Modern Romance Collection: November 2017 Books 1 - 4. Julia James
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the pillow as he worked sweet magic with his tongue, loving the way he imprisoned her wriggling hips with the firm clamp of his hands. She came so quickly that it took her by surprise—as did the sudden way he moved over her to thrust deep inside her, while her body was still racked with those delicious spasms. She clung to his shoulders as he started a sweet, sure rhythm which set senses singing.
But suddenly his face hardened as he grew still inside her. ‘How long do you think I can stop myself from coming?’ he husked.
‘Do you...?’ She could barely get the words out when he was filling her like this. ‘Do you have to stop yourself?’
‘That depends. I do if you’re going to have a second orgasm, which is my intention,’ he murmured. ‘In fact, I’m planning to make you come so often that you’ll have lost count by the morning.’
‘Oh, Matteo.’ She closed her eyes as he levered himself to his knees and went even deeper.
She moaned as the finger moved between their joined bodies to alight on the tight nub between her legs and began to rub against her while he was deep inside her. The pleasure it gave her was almost too much to bear and it felt as if she were going to come apart at the seams. She gasped as pleasure and pressure combined in an unstoppable force. Until everything splintered around her. She heard him groan as his own body starting to convulse before eventually collapsing on top of her, his head resting on her shoulder and his shuddered breath hot and rapid against her neck.
His arms tightened around her waist and for countless seconds Keira felt as if she were floating on a cloud. Had he really told her he hadn’t slept with anyone else because he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind? Yes, he had. With a sigh of satisfaction, she rested her cheek against his shoulder and he murmured something soft in Italian in response.
She lay there for a long time after he’d fallen asleep, thinking that sex could blind you to the truth. Or maybe lull you into such a stupefied state that you stopped seeking the truth. He’d commented on her curves and admired them with his hands, but he’d made no mention of why her body had undergone such a dramatic transformation. She bit her lip. Because she’d carried his son and given birth to him—a fact he seemed to find all too easy to forget.
And she thought how—despite the heart-stopping intimacy of what had just taken place—she still didn’t know Matteo at all.
SHE HAD TO say something. She had to. She couldn’t keep pretending nothing was wrong or that there weren’t still a million questions buzzing around in her head which needed answering.
Keira turned her head to look at the face of the man who lay sleeping beside her. It was a very big bed, which was probably a good thing since Matteo Valenti’s naked body was taking up most of it. Morning light flooded in from the two windows they hadn’t bothered closing the shutters on before they’d tumbled into bed the night before. From here she could see the green of the landscape which spread far into the distance and, above it, the endless blue of the cloudless sky. It was the most perfect of mornings, following the most perfect of nights.
She hugged her arms around herself and gave a wriggle of satisfaction. She’d never thought she could feel the way Matteo had made her feel. But the clock was ticking away and she needed to face reality. She couldn’t keep pretending everything was wonderful just because they’d spent an amazing night together. He’d said he wanted to explore the possibility of them becoming a couple but there was more to being a couple than amazing sex. How could they keep ignoring the gaping hole at the centre of their relationship which neither of them had addressed? He for reasons unknown and she...
She turned her attention from the distraction of the view to the dark head which lay sleeping beside her. Was she too scared to ask him, was that it?
Because the most important thing was all out of kilter and the longer it went on, the worse it seemed. Matteo acted as if Santino didn’t exist. As if he didn’t have a son. To her certain knowledge, he’d never even cuddled him—why, he’d barely even asked after him.
It didn’t matter how many boxes the Italian ticked—she could never subject Santino to a life in which he was overlooked. And trying to compensate for his father’s lack of regard with her own fierce love wouldn’t work. She’d grown up in a house where she had been regarded as an imposition and no way was she going to impose that on her darling son.
Which left her with two choices. She could carry on being an ostrich and ignore what was happening—or rather, what wasn’t happening. Or she could address the subject when Matteo woke and make him talk about it. She wouldn’t accuse him or judge him. Whatever he told her, she would try to understand—because something told her that was very important.
Quietly, she slipped from the bed and went to the bathroom and when she returned with brushed teeth and hair, Matteo was awake—his black gaze following her as she walked back towards the bed.
‘Morning,’ she said shyly.
‘Is this the point where I ask whether you slept well and you lower your eyelids and say, not really?’ he murmured.
Blushing like a schoolgirl, Keira slipped rapidly beneath the covers so that her naked body was no longer in the spotlight of that disturbingly erotic stare. It was all very well being uninhibited when the room was in darkness but the bright morning light was making her feel awfully vulnerable. Especially as she sensed that Matteo wasn’t going to like what she had to say, no matter how carefully she asked the question. He drew her into his arms but she gave him only the briefest of kisses before pulling her lips away. Because he needed to hear this, and the sooner, the better.
‘Matteo,’ she said, rubbing the tip of her finger over the shadowed angle of his jaw.
His brows knitted together. ‘Why does my heart sink when you say my name that way?’ he questioned softly.
She swallowed. ‘You know we have to go back to Umbria soon.’
‘You think I’d forgotten? Which is why I suggest we don’t waste any of the time we have left.’
He had begun to stroke a light thumb over one of her nipples and although it puckered obediently beneath his touch, Keira pushed his hand away. ‘And we need to talk,’ she said firmly.
‘And that was why my heart sank,’ he drawled, shifting his body to lie against the bank of pillows and fixing her with a hooded look. ‘Why do women always want to talk instead of making love?’
‘Usually because something needs to be said.’ She pulled in a breath. ‘I want to tell you about when I was growing up.’
The look on his face said it all. Wrong place; wrong time. ‘I met your aunt,’ he said impatiently. ‘Over-strict guardian, small house, jealous cousin. I get it. You didn’t have such a great time.’
Keira shook her head as uncomfortable thoughts flooded into her mind. She needed to be completely honest, else how could she expect complete honesty in return? Yet what she was about to tell him wasn’t easy. She’d never told anyone the full story. Even her aunt. Especially her aunt. ‘I told you my mother wasn’t married and that I didn’t know my father. What I didn’t tell you was that she didn’t know him either.’
His gaze was watchful now. ‘What are you talking about?’
Keira flushed to the roots of her hair because she could remember her mother’s shame when she’d finally blurted out the story, no longer able to evade the curious questions of her young daughter. Would her mother be appalled if she knew that Keira was now repeating the sorry tale, to a man with a trace of steel running through his veins?
‘My mother was a student nurse,’ she said slowly, ‘who came to London and found it was nothing like the rural farm she’d grown up on in Ireland. She was quite shy and very naïve but she had those Irish looks. You know, black hair and blue eyes—’
‘Like