Playing by the Greek's Rules (Puffin Island 0.50)

The droplets of water on his chest dampened her thin sundress until it felt as if there were nothing between them.

She felt him pull her hard against him, felt his hand slide down her back and cup her bottom so that she was pressed against the heavy thrust of his erection.

‘I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this but I want you.’ He spoke in a thickened tone, and she gave a sob of relief.

‘I want you, too. You have no idea how much. Right through lunch I wanted to rip your clothes off and remove that severe look from your face.’

He lifted his mouth from hers, his breathing uneven, the smouldering glitter of his eyes telling her everything she needed to know about his feelings. ‘Do I look severe now?’

‘No. You look incredible. This has been the longest week of my life.’ She backed towards the bed, pulling him with her. If he changed his mind she was sure she’d explode. ‘Don’t have second thoughts. I know this is about sex and nothing else. I don’t love you, but I’d love a repeat of all those things you did to me the other night.’

With sure hands, he dispensed with her sundress. ‘All of them?’

‘Yes.’ She wanted him so badly it was almost indecent and when he lowered his head and trailed his mouth along her neck she almost sobbed aloud. ‘Please. Right now. I want your whole repertoire. Don’t hold anything back.’

‘You’re shy, it’s still daylight,’ he growled, ‘and I don’t have a blindfold.’

‘I’m not shy. Shy has left the party. I don’t care, I don’t care.’ Her hands moved over his chest and lower to his damp swimming shorts. She struggled to remove them over the thrusting force of his erection but finally her frantic fumbling proved successful and she covered him with the flat of her hand.

He groaned low in his throat and tipped her onto the bed, covering her body with his, telling her how much he wanted her, how hard she made him, until the excitement climbed to a point where she was a seething, writhing mass of desire. She tore at his shirt with desperate hands and he swore under his breath and wrenched it over his head, his fingers tangling with hers.

‘Easy, slow down, there’s no rush.’

‘Yes, there is.’ She rolled him onto his back and pressed her mouth to the hard planes of his chest and lower until she heard him groan. She tried to straddle him but he flipped her onto her back and caught her shifting hips in his hands, anchoring her there.

Despite the simmering tension, there was laughter in his eyes. ‘It would be a criminal waste to rush this, theé mou.’

‘No, it wouldn’t.’ She slid her hands over the silken muscles of his back. ‘It might kill me if you don’t.’

It was hard to know which of them was most aroused. She saw it in the glitter of his eyes and heard it in his uneven breathing. Felt it in the slight shake of his fingers as he unhooked her bra and peeled it away from her, releasing her breasts, taking his time. Everything he did was slow, unhurried, designed to torture her and she wondered how he could exercise so much control, such brutal discipline, because if it had been up to her the whole thing would have been over by now. He kept her still with his weight, with soft words, with skilled kisses and the sensual slide of his hand that dictated both position and pace.

She felt the cool air from the ceiling fan brush the heated surface of her skin and then moaned aloud as he drew her into the dark heat of his mouth. Sensation was sweet and wild and she arched into him, only to find herself anchored firmly by the rough strength of his thigh. He worked his way down her body with slow exploratory kisses and she shivered as she felt the brush of his lips and the flick of his tongue. Lower, more intimate, his mouth wandered to the shadows between her thighs and she felt the slippery heat of his tongue opening her, tasting her until she could feel the pleasure thundering down on her. She was feverish, desperate, everything in her body centred on this one moment.

‘Nik—I need—’

‘I know what you need.’ A brief pause and then he eased over her and into her, each driving thrust taking him deeper until she didn’t know where she ended and he began and then he paused, his hand in her hair and his mouth against hers, eyes half closed as he studied her face. She was dimly aware that he was saying something, soft intimate words that blurred in her head and melted over her skin. She felt the delicious weight of him, the masculine invasion, the solidity of muscle, the scrape of his jaw against hers as he kissed her, murmured her name and told her all the things he wanted to do to her. And she moaned because she wanted him to do them, right now. He was controlling her but she didn’t care because he knew things about her she didn’t know herself. How to touch her, where to touch her. All she wanted was more of this breath-stealing pleasure and then he started to move, slowly at first, and then building the rhythm with sure, skilled thrusts until she was aware of nothing but him, of hard muscle and slick skin, of the frenzy of sensation until it exploded and she clung to him, sobbing his name as her body tightened on his, her muscles rippling around the thrusting length of him drawing out his own response.

She heard him groan her name, felt him slide his hand into her hair and take her mouth again so that they kissed their way through the whole thing, sharing every throb, ripple and flutter in the most intimate way possible.

The force of it left her shaken and stunned and she lay, breathless, trying to bring herself slowly back to earth. And then he shifted his weight and gathered her close, murmuring something in Greek as he stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her mouth gently.

They lay for a moment and then he scooped her up and carried her into the shower where, under the soft patter of steamy water, he proceeded to expand her sexual education with infinite skill until her body no longer felt like her own and her legs felt like rubber.

‘Nik?’ She lay damp and sated on the tangled sheets, deliciously sleepy and barely able to keep her eyes open. ‘Is that why you don’t like coming back here? Because it reminds you of your childhood?’

He stared down at her with those fathomless black eyes, his expression inscrutable. ‘Get some sleep.’ His voice was even. ‘I’ll wake you in time to change for dinner.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I have work to do.’

In other words she’d strayed into forbidden territory. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was another question she wanted to ask him, but her brain was already drifting into blissful unconsciousness and she slid into a luxurious sleep.

* * *

Nik returned to the terrace and made calls in the shade, one eye on the open doors of Lily’s bedroom.

So much for his resolve not to touch her again.