And Rio laughed with startled appreciation and looked at her, the humour slowly draining from his lean dark face to accentuate the black diamond glitter of his slumberous eyes and the feverish colour lacing his exotic cheekbones. ‘Am I being treated to bossy Ellie now?’
‘I have more than one setting. I can’t have you getting bored,’ Ellie murmured intently as her hand spread over his chest. ‘My goodness, I’m so pale I must look like a milk bottle beside you—’
Rio rolled over and pinned her half beneath him. ‘A very, very sexy, curvy milk bottle—’
‘In the mood you’re in you’d find anything female sexy,’ Ellie protested.
r /> ‘No, you really don’t get it, do you? Growing up, you were probably too busy polishing your brain cells to look in the mirror,’ Rio quipped, running a fingertip along the peach-soft curve of her lower lip. ‘You have the body of a goddess and a very beautiful face. Did I mention the gorgeous hair…?’
‘I hate the hair. I went through school being called “ginger,”’ Ellie muttered. ‘And “clever clogs.”’
‘But you still triumphed, bella mia. Passed all your exams, married me—’
‘Marrying you counts as a triumph?’ Ellie gasped.
‘See how you feel about me in the morning,’ Rio murmured with lashings of sexual assurance.
‘That you’re tiring me out?’ Ellie teased, her fingers dancing over a smooth bronzed shoulder, enjoyment lighting her eyes for such intimacy was very new to her and unexpectedly wonderful to find.
And then he leant down and he kissed her and it was exactly what he had promised, hot and hungry and wildly intoxicating. The heat of his long, lean, powerful frame against hers sent a current of prickling awareness flying across her entire skin surface. The plunge of his tongue electrified her, sending tiny shivers darting through every pleasure receptor. Her breasts tingled and swelled, the tips straining.
His mouth roamed over her, tugging at the sensitive buds, seeking out delicate spots and lingering. He worked his way down her body to explore the most responsive place of all and her hips writhed and her lips parted on tiny cries. She had never felt so much pleasure or such a relentless drive for release. It was as if something deep within her were screaming impatiently for satisfaction. She twisted and turned, drowning in sensation, her body programmed to leap and rise to fever point at his every caress. Slowly she could feel her control being torn away from her but this time it didn’t frighten her. She didn’t fight, she let go, rejoicing in the strong waves of pleasure convulsing her and thrumming like a euphoric song through every skin cell.
‘You’re really, really good at that,’ Ellie whispered, limp and breathless in the aftermath.
‘I’m good at a lot of things,’ Rio husked, all sexual promise and dominance as he rose over her, rearranging her singing body to his satisfaction.
And if he was set on proving the fact, he proved it as he plunged into her tender depths with passionate force, reawakening her to arousal. Her heart hammered, her adrenalin kicking in as she arched beneath him, deepening his penetration, and suddenly she was greedy to experience every thrilling sensation. He moved faster, lithe and potent. Her excitement climbed with every compelling thrust. Perspiration dampened her skin, a furnace-like heat rising from the heart of her as the desire for fulfilment clawed at her. And then she was there at the summit and the blinding surge of heart-stopping pleasure seized her body and soul. She jerked and shuddered and cried out, thrown over the boundary between reality and fantasy.
Afterwards, Ellie wrapped her arms tight round Rio, feeling madly affectionate and happy.
‘What are you doing?’ Rio asked, tensing.
CHAPTER NINE
‘I’M HUGGING YOU,’ Ellie said witheringly.
‘I don’t do hugs.’
‘I do a lot of hugging. You’ll have to get used to it.’ She sighed, blissfully unconcerned by his objection. She loved the hot, damp heaviness of him against her and smoothed her fingers gently down the long line of his spine. ‘If I’m pregnant, you’ll have a child to hug.’
She felt the charge of tension that stiffened him in her arms.
‘That day…you went pale at the prospect too,’ she pointed out sleepily, exhaustion weighing heavily on her.
‘Of course I did. I haven’t a clue how to be a parent,’ Rio pointed out feelingly. ‘How could I? I never had one—’
‘Just like me. You’ll learn as you go along,’ Ellie told him drowsily, the words slurring slightly.
Rio lifted his tousled dark head. ‘You can’t go to sleep yet… It’s our wedding night.’
But Ellie was already sound asleep. He went for a shower and eventually climbed back into bed.
Ellie wakened while it was still dark and suppressed a sigh. Her sleeping pattern had been disrupted by ever-changing shifts and a regular shortage of sufficient rest while she worked. Knowing that she was unlikely to drift off again, she got up and put on a comfy dress while scrutinising Rio as he lay sprawled in bed. He was taking up more than his share of the space, she noted without surprise. It was as well for him that he could look so good doing it, she acknowledged with tender amusement, noting the black hair curling against the pillow, the angular bone structure shaded in by stubble, the relaxed line of his mouth. Asleep he looked younger than his thirty years.
Dragging her attention from him, she went downstairs and the first thing she noticed in the sink of the elegant little kitchen was the bouquet of flowers, and guilt shot through her. A trawl through the cupboards produced a vase and she settled the blooms into water and put them on display in the sitting room. A search of the fridge revealed bottled water and savoury pastries and she ate standing up, watching the dawn light rise over the building on the other side of the canal and slowly illuminate the little garden.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Rio asked from behind her.