The Sarantos Secret Baby

She keened. With relief, with the spike in arousal. “Please…”

His eyes shot up, twin steel infernos. Everything inside her surged toward him, needing anything…anything he’d do to her….

What was she thinking, doing? This was Aristedes Sarantos. Her family’s enemy. Her enemy…

“Say no,” he groaned as he sank back over her, suckling her neck in pulls that made her feel he was drawing her heartbeats right into his own body. “Tell me to stop. If you don’t tell me to stop, I’ll devour you.”

The brief shock at the acute turn this had taken was expunged right there and then. She was certain of one thing.

She couldn’t say no. She couldn’t bear it if he stopped.

And she told him. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“Then tell me not to stop. Tell m—” He stopped, pushed away from her, hissed as if he was tearing his skin off. “Theos…I have to stop, to tell you to go.” When she started to protest, he gritted his teeth. “I don’t have protection.”

Her heart punched her ribs. With elation, that he didn’t have protection as a mandatory measure. With disappointment, that this would force him to put an end to this magical interlude. And she couldn’t let it end.

“I’m safe…and i-it’s the wrong time of the month…” She almost choked. She’d only ever had sex with one man, three times to be exact, years ago. Anyone hearing her would think she was an old hand in impromptu sexual encounters.

But she didn’t care. She wanted this. Wanted him. Felt she’d disintegrate if he didn’t just…just…

“I’m safe, too.” He was back over her, giving her what she needed, with the exact force and urgency that she needed it.

He tore at her clothes, predatory growls issuing from him at every inch he exposed and owned. Those became aggressive with impatience when her pants’ zipper snagged and tore in his urgent fingers. “Skirts, kala mou, wear skirts…”

Her ravenous sobs turned to giddy giggles, seeming to feed his frenzy. She hadn’t worn skirts since high school. She’d wear anything he wanted, if it made him mindless with the same need tearing at her.

She writhed with stimulation and embarrassment as he bared her legs to his hunger, captured them in his powerful hands, spread them for his bulk and ground his hardness against her soaked core through their remaining clothing. She cried out with anticipation…and anxiety.

If she felt her heart would stampede out of her rib cage now, how would she feel when he took it further, took her?

Then he slid down on his knees between her legs, feasted on them, sinking his teeth into her quivering flesh, leaving marks that evaporated as they formed, yet felt as if they had marked her forever.

“Beautiful, perfect…” He dragged her panties down her legs, opened them wide and without giving her a chance to draw another breath, he opened the lips of her core, slid his fingers into her fluid heat. She cried out, then again with the first contact of his hot lips and tongue with her swollen, intimate flesh. Then again and again when he licked and suckled her, growling his enjoyment.

She was dying for the release she felt would consume her with his next strokes, but she wanted far more to be joined with him, to reach that release with him, around him.

And she begged, “With you, please…with you filling me…”

He lifted raging eyes to her, rasped something incoherent as if all the tethers holding his sanity in place had snapped wholesale. He rose over her, freed himself, left no chance for the alarm at his daunting size to register before he dragged her by the legs, lifted them around his waist. He caressed her flaming flesh with his satin steel, bathed himself in her flowing readiness in one teasing stroke, from her bud to her opening.

On the next stroke, he plunged inside her, fierce and full.

Her whole body arched before going nerveless as he overstretched her, forged to unknown depths inside her. She collapsed beneath him in sensual shock so deep her sight, her scream, vanished, only one thing left in her. The need to engulf all of him, have him invade her to the last reaches of her body and soul, assuage all the anguish and erase all the loss.

And he did, thrust inside her over and over, thrust her beyond her limits, beyond her endurance, beyond her existence.

She regained her sight, saw him above her, eyes crackling with the same insanity that had her at its mercy. Then her voice came back, begged him for more, more, to never, ever stop.

The begging became shrieks as her insides splintered on pleasure too sharp to register, then to bear, then to bear having it end. His roars echoed her desperation as his body caught the current of her convulsions, fed them with his own, poured his release on the conflagration that was consuming her, sending it spiraling out of control.

Nothing registered for an eternity.

Nothing but being merged with him in ultimate intimacy, feeling him still shuddering over her, inside her, pouring his essence into her recesses.

Then everything seeped back, a trickle at first, then a current. Then a flood surged over her.

What had she done?

This should be a fantasy of her overwrought psyche. Finding an explosive release in the arms of the one man who would cause enough trouble and heartache to take her mind off her bereavement.

But this was real.

She’d made unbelievable, abrupt, climactic love with Aristedes Sarantos.

And she wanted more.

Aftershocks still quaked through her; his rock-hard arousal still occupied her brutally satisfied flesh. But pangs of withdrawal were already intensifying, tension roaring inside her again. More, her body screamed. Him, them, like this. Like this…

As if he’d heard the clamor, he responded to the intimate flesh throbbing demand around him, thrust deeper into her as he raised himself on extended arms, palms flat beside her head.

She dreaded meeting his eyes.

Would that distance be there again? Or worse, dismay, or disdain or disgust?

“You should not only be a licensed attorney, but a licensed weapon, kala mou. You could easily finish a man.”

Her gaze fluttered to his and she almost whimpered in relief.

Far from anything she’d feared, his eyes were pouring scorching sensuality and indulgence over her. She felt so thankful that she dug her fingers into the luxury of his mussed satin locks, brought his head down to close each eye with a trembling kiss.

He stilled over her, letting her offer and savor the moment of tenderness.

Then he pulled back. And she gasped.

That dangerous desire was a storm roiling in his eyes again, the drugged veil of short-lived satisfaction vanishing in the blast of renewed need.