The Demetrios Virgin

‘Saskia?’ he demanded, striding towards the bathroom and pulling open the door.

Saskia blanched as she saw him. She had just that second stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her damp body—thank goodness.

‘Why are you having a shower?’ Andreas demanded suspiciously.

Saskia stared at him nonplussed.

‘I’ve just been for a walk and it was hot and...’

Andreas could feel the shock of his jealousy jolt right through his body, exploding inside him, almost a physical pain. It furnished him with some very vivid and very sexual images of just why Saskia might want to cool down. Like any man in love, he couldn’t bear the thought of his beloved in the arms of someone else, and he reacted predictably.

Taking hold of her, his fingers gripping painfully into the delicate flesh of her upper arms, he gritted jealously, ‘You just couldn’t wait, could you? Where did he take you?’

‘He...?’ Saskia started to protest, confused by both his words and his actions. ‘What on earth...?’

But Andreas wasn’t listening.

‘Was it out in the open, where anyone could have seen you? Is that what you like, Saskia...demeaning yourself so completely that...? But of course you do. I already know that, don’t I? You want to be treated badly, to be used and then discarded like a... Well, then, if that’s the way you like it then let’s see if I can come up to your expectations, shall we? If I can give you what you so obviously want.’

He was a man no longer in control of what he was doing, wanting passionately to stamp his possession on her—body and soul—to make her his and wipe from her memory all thoughts of any other man!

What on earth had happened to turn Andreas from the cool, remote man she was familiar with into the raw explosion of male fury and passion she was facing now? Saskia wondered in bemusement. It was passion she could sense most strongly, she recognised dizzily. It emanated from him like a heat haze, drawing her into its danger and excitement, melting, burning away her own protective caution.

Wasn’t this secretly what a part of her had wanted to happen? For him to look at her as he was doing now, with the fierce, elemental need of a man no longer able to fight off his own desire.

Somehow, seeing Andreas so close to losing control allowed her to give full reign to her own feelings and longings.

‘You’re mine,’ Andreas was telling her rawly as he pulled her hard against his body. ‘Mine, Saskia... And what is mine I mean to have full measure of,’ he added thickly.

Saskia could feel her skin starting to quiver responsively where he was touching it. He slid his hands oh, so deliberately up her bare arm and over her shoulder, his fingertips caressing the nape of her neck. Blissfully she arched her spine, offering herself up to his touch, feeling the quiver-raising goosebumps on her skin moving deeper, growing stronger, as they became a pulse that echoed and then drove her heartbeat.

‘Kiss me, Andreas...’

Had she actually said that? Demanded it in that unfamiliar husky little voice that sounded so sexy and made Andreas’s eyes glitter even more hotly?

‘Oh, I can promise you that I’m going to do far more than just kiss you,’ Andreas assured her as his hands very deliberately removed the towel from her body. ‘Far, far more,’ he repeated sensually, before adding, ‘But if a kiss is what you want...’

His hands were spread against her collarbone and her throat, his thumbs massaging her fragile bones, his lips brushing just the merest tantalising breath of heat against the pulse that raced so frantically beneath her skin.

‘Where exactly is it you want me to kiss you, Saskia?’ he was asking her. ‘Here...? Here...? Here..?’

As his mouth moved tantalisingly over her throat and then her jaw, covering every inch of her face but her lips, Saskia heard herself start to moan softly with longing until, unable to endure any more of his delicious torment, she put her hand against his face and turned his mouth to hers, exhaling in a soft swoon of relief as she finally tasted the hard warmth she had been aching for.

‘Andreas... Andreas...’ She could hear herself whispering his name as she slid her fingers into his hair and clasped his head, probing the hard outline of his lips with small, frantic thrusts of her tongue-tip.