Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

heard him release his breath on a deep sigh. But when she looked up he was looking away from her. She laid her head against his chest, her hands gripping on to the back of his jacket as she breathed in the scent of him.

      All too soon the guests had formed a line to wish them well as they made the traditional exit through the arched arms of Rigo’s family and friends.

      They made their way in silence up the stone steps to the master suite at the top of the chateau. Nicole stopped for a moment in the middle of the corridor to slip her shoes off her feet. She moaned with relief as her aching toes lay flat on the carpeted floor.

      ‘Better?’ Rigo said huskily.

      She nodded. ‘It’s a long walk up here. Especially in heels.’

      He took a step towards her, cupping her face in one hand. ‘I can carry you if you like?’

      When she didn’t immediately respond he stepped closer again, his mouth lowering to lay another kiss on her neck. ‘I haven’t been able to stop inhaling this delicious scent all day.’

      ‘The photographers are gone, Rigo,’ she breathed, trying to ignore the immediate frisson of arousal that coursed through her body.

      ‘Let’s pretend they’re not.’

      Those words seemed to unlock a tension inside her that she hadn’t known was there. This kiss was different from the others—more urgent. His hands cupped her jaw, holding her in place as his tongue moved against hers. Their breath mingled into one as the rest of the world fell away. There was no one watching them now, no one to perform for. This was just for them.

      She stopped holding back and gave in to the arousal that threatened to burn her up, grabbing a fistful of his hair and groaning into his mouth as he pressed the evidence of his arousal against her. She wanted him. She wanted everything that she knew he couldn’t give her. And yet maybe just having tonight might make whatever came after easier to survive.

      It suddenly seemed impossible to stop.

      She took a deep breath, their eyes locked in the dim light of the corridor. ‘Rigo… If we go into that bedroom together, I want it to be real.’

      Rigo took her hand, pressing it to the hard beating of his heart through his shirt. ‘Do you actually doubt that it is?’

      She bit her lip, holding on to his hand as he led her down the hall and into the honeymoon suite. His lips were on hers as soon as the door had closed behind them. She barely had a moment to appreciate the romantic candlelight that glowed around the room before he was burning her up all over again. And, oh, it was good to burn.

      She turned and swept her hair to the side so that he could access the row of tiny pearl closures that ran down to the base of her spine.

      ‘Per l’amore di Dio—is this a dress or a straitjacket?’ Rigo breathed, popping open the tiny buttons one by one at a torturously slow pace. ‘It would be easier to just rip them open.’

      ‘It would. But you won’t.’ She bit her lip. ‘At least I hope you won’t.’

      ‘I can tell that you love this dress, so I will try to control myself.’

      He continued popping the tiny pearl fastenings until the dress was loose enough for her to shimmy it down. She did love this dress—not because it was haute couture, or because it was miles ahead of the fashion trend. She loved it because he loved it. And it would remind her forever of the awestruck look on his face as she’d walked down the aisle to become his wife.

      Nicole let the material fall slowly down her body to the floor before stepping out of the mountain of silk and chiffon. With his eyes firmly fixed on her half-naked body, she became painfully aware of how utterly on show she was.

      He stood back, undoing the knot of his tie and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. Nicole’s throat dried as his deliciously bronzed skin was revealed inch by inch, before he removed the shirt completely and dropped it to the floor.

      ‘Do you want me to fold that up?’ she asked coyly, unnerved by the crackling tension. ‘We wouldn’t want it to crease.’

      ‘No jokes, Nicole,’ he growled, grabbing her by the waist and holding her against him.

      ‘I’m nervous,’ she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

      ‘Dio, how can you not see how beautiful you are?’

      ‘You’re the only person to ever actually make me want to believe that.’

      ‘That sounds like a challenge, tesoro.’ His eyes gleamed.

       Chapter Seven

      SHE REACHED OUT, boldly running her hand across his bare chest, just as she had done that very first night in Paris a lifetime time ago. Only that time the room had been too dark for her to appreciate his perfection. Right now the faint glow of the candles bathed the room in just enough light.

      Her sense of exposure intensified, but with his eyes locked on hers and the heat she saw there some of her self-consciousness melted away. He was just as turned on as she was—just as wild with anticipation as he seemed to drink in every inch of her body. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes as he ran his hands down her body. He cupped both her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples through the silk and lace of her delicate bridal corset.

      The structured silk garment had originally been designed for practicality, not seduction. But as Rigo turned her around and she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror she began to understand the appeal of such feminine lingerie. She watched his eyes darken as he slowly pulled the laces loose. The fabric brushed against her already sensitive breasts as the whole thing loosened and came to rest around her hips.

      Rigo moved against her, the heat of his erection pressing on her lower back as his tongue licked a path up from the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror as his fingers explored her bare breasts, and Nicole couldn’t resist moving herself back against the hardness of him.

      Her hand seemed to reach down of its own accord to touch him through the fabric of his trousers. The pace of his breathing increased as she squeezed his length, then ran her fingernails down the hard ridge of his erection. The sound of his guttural moan filled her with pleasure, and her own heartbeat was now thumping powerfully in her chest.

      Rigo suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her with him across the room to the king-size four-poster bed. He sat on the coverlet and positioned her so that she stood facing him, trapped between his thighs. Her corset was dropped to the floor entirely, followed swiftly by her underwear.

      Nicole instinctively moved to cover her abdomen, knowing that the faint marks from her pregnancy were now in full view for him to see.

      Rigo moved Nicole’s hands away, holding them by her sides as he looked his fill.

      ‘Don’t hide yourself from me.’

      He leaned forward, taking one taut nipple in his mouth, his hands roaming on a path down her sides to cup her behind. And what a behind it was, he thought as he squeezed tight.

      Nicole began to relax, her body leaning into him as he kissed a trail between her breasts. She was unsure of herself, of her appearance. Why, he had no idea. He couldn’t make it any clearer how sexy he found her, how ridiculously turned on he was.

      So he stopped talking, instead focusing on showing her with his tongue, running it down her abdomen. With the way his hands caressed the front of her thighs, spreading them apart so that he could stroke his knuckles along the soft dark hair between. He slipped one fingertip inside the crease to tease her with gentle touches before running a smooth rhythm up and down the crease of her lips.

      Every