Revelations of His Runaway Bride

He snapped his hand over hers. ‘Stop.’

Every part of him screamed for her to go on. He’d never craved anything more. Atlas Shipping? He’d sign it all away for her fingers to continue

their cartography of his body. But she wasn’t his. He wouldn’t take her.

He opened his eyes. Hers were heavy-lidded, with a sultry golden glow. She stepped back, slid her hand from under his. Broke their touch. The loss of her was immediate and brutal. But a quiet, knowing smile tilted the corners of her mouth.

Thea reached around and drew down the tiny zipper at the back of her dress. Christo watched the mirror behind her, as if in slow motion. Each notch of the zip punched another hit of lust into his gut. She tugged at the bow holding the halter neck and shrugged the dress free. Red lace slithered over her body, caressing each curve as it fell. She stood there. Bare except for the glittering heels and the tiny scrap of a G-string covering the apex of her thighs. The dress swirled at her feet, the colour of blood.

That should be his blood on the floor. His sacrifice to this goddess, all honeyed skin and slender waist and perfect breasts, her nipples taut and ripe. Ready for him.

‘Thea...’ His voice rasped, unrecognisable. A plea? A prayer of thanks? He couldn’t tell. He wanted all she was offering. Wanted to consume her. But he’d leave nothing behind if he had his way.

‘Please, Christo...’

He shook his head, trembling with the effort of ignoring the desire raging through him. ‘Not for me.’

‘You’re worth it.’

He wasn’t. But those words... They broke him.

He strode forward. Wrapped his arms around her and grasped the smooth, warm flesh under his hands. Her skin was warm satin against his palms. She melted into him. Sighed as he took her lips with his. His tongue plundered her luscious mouth. She was tentative at first, before softening into the rhythm, willing and hungry.

She lifted her hands to his hair and he shivered at the scrape of her fingernails against his scalp. He slipped his hands to her buttocks, round and bare, holding her against his hard, aching body.

She ground against him, mewling and desperate. If he didn’t get her to the bed soon they’d both finish here. He hooked his fingers into her flimsy underwear, slid it past her hips and let it fall to the floor. He battled with the fly of his trousers and cast them aside with his briefs. Thank God he was only half dressed, so he wouldn’t have to waste more time. He was a wreck of desire.

He swept Thea into his arms and lowered her onto the bed. She scrambled back against the pillows, her body splayed out like an offering. Waiting. He slid a hand along the smooth swell of her calf. She dropped her head back and moaned. He eased off one stiletto, and then the other, all the while indulging in a visual feast of her golden skin and luxurious curves. Glowing, wanton and perfect.

‘I’m coming for you, Thea.’

She shivered as he crawled over the top of her, his vision fogged by the red roar of arousal. Her dusky pink nipples peaked in hard points. He bent down and lavished one with the attention of his tongue. Her low cries of pleasure pierced the room. She smelled of spices and musk. Exotic. Delectable. Driving him on. Driving him to madness.

He was so hard he’d shatter before long. And Thea’s body trembled at each touch. He needed her warm softness to envelop him. His mouth watered at the thought of the night ahead. Devouring her body. Pleasuring her till dawn. Taking the pleasure he’d denied himself. Now she was his.

He lay next to her, sliding his hand down her stomach, easing his fingers into the dark triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, exploring the hot, plush folds of her. She arched into him as he stroked her there. He wanted to watch her fall apart, but that would be the end of him. She was everything. Too much. Like a dream he’d awoken into.

He rolled away. Grappled with protection. If he let her touch him he’d explode. He moved over her again. Settled between trembling thighs which had fallen open for him. He was beyond sanity, almost beyond all control. And then that thinnest of threads snapped. She was here. She was ready. Thea.

In one fluid movement he thrust hard and took what was his. And as he buried himself in the heart of her body he realised he’d made a terrible mistake.

* * *

Too fast. Too much. Too everything. The fire consumed her, deep inside. And Christo above her. Still, silent apart from his ragged breaths. She was trying not to breathe. Not to move. If she didn’t, it might not hurt.

Was it meant to be like this? She’d had orgasms before, on her own. They were fun, and she’d assumed with someone else it would be even better.

But tonight? All the pleasure, and then...

She stiffened.

Christo dropped his forehead to hers. His strong, muscular arms bracketed the sides of her head, his heavy weight pressing her down.

‘You should have told me.’

His voice was gentle. Kind. Her humiliation, complete.

‘It didn’t seem important.’