Mediterranean Seduction. Кэрол Мортимер
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sardonically.
Charlotte felt her face redden. ‘I stayed longer than I intended to down on the beach…and now I need to take a shower, if you will excuse me.’
‘Well, thank goodness you have returned safely,’ Marianna said. ‘I must be going, too—’
‘Oh, no,’ Charlotte exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks. ‘You don’t have to rush off.’
‘It is getting late,’ Marianna pointed out, looking Charlotte up and down with concern.
‘Perhaps Iannis will walk with you?’ Charlotte suggested hopefully.
‘It would be my pleasure,’ he agreed.
As Iannis and Marianna walked away from the villa together Charlotte felt the tension drain out of her. She’d had more than enough excitement for one evening.
But less than half an hour later Iannis was back.
‘Forgive me,’ he murmured, standing beneath the light on the porch as she opened the door. ‘There is something I forgot.’
‘Oh?’ Charlotte said faintly, backing up as he came towards her. ‘Can I find it for you?’
‘I have already found it,’ he said, closing the front door softly behind him.
‘I don’t understand…’ Charlotte felt her heart lurch as she watched a muscle work in his jaw, and then very slowly he eased away from the door.
‘Do you understand this, pedhaki mou?’ he murmured, reaching out for her.
Even after their closeness on the beach, coming from his lips the endearment was so unexpected Charlotte’s brow pleated fleetingly in bemusement. She had heard the Greek women crooning ‘little one’ to their children, but hearing it now from Iannis thrilled her—made her doubts seem foolish, made her feel safe, she realised as he dragged away the last barrier between them.
Iannis felt his senses surge to a level that could no longer be contained. Revenge—for all she had written about him, for her deception—would be sheer delight, he mused as he brushed his lips experimentally against Charlotte’s mouth and felt her soften. It would be the most intense erotic experience of his life. And she would enjoy it too. He’d make sure of that. And then she could ask herself where it had all gone wrong. He would fit a lifetime of pleasure into the few short hours she had left on the island—it would be some small compensation for what she had done.
He pulled back and allowed his gaze to rove over her. She was pulsing with desire, her lips already swollen and pink—as the rest of her would be before long. He took his time drawing her back into his arms, inch by lingering inch, relishing the sight of her eyes darkening and her nipples hardening until surely they must give her pain.
When a woman as beautiful as Charlotte Clare tried her hand at betrayal she must expect the penalty to be thoroughly and exhaustively exacted, Iannis mused, staring down at her. The only way he could think of to still his smile of victory was by dipping his head to part her lips with his tongue. She welcomed his possession so urgently he exulted. Sex between them was going to be even better than he had envisaged.
His hands were as firm as she had longed for them to be and her soft moans were becoming more urgent. She was all desire, all hot with longing, and with every other thought erased from her mind. This was what she needed, what she wanted—and Iannis wanted her, which made it complete.
‘Do you want me?’ Iannis murmured, holding her away from him to level a burning stare on her face. ‘Is this what you want, Charlotte? Tell me,’ he insisted harshly. ‘Let me hear you say it,’ he demanded fiercely.
‘If you want me to beg you will be disappointed,’ she warned, her eyes flashing fire. But even as she defied him Charlotte knew it was everything she had ever dreamed of and more. She gave a gasp of relief as he dragged her against him.
‘But you will beg,’ Iannis promised, running his hands lightly down her arms so that she trembled uncontrollably. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
‘We meet as equals, Iannis,’ Charlotte gasped as he swung her off her feet and into his arms, ‘or not at all.’
‘You are in no position to make conditions,’ he pointed out, moving deeper into the villa. ‘You said something about taking a shower…?’
His arrogance was astounding—but she was seduced by the effect it had on her, Charlotte realised as Iannis settled her into his arms.
Shouldering open the bathroom door, he set her down on the floor and then, strolling over to the shower, switched it on. ‘Take your clothes off, Charlotte,’ he instructed, turning to her, ‘and make it slow.’
Charlotte felt as if she was melting into a pool of desire. Her lips still stung from his possession, and her body, where his hands had touched, was throbbing with awareness. She was swollen, moist and ready for his possession, but as she went to attack the buttons on his shirt he seized her wrists.
‘Not so fast,’ he whispered harshly against her ear. ‘I want to see you naked first.’
Charlotte could hear her rapid breathing, noisy above the steady swish of the shower, and see Iannis clearly reflected in the mirror above the bath. His eyes were narrowed, his gaze predatory. Relaxing, yielding, easing into his grip, she waited, then tore her hands out of his grasp when he was least expecting it.
‘I said equal terms or not at all,’ she warned, raising one brow in furious challenge as she stared at him.
Iannis had to admit to a rush of pleasure—and not for the reason he had expected. She seemed so easy, so compliant, yet had already shown herself to be a formidable adversary—and in more ways than one, he remembered, tensing at the memory. But at least his conscience was clear. She was his equal in passion. She knew what she was doing. And so did he.
This time Iannis made no complaint when Charlotte raised her arms to undo his shirt. He made it easy for her to slip the tiny horn buttons free, and then offered his wrists so that she could release the buttons on his cuffs. Moving his arms away from his sides, he allowed her to ease the shirt from his trousers and had to stop himself smiling when she was forced to stand on tiptoes to slip it from his shoulders. As she did her breasts pressed against his naked chest, and even through her top he could feel the insistent thrust of her hardened nipples.
She heard the fast breath he sucked in and looked up in satisfaction. ‘Maybe you will be the one who has to beg,’ she said, raising her eyebrows, gently mocking him.
‘Hussy,’ Iannis murmured with pleasure as she went on about her task. He eased onto one hip and saw her glance stray to the buckle on his trousers. ‘Do you want some help?’ he offered huskily.
‘I think I’ll manage,’ Charlotte answered, keeping steady eye contact as she loosened the soft kidskin belt from its silver tine.
Her voice was contained, but her eyes, her breathing, everything about her told him different, Iannis thought, tensing as very slowly Charlotte began lowering the zip on his trousers. He had never allowed a woman to take charge before—and never felt so turned on before. Charlotte had turned the tables on him in a way he could never have anticipated. She eased the trousers down over his hips and he stepped out of them. As she dipped down to help him he saw her hair still tangled from the sea. It made her look so vulnerable, so terribly fragile.
Fragile, but dangerously strong-willed. He remembered just in time what she had done. It was that strength he was pitting himself against now, not her vulnerability.
He groaned, all rational thought obliterated as she slipped the fingers of each hand beneath the elastic of his briefs. It cut off his train of thought as effectively as if she had taken him in her mouth. But it felt great. She felt great, he realised, easing into the sensation.
Charlotte swallowed hard as she brought the black silk briefs down over Iannis’s lean hips. She had never seen a man so aroused before. She had never wanted a man like this before, she realised,