. She felt his fingers absently stroking over each knob of her spine, lingering over her lower vertebrae, his touch still lighting fires beneath her skin.
When he spoke his voice reverberated against her chest. ‘Did that trigger anything in your memory?’
Emelia opened her eyes and, raising her head, looked down at him. Her heart squeezed in her chest as if a hand were closing into a fist around it. His dark eyes were like liquid, melted by passion, warm and softer than she had ever seen them. A feeling rushed up from deep inside her, an overwhelming sense of rightness. It was like a door creaking open in her head. Memories started filing through, like soldiers called to action. It was blurry at first, but then it cleared as she put the pieces together in her mind.
She remembered their first meeting. She remembered the way he had met her gaze across the room and how her fingers had stumbled on the piece she was playing. She had quickly looked away, embarrassed, feeling gauche and unsophisticated as she continued playing through her repertoire. She had never before reacted like that to any man who had come in. It had been an almost visceral thing. His presence seemed to reach out across the space that divided them and touch her.
She remembered how he had come over to the piano when she was packing up and asked her to join him for a drink. An hour later he had offered to drive her home, an offer she politely declined. He came the next night and the next, sitting listening to her play, slowly sipping at his drink, watching her until she finished. And each night he would offer to drive her home. By the third night she agreed. She remembered how she fell in love with him after their first kiss. She remembered how it felt to feel his arms go around her and draw her close to his body, the way her body felt in response, the way her heart beat until it felt as if it was going to work its way out of her chest.
She remembered the first time they made love. It was a month after they had met. He had been so gentle and patient, schooling her into the delights of her own body and the heat and potency of his. She could feel herself blushing just thinking about where they had gone from there. How eager she had been to learn, how willing she had been to be everything he wanted in a partner and then as his wife.
In spite of her initial reservations, she had moulded herself into the role, trying so hard to fit into his lifestyle, fashioning herself into the sort of trophy wife she assumed he wanted: a rail-thin clothes horse, a glamour girl always with a glass of champagne in one hand and a brilliant smile pasted on her perfectly made-up face. She had ignored the doubts that kept lurking in the shadows of her mind. Doubts about the way he refused to discuss his feelings, doubts about his adamantine stance about not having children, doubts about having signed the prenuptial document he’d insisted she sign, doubts about the intimidation she felt when alone at the villa with just his staff for company when he was away on business, which he seemed to be so often.
She had begun to feel she didn’t really belong in his life and that the fiery attraction that had brought them together initially was not going to be enough to sustain them in the long term. She had always known he desired her; it was the one thing she could count on. He never seemed to tire of making love with her. It had thrilled her at first but after a while she had begun to crave more from him than sex. She had fooled herself she would be able to change him, to teach him how to love her the way she loved him.
And then, in spite of what she had told him, she had begun to dream of having a baby. She silently craved to build a family with him, to put down the roots that had been denied her throughout her childhood. But she had never been brave enough to bring up the subject. She had obediently taken her contraceptive pills and done her best to ignore the screeching clamour of her biological clock until that fateful day when she had finally had enough. Finding out about his father’s will, on top of the press photo of him with the Russian singer, had tipped her over the edge. She had left him in the hope he would come after her and beg her to return. She had hoped he would insist on changing the rules of their marriage so they could have a proper fulfilling life together.
But of course he hadn’t. A man as proud as Javier would not beg anyone to come back to him. Look at what had happened between him and his father. A decade had gone past and he hadn’t budged.
‘Emelia?’ Javier’s deep voice broke through her thoughts. ‘What’s going on?’
She