Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 1 - 4. Эбби Грин

      The sheer rigidity of his jaw, the depths of his green gaze, they said this merging of their bodies was something more for Andreas, as well.

      They moved together, slowly at first, the pleasure so intense and different and incredibly special until suddenly she needed more and so did he. His thrusts were hard and fast, her body meeting his with equal fervor and passionate need. They rutted together in animalistic need, while their souls intertwined around them in a spiritual ecstasy Kayla knew she would never experience with another.

      Ecstasy spiraled inside, tighter and tighter, her limbs felt tight and loose at the same time, electric sparks buzzing under her skin.

      He praised her in a mixture of English and Greek, telling her she was the sexiest woman he’d ever had, the best lover, tightest, best connection, that she felt better than anything he’d ever known. He demanded her pleasure and she gave it to him.

      Every bit of pleasure and joy she was capable of.

      “You are so beautiful in your pleasure, pethi mou.” Andreas grabbed her hips and tilted her pelvis up, then changed his angle of thrust, doing a twist with his hips when his pelvis met hers.

      “I love...what you are doing to me!” she cried, holding back the word she wanted to say, knowing the admission would be unwelcome.

      The new sensations sent her into final sexual overload, her body convulsing with a climax of cataclysmic proportions she could no more hold back than stop loving Andreas.

      She arched up toward him, her muscles locked in a rictus of delight, her scream loud and long, his name coming out on a wail. “Andreas!”

      “That is right, Kay-love. Mine. You are mine.”

      His possessive words washed over her, increasing her pleasure, his knowing touch on her body prolonging her climax even as she felt him join her in orgasm. And as she felt the heat of his come inside her for the first time, she had a second climax, her womb contracting, her body’s response to that perfect sensation.

      * * *

      As Kayla came apart for a second time below him, Andreas shook from the aftershocks of his own mind-blowing climax. He hadn’t just come, he’d had a near out-of-body experience. Nothing like sex was supposed to be. Easy. Stress reducing, but nothing special.

      It had never been that simple with Kayla. He’d had other lovers, but not one of them had come close to turning him inside out like she did.

      Ecstasy still coursed through him, locking his muscles, making his heart pound, his blood hot in his veins, a one-word refrain repeating over and over again in his brain. Mine.

      She was his. She had to see that now. See how this, them together in the same bed, was inevitable.

      He finally saw it. It had taken him six years, but Andreas finally got it.

      Kayla was meant to be his. Not just his business partner. Not just his family by default because she was his best friend, but the woman who would make his plan to prove his value, his plans for the future, happen.

      She made that small postcoital whimpering sound that had always driven him wild. “Andreas.”

      Nothing more, just his name, but in that breathy tone? With that sated expression on her beautiful café au lait face? It was all he needed. He would convince her that their futures were entwined.

      There was no other choice.

      He’d made her see six years ago that they needed to go into business together. Now he would convince her that marriage was the next logical step for them. Because not being in each other’s lives, that was not an option.

      Twisting his hips and pressing down, he drew out the dregs of their pleasure, pulling a moan from her, his own sexual satisfaction so deep he had to bite back a growl. “This is right, Kay-love. Admit it.”

      She gasped, looking at him with liquid gray eyes.

      He kissed her, demanding her body’s agreement with his lips. Her hips cradled him so perfectly, her mouth so soft against his own, the kiss surprisingly passionate considering what they had just done and how they had both come so spectacularly.

      But his body was not done, his hard-on never growing soft despite his climax, and within moments of the beginning of their passionate kiss, he was moving his hips again. Taking his time on this round, he drew out their pleasure, rubbing their bodies together even as he pressed in and drew out of her velvet heat in a rhythm as old as time, but that felt like something altogether new, just between them.

      Kayla moved against him, her hands on his body, touching him with instinctual knowledge of what would enhance his pleasure. She tugged him closer to her, like she wanted to meld their skin together, amping up his arousal.

      Her desire for him was an aphrodisiac all on its own.

      This time when she climaxed, her cry was soft and raw, her hands clutching his back, her nails digging into his skin. He reveled in the small pain as he came inside her, knowing that though chance was small, there was a chance they had a made a child together. That knowledge increased his own bliss tenfold, forcing a primal shout of victory from him.

      She was his.

      He smiled as her eyelids drooped, content to watch her fall asleep. She’d often done this before, napping for a few minutes to an hour after sex. And he spent the time watching her sleep. There was something intimate about this ritual, and personal, something only theirs.

      He had not realized how much he had missed watching her in slumber, but something settled inside him as she showed him the ultimate trust as her entire body relaxed into unconsciousness.

      He withdrew from her and rolled to the side, laying an unashamedly possessive hand over her stomach. The thought of her carrying his child was incredibly appealing. Visions of a little girl with curly black hair and gray eyes like her mama flashed in his mind’s eye.

      Kayla only slept about ten minutes, coming awake with a kittenish scrunching of her nose. Her gray gaze caught his in solemnity. “You’re still here.”

      “It is my bed.” He had brought her to his room on purpose. He’d been making a statement, but he wasn’t sure she got it.

      “You stayed in it. You don’t always. I’m surprised you’re not in the shower already.”

      “Much more enjoyable to share the shower.” He winked.

      She didn’t smile. Didn’t reply, but simply stared at him with fathomless eyes. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and he didn’t like it.

      Without more discussion, he got up and lifted her out of the bed.

      She yelped. “Andreas, what do you think you are doing?”

      “Carrying you to the shower.”

      “I can walk!”

      “I never doubted it.” He nudged the large en suite bathroom’s door open with his shoulder.

      The oversize glass-encased shower was nearly as big as the one in his condominium back in Portland, sufficient space enough for two, especially if they didn’t mind getting close. And as far as he was concerned, that was the whole idea. He had always enjoyed washing her body, the intimacy of it something that touched him on a level he would never speak about, but it was especially good after they made love.

      He felt like he was taking care of her.

      She was so independent, there were few instances she allowed him to do so.

      But in the shower, with several showerheads sending heated water cascading over both of them, Kayla allowed him to minister to her body, going soft in a way she so rarely did outside the bedroom.

      This time, she stood stiffly at first and he was worried something had changed too much in their dynamic in the intervening six years between being lovers, not lovers and lovers again. She grabbed the luxurious natural loofah that