Ruthlessly Bedded, Forcibly Wedded. Эбби Грин
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desperately searched for and tightened on his shoulders. She had to anchor herself to something. And then, after a climb that seemed to be endless, suddenly she was held suspended at a height she’d never known existed. With a simple flick of Enzo’s thumb against her she fell down into a mass of spasming sensations, her whole body tightening and releasing. The pleasure was so exquisite she couldn’t believe she’d waited so long to experience it.
All those inane conversations she’d overheard for years finally made sense, she thought dreamily as she felt Enzo lift her onto the bed, her inner muscles still clenching. She sensed an urgency in his movements even though she wanted to curl up and go to sleep, with a delicious satedness thrumming through her blood.
Slumberously, Cara watched as Enzo reached somewhere and pulled out a foil packet, watched as he tore it open and smoothed the condom onto his erection—which looked even bigger. She was thankful he had thought of protection, because it was the most remote thing from her own mind and the lack of it wouldn’t have held her back in the slightest. Not when she could barely remember who she was any more.
He came alongside her and her belly quivered. Unbelievably Cara felt a deeper yearning surge through her, waking her body anew. Moments ago she’d been ready for sleep, but now desire was building again, deep in her core. More urgently. Somehow she knew instinctively that whatever she’d just experienced was nothing compared to what she was about to experience. The anticipation almost made her feel fearful. Could she withstand a more intense pleasure?
Her eyes grew huge as he smoothed a hand down her body, over the curves and tips of her breasts, making them tingle, crave his touch and mouth again. He was a mind-reader. He bent his head and his mouth unerringly found one pouting pink peak and closed over it. Cara gasped and held his head to her breasts with a desperate clasp. He moved his body until he was between her legs.
He lifted his head from her possessive hands. ‘Patience…’
He lifted her hips, angling her slightly, and nudged her legs farther apart with powerful hair-roughened thighs. Cara could feel his penis against the still slick and sensitive folds of her sex. Her body spasmed in response. Her belly tingled.
‘Tell me how much you want this,’ he demanded roughly, his voice sending Cara’s arousal into orbit. There was something so guttural about it…
‘Like I’ve never wanted anything else,’ she answered truthfully, a well of emotion rising within her. She knew now that she was here because she felt much more than just a physical connection with this man.
‘Tell me you need this,’ he said then, and with a subtle, tiny movement Cara felt him slide the head of his shaft into her. The intrusion was new and alien, yet at the same time somehow familiar. She had that weird feeling again of having lain with him before.
‘Oh…’
He slid in a little deeper. ‘Tell me,’ he demanded hoarsely.
Obeying some primal urge, Cara instinctively tilted her hips up, causing him to slide in a little more. She lifted her head. ‘I need this…I need you. Please Enzo…please.’
With a deep moan of intensely male satisfaction Enzo held Cara’s hips tilted, bent his head, and drew a nipple roughly into his mouth. As he did so he thrust into her, all the way, right to the hilt. Cara cried out, unable to help herself. She’d heard stories of pain, but all she felt was a pleasure so intense and pure that she could have wept.
Enzo drew back, a questioning frown on his face. ‘Did I hurt you?’
She shook her head fiercely and drew her hips back in a move that was completely instinctive, causing Enzo to withdraw slightly so he’d have to thrust in again.
‘No…I’ve just never felt like this before.’
As if he’d thought something, or been about to say something, his face cleared. He took control of her wanton hips and held them fast. Cara bit her lip as he thrust back in again, harder this time. And with each thrust, each movement against the tight, sensitive walls of her passage, she climbed higher and higher, leaving the previous peak she’d reached in the dust.
Enzo had called her a witch, but he was a wizard. Their skin was slick with sweat, and Cara begged brokenly as their movements became faster, more urgently desperate.
‘Please, Enzo…please.’
And then suddenly she was there. Her body tensed and tightened all over and she held her breath, eyes open wide as she looked up into his face. His cheekbones were slashed with red, his eyes glittering so darkly that she couldn’t read them. And then she fell, her muscles contracting and pulsating around his shaft as he drove in and out, his breath harsh and fast. Just as she was falling, seemingly never-endingly, Cara felt the shock of another peak approaching. And as Enzo’s movements stopped, and he tensed too, she found herself falling all over again, this time with him, as she felt the power of him burst free within her, his release awe-inspiring.
His weight was deliciously heavy on her. Cara’s legs were wrapped around him, her arms tight around his neck. She never wanted to let him go. The feeling of connection was so intense it was overwhelming. Their hearts hammered in tandem against their chests.
After long moments Enzo finally pulled free. He scooped them onto their sides, Cara against his front, and with an arm heavy around her middle Cara felt herself drift into a deep boneless and bottomless slumber, her arm tight around Enzo’s, holding him to her. For the first time in a long time she felt at peace. As if she’d come home from a long, arduous journey.
Vicenzo came to his senses slowly, and the world righted itself. His frantic heartbeat slowed back to a near normal pace. Reality came harshly, and with swift, painful clarity. He felt the seductive body clasped against him, felt the way his arm was wrapped around her so possessively, and tensed.
Blood roared to his brain at what had just happened—how far off base he’d come. How far off base he’d let her take him, as if he’d had no control over the situation. From the moment he’d met her in the bar and looked into those huge, duplicitous green eyes, flecked with darker tones making her seem mysterious, everything had shifted. One thing he hadn’t bargained on was this: that he’d want her on sight with a hunger that precluded anything else he’d ever felt in his life. It was shaming, shocking and all-consuming.
Acting on pure impulse, guided by something he couldn’t entirely fathom even now, he’d told her he was simply Enzo—had kept hidden his real identity. Her face had entranced him, despite his best intentions to remain unmoved by her: exquisitely pale, with its explosion of freckles making her look so young and innocent.
Vicenzo slammed down on his thoughts as he carefully extricated himself from Cara’s sleeping form. He remembered just moments ago, pulling himself free from her body’s tight clasp. Even that movement had caused a fresh ripple of arousal which he had had to ignore with all his might—especially when she’d moaned softly, as if in protest. Now, though, she didn’t wake.
He forced his thoughts away from the memory of what had just happened with cold ruthlessness. He’d wanted to see what she would do—to see the woman who had spent time with his sister, pretending to be her friend. Would she try to seduce him? His instincts had been proved right, and also the instinct to hold back, not to reveal himself. His justifications comforted him, even as he registered the unwelcome revelation that he hadn’t planned on going this far.
He reminded himself that he’d seen her in action before he’d even met her—draped over that barman when he’d entered the club, only to swiftly turn her attention to him as soon as he’d arrived. She’d just proved herself to be the consummate seducer. Full of innocent little tricks and ploys. For a moment there he’d had the fleetingly ridiculous thought that she might have been a virgin, but she’d quickly quashed that suspicion with her knowing response, taking him with a confidence that could only have been born of experience. He only had to look at how quickly she’d tumbled into his bed, with the merest artful hint of hesitation designed to rouse a man to the point of erotic anticipation.
The bile grew