Mediterranean Men Unleashed: The Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride. JACQUELINE BAIRD

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Mediterranean Men Unleashed: The Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride - JACQUELINE  BAIRD


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arching in spontaneous response as she offered herself up to the incredible pleasure only Anton could arouse. He suckled first one and then the other with a skill that drove her crazy with need and had her writhing in his hold.

      She felt her skirt slide to the floor, and suddenly he was swinging her up in his arms again and lowering her gently to the bed. She whimpered as he straightened up and looked down at her.

      ‘You have no idea how much I want you,’ he grated, his black eyes ablaze as he divested himself of his clothes in seconds.

      She stared at the wide tanned shoulders, the muscular, slightly hair-roughened chest, the strong hips, the powerful thighs and long legs. Totally naked and fully aroused he was almost frightening in his masculine beauty, and nervously she crossed her arms over her throbbing breasts.

      ‘Let me look at you,’ he growled and, leaning over her, he grasped the top of her minuscule lace briefs. ‘All of you.’ He slid them down her long legs and dropped them. Then his hands curled around her ankles and slowly stroked up her long legs tracing the curve of her hips, the indentation of her waist. She was trembling all over by the time he reached for her wrists and, unfolding her arms from her chest, pinned her hands either side of her body.

      ‘There is no need to pretend shyness,’ he husked. ‘You are exquisite, more than I ever dreamed of.’

      Excitement arced through her like an electric charge, her blue eyes as bright as sapphires as his dark eyes dropped to her breasts and lingered before roaming over her from head to toe once more. Emily had thought she might be embarrassed naked for the first time before Anton, but instead she was wildly excited, her slender body reacting heatedly to his intense scrutiny.

      ‘I can’t take my eyes off you, Emily, my wife. And soon to be my wife in every way.’ Taking protection from a bedside table, he lowered himself down beside her, his magnificent body sliding against her, flesh on flesh.

      What followed was so outside anything Emily had ever imagined it was unreal. The odd time she had imagined the act of love she had thought it would be some magical meeting of heart, body and soul, sweet, tender love reaching a joyous climax. But the violent emotions flooding through her were nothing like that.

      ‘You can touch me, Emily,’ he murmured, his dark eyes gleaming down into hers as his mouth covered hers. She reached for him in an almost desperate haste, the masculine scent of him, the sleek slide of his skin against hers, the devouring passion of his mouth igniting a white-hot heat inside her.

      With tentative hands she explored the width of his shoulders, the strong spine. She shuddered as his dark head lowered and found her pouting breasts once more. No longer tentative, but eager, she stroked up his back and raked her fingers through the black silken hair of his head, holding him to her. She groaned out loud as he lifted his head and moaned her delight as he found her mouth again. The sensuality of his kiss made her head spin and her body burn.

      She closed her eyes and savoured the slight masculine scent of him, and wreathed helplessly as his hands slid down the length of her body caressing, stroking and finally settling between her parted thighs.

      His long fingers found the moist, hot centre of her femininity and a low aching moan escaped her, and she wanted more, much more, her hips lifting, her whole body throbbing. She was helplessly in thrall to the wonder of his expertise and her own uninhibited response. She clutched desperately at him and looked up into his taut dark face, saw the black passion in his eyes and revelled in it.

      Wild and wanton, she caught his hair and pulled his head back to her mouth. She was panting with frustration and an incredible need to feel all of his long, hard body over her, in her, joined with hers. She groaned as he paused to slip on protection and then kissed her. The sensuous pressure of his lips, the thrusting of his tongue mimicking the sexual act and the fire in her blood turned her whole body into a flame of pure sensation. He settled between her thighs, and she cried his name, burning with a fever for more. His hands on her hips tightened and she arched up as he thrust home.

      Emily felt a stab of pain and winced. She saw the shock in his dark eyes as he stilled and began to withdraw. But she could not let him go, not now as the thick fullness of him made her inner muscles clench, and instinctively she locked her legs around his waist, slid her arms around his back. ‘Please. Please, I want you. I love you.’

      She heard the sharp intake of his breath, felt the heavy beating of his heart and the tension in every muscle of his body. Then he moved, slowly thrusting a little deeper, and then withdrawing and sliding deeper still.

      Miraculously her silken sheath stretched to accommodate him, and Emily was lost to everything except the pure physical wonder of his possession. The indescribable sensations beating through her, the sleek skin beneath her fingers, and the heated scent of two bodies joined. The wonder as in seconds she matched the rhythm he set, driving her ever higher to some unknown destination she ached … was dying for.

      Her nails dug deep into his satin-smooth skin as great waves of ecstasy rippled through her and then roared as he thrust hard and fast and she cried out as her body convulsed in exquisite rapture, and she was flung into a hot, mindless oblivion. She heard Anton groan, and she forced her eyes open and felt his great body buck and shudder with the force of his own release.

      Loosely she wrapped her arms around him as he buried his head on her shoulder. The heavy pounding of his heart against hers and his weight were a solid reminder of the power and passion, the love he had given her. A soft smile curved her lips. Anton truly was her husband.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      EMILY had never imagined such ecstasy existed, and as the rippling aftermath of pleasure receded and her breathing steadied a beauteous smile curved her swollen lips. She savoured the weight of Anton lying over her, the heavy pounding of his heart against hers.

      ‘I am too heavy,’ he rasped.

      ‘No, perfect,’ she murmured and felt the warmth of Anton’s breath against her throat as he rolled off her.

      Her blue eyes misty, she watched him walk to the bathroom, and return moments later, his great body bronzed and glistening with beads of perspiration. ‘Come back to bed.’

      He lay down beside her, supporting himself on one elbow, his dark eyes searching hers. ‘Anton.’ She lifted a hand to brush the damp fall of hair from his brow. ‘I never knew love could be so …’ She was lost for words except to say, ‘I love you.’ She couldn’t stop saying it. ‘I love everything about you.’ Her finger traced the line of his cheekbone, his strong chin shadowed with dark stubble. She sighed. He was so magnificent … so perfect … and incredibly she felt slow-building warmth once again in her slender body.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?’ He shook his head, and her hand slipped to his broad shoulder, relishing the feel of his smooth skin beneath her fingers.

      ‘Does it matter? We are truly married now,’ she said, but her smile faded a little as she looked into his eyes. They were no longer gleaming with desire, but narrowed in angry puzzlement on her face.

      ‘But you were engaged to be married once before. How could it be?’

      Emily was surprised and intrigued. How did Anton know she had been engaged before? She was sure she had never told him, and without a second thought she asked him.

      ‘Someone must have mentioned it,’ he dismissed, and she had the oddest notion he was avoiding a direct answer. ‘But that is not important; you should have told me I was your first.’

      ‘Why? Would you have refused to make love to me if I had?’ she teased, and stroked a slender finger down his chest. Slowly, sensually …

      ‘Yes … No … But I could have been more careful if I had known.’

      She lifted both her hands and ran her fingers through his black hair, holding his head firmly between her palms. Her blue eyes were sparkling with devilment. ‘Well, you can be careful the next time.’ And pulled his head down, wanting to kiss him.

      She


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