Название | Demetriou Demands His Child |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Кейт Хьюит |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Modern |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474044172 |
Alekos took her hand and Iolanthe stepped out of the dress, the satin whispering about her slender legs. Her hands went to his chest, fingers fumbling on the studs of his shirt, her lovely brow puckered in concentration. With an impatient hiss of breath Alekos pulled them out himself and then shrugged out of the shirt, tossing his cummerbund aside.
Iolanthe’s mouth curved and her eyes glowed as she stroked his bare chest, her fingers teasing the crisp hair. ‘You’re exquisite,’ she said, and he laughed, the sound hoarse.
‘No one has ever called me that before.’
‘They should.’ With soft hands she stroked his chest and torso, down to the waistband of his trousers where she stopped shyly. ‘You’re beautiful, Alekos.’
‘Come to bed.’ Even through the fog of his desire Alekos saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes but then she came willingly, proudly even, her chin held high as she walked towards him, her hips swaying.
He should stop this. He knew he should stop this, before Iolanthe got hurt, before he was the one who hurt her. Then she lifted silvery eyes to his face, her whole expression one of acceptance and invitation and hope, and, with a suppressed groan, he took her hand and led her towards the bedroom.
* * *
The silken sheets were slippery and cool under Iolanthe’s naked body. Within seconds Alekos joined her on the bed, taking her into his arms. Somehow he’d become naked. She felt the hard muscles of his chest, the rough hair of his legs, and, most excitingly, the insistent throb of his erection, all against her. It was almost too much sensation, short-circuiting her thought processes, so all she could do was feel and respond.
Iolanthe arched against him, sucking in a shocked breath as his hands skimmed her most private places. No one had ever touched her so intimately, and then more intimately still as Alekos’s hand stroked between her legs and pleasure flared.
‘You like that?’ he murmured huskily.
‘Yes.’ She buried her head in his neck, embarrassed by her own overwhelming reaction. Alekos continued to touch her with such sure expertise that it wasn’t long before her body was acting of its own accord, legs parting, hips thrusting as she sought the apex of the pleasure he gave her.
She’d only just reached that shining pinnacle, her body shuddering with the force of a climax that shocked her with its intensity, when Alekos was poised over her, his arousal nudging her thighs, his face drawn into harsh lines and angles.
‘Iolanthe...’
‘Yes.’ She arched upwards, accepting him into her body, craving him all the more. Even so, that first tender invasion made her gasp, her body stiffening against the unfamiliar sensation.
Alekos stilled, his breath coming in tearing gasps as he waited for her to adjust to the feel of him. ‘Is this—?’
‘It’s fine.’ She breathed in deeply, letting the sense of completeness flood her senses. ‘It’s good.’ And it was good, wonderful even, as she reeled at the newness and strangeness of it, understanding instinctively that she had crossed a threshold and could never go back. She was innocent no longer.
Then Alekos began to move inside her and thoughts fled her mind as she matched his rhythm, pleasure beginning to build once more, higher and higher, until she was crying out as she clutched his shoulders.
Alekos let out a groan as his body shuddered inside her, his head buried in the curve of her neck as Iolanthe closed her eyes and gave herself up to pleasure.
* * *
Alekos rolled off her, one arm thrown across his face as the last of his climax shuddered through him.
What had he done?
What had he been thinking, taking Iolanthe’s virginity? He hadn’t even used birth control. All he could think was that some sort of madness had gripped him, holding him in its thrall all evening. And now that his body was finally sated, his mind acknowledged the disastrous consequences of his actions, and regret and remorse replaced the lust that had overwhelmed him so utterly.
He’d taken something from her he’d had no right to take, no matter that they’d both been compliant, eager even. He bore the responsibility, the blame.
Alekos lowered his arm and glanced at Iolanthe. She lay on her back, her face flushed, a damp tendril of ink-black hair curling against her cheek. Her eyes were closed, but they fluttered open as if she sensed his scrutiny, and her hesitant gaze clashed with his as she bit her lip.
‘I’m sorry,’ Alekos said in a low voice. Iolanthe flinched.
‘Sorry?’ she repeated, her voice wobbling. ‘Why?’
Alekos heaved a sigh. ‘I shouldn’t have done this. It was my fault entirely.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Did I have no say in it, then?’
Alekos smiled tiredly, heartened to see that she could show some spirit despite their situation. ‘Perhaps, but you are young—’
‘Stop telling me how young I am.’ She scrambled up to a sitting position, reaching for the rumpled sheet to clutch to her chest. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and, although her eyes still flashed, her lips trembled. ‘I’m twenty.’ Six years younger than him. Alekos felt a stab of pity mixed with shameful irritation. He didn’t want her tears. ‘I don’t regret anything,’ she said defiantly. ‘Maybe we rushed things, but it doesn’t change how I feel.’
Alekos stilled, his gaze narrowing as his insides iced. ‘How you feel?’ he repeated neutrally.
‘Yes...’ Iolanthe’s fingers clenched on the sheet. ‘We...we have a connection, Alekos.’ She nodded towards the still-warm bed. ‘Obviously.’
‘A sexual connection,’ he clarified flatly. Iolanthe frowned.
‘Yes, but...it’s more than that, surely?’ Her teeth sank into her lip again as she gazed at him, and Alekos suppressed a groan at the uncertainty he saw there. The innocence and honesty that had mere hours ago intrigued and attracted him now only appalled.
He should have expected this. He had expected it, before he’d let his libido obliterate his brain. Iolanthe had confused sex with love. How could she have done otherwise, considering her inexperience?
The kindest thing, the only thing, to do was be blunt. Ruthless. Refuse to allow even the smallest bud of hope to be nurtured. Hope, he knew, was a cruel thing when it wasn’t warranted. And it wasn’t warranted with him.
Alekos rose from the bed and reached for his trousers, his back to her as he stated flatly, ‘It’s not more than that, Iolanthe. We desired one another physically. We had sex. That’s it.’ Each word felt like a grenade hurled into the room, ready to explode. From the bed Alekos heard an audible sniff and he closed his eyes, forcing back the acidic burn of regret. Another sniff.
Reaching for his shirt, Alekos turned to face Iolanthe. In the few seconds it had taken him to dress and turn around, she’d composed herself and now lifted her chin, her eyes giving away nothing save for a telltale sheen. She still clutched the sheet to her chest.
‘I see.’ She spoke with dignity, even if her voice wobbled, and Alekos felt a flicker of admiration for her strength of spirit. ‘So that’s it, then? You take my virginity and kick me to the door?’
‘You offered it,’ Alekos retorted before he could stop himself.
‘And you take what’s on offer, I suppose?’ Her lovely face contorted with contempt that cut him to the quick. ‘I’m really very stupid, aren’t I? I thought... I thought...’ She shook her head, self-disgust and sorrow evident on every line of her face.
Regret