The Kiss She Claimed From The Greek

Achilles didn’t say a word on the way back to the house. Sofie’s brain buzzed as she tried to think of what he’d meant by his family being dead. The obvious, clearly—but had they all died at the same time? Parents? Siblings? Clearly it was traumatic, and he did not want to talk about it. And she was not in a position to question him. Not when she was here for just one more night.

She felt a pang near her heart at that thought.

She sneaked a glance at his granite-hard profile. It was unreadable. This man was hidden behind layers. A world away from the more approachable version of himself when he’d lost his memory. Then she felt guilty for comparing him to how he’d been before. This was who he was. Not that other man.

He might look remote, but she could feel the sizzle in the air and in her blood. Her hand was in his. Captured. She had no desire for him to free it.

One more night of this fantasy.

The car drew to a stop outside the house, and before the driver could open her door Achilles had got out and was there, holding out his hand again. She let him help her out. She was feeling breathless at the intensity he was exuding and she tried desperately to put out of her head all her questions about his family.

It didn’t matter. Achilles and his life were too big for her. They would have these few hours and then she would leave. Still in one piece.

Are you sure about that?

Her heart squeezed, as if to tell her that she’d become a lot more invested than she’d realised.

The front door to the house opened just as they reached it. Nothing as mundane as having to let himself in with a key for Achilles.

Sofie felt like giggling at the absurdity of it all. It was better than allowing herself to feel intimidated. But once they were in the dimly lit front hall and the staff member who had opened the door had melted away discreetly, Achilles turned to Sofie and she didn’t feel like giggling any more. She felt a sense of urgency.

They moved towards each other at the same time, Sofie’s arms reaching up and Achilles’s hands funnelling into her hair. Mouths meeting, tongues tangling.

Sofie felt herself being lifted against Achilles’s chest and then he was carrying her up the stairs to the bedroom, kicking open the door. Only putting her down by the bed. She was breathless, as if she’d been the one carrying him.

A couple of lamps were on, sending out golden haloes of light. Sofie barely noticed. Her hands itched to undress Achilles but she felt suddenly shy.

He shrugged off his jacket and it fell to the ground. He pulled apart his bow-tie and said, ‘Undress me, Sofie.’ As if he’d read her mind.

She lifted her hands to the buttons of his shirt, fingers clumsy as she moved down his chest, revealing the wide muscled expanse bit by torturous bit. She pushed apart the shirt and left her palms on his chest. It was warm and hard. Hair prickling her skin.

‘Keep going.’ His voice was rough.

Sofie’s pulse jumped and her blood went on fire. She dropped her hands and put them to his trousers. Undoing the button and then the zip. She could feel the heat of him through the material. She grazed the ridge of his erection with her fingers and he sucked in a breath. She looked up. He looked at if he was in pain.

She opened her mouth to ask if he was okay, but he put his hands over hers. ‘You’re going to kill me before we’ve even started.’

Sofie blushed. She couldn’t believe she had such an effect on a man like this. Especially after seeing him in his own habitat.

He finished opening his trousers and pushed them down off his hips, taking his underwear with them. He stood before her, naked and proud. Aroused. For her. It was enough to make her legs almost buckle.

Achilles put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. He pushed her hair over one shoulder and she felt him undo the clasp at the back of the collar. The dress loosened around her chest and Achilles peeled it away, so now she was bared from the waist up.

He came and stood behind her, brought his hands around to her chest, cupping her breasts and moulding them to fit in his big palms. Thumbs scraping her hard nipples. She moaned. She’d thought the other morning—had it only been this morning?—that on recovering his memory he would leave and she would never experience his hands on her again.

She wanted to imprint this onto her memory like a brand, so she would never forget how he made her feel. So desired, so beautiful. So extraordinary when she was nothing special. Just a girl from a small island in Scotland.

Feeling that sense of urgency again, afraid she might see signs of the dawn heralding the next day already, Sofie turned around, dislodging Achilles’s hands. She pressed close and reached up. ‘Achilles, make love to me.’

He found the side clasp of her dress and undid it, and it fell in a pool of silk to the floor. Now she only wore skimpy underwear and her shoes. Achilles gently pushed her back onto the bed and tugged her underwear down, slipped off her shoes.

Draped over the edge of the bed, Sofie felt very naked and very decadent as Achilles’s gaze moved over her. He took himself in his hand and started to stroke up and down. Sofie’s eyes widened on him. He was so unashamedly sexy. She wished she had the confidence to sit up and replace her hand with his—but before she could even think about doing it he was moving towards the bed and she couldn’t breathe.

She was about to move back a little on the bed when he said, ‘Stay there.’

He disappeared from her view for a moment and she felt him pushing her legs apart, his big body resting between her thighs. Hands shaping her waist, coming under her buttocks. And then his breath was there, feathering over her heated flesh. Sofie moaned softly. He pressed kisses up along one inner thigh and then he put his mouth to her, hot breath and devilish tongue. Exploring and teasing her aching flesh. A hand reached up and squeezed her breast, fingers trapping a nipple.

That was all it took to send Sofie flying over the edge, her whole body pulsating on the crescendo of an orgasm so intense that when Achilles moved and replaced his mouth with his erection, seating himself deep, Sofie climaxed again.

She looked up at Achilles, dazed. Drowning in pleasure. The expression on his face was intent as he moved in and out slowly, letting her get used to his body. He was big. Stretching her wide. But she wanted more already. Again.

He lifted her leg and his movements became more urgent, harder. Sofie embraced it and wrapped her other leg around his waist. ‘Achilles...’ she breathed, just needing to say his name. As if that could keep her anchored when every part of her was spinning wildly out of control.

Achilles’s big body tensed and jerked against Sofie’s. She could feel him deep inside, her legs stretched wide around his hips. And as his body released its own climax she responded with another spontaneous wave of pleasure, muscles contracting powerfully around his. An age-old dance that Sofie had no choice but to submit to.

For a long moment Achilles’s weight crushed her to the bed. She felt as if she never wanted to move again. But eventually he did. She winced a little when her muscles didn’t seem to want to release him. Everything in her wanted to cling to this moment.

He manoeuvred them onto the bed properly and drew a sheet over Sofie’s deeply sated body. She could barely move, and was asleep before she could notice that Achilles looked at her for a long time, before he got up, threw on some clothes and left the bedroom.