The Greek Tycoon's Pregnant Wife

But right now that didn’t seem half as important as it should, and when he said, ‘Ah, mora,’ right against her mouth, her lips parted on a breath of submission. And then his tongue was in her mouth, sweeping intimately over hers, taking possession with a hunger that was far too appealing.

Demetri trailed his lips across her cheek, savouring the lingering taste of her tears. Her skin was soft, smooth, endlessly fascinating, and he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close against him.

Sanity seemed to have deserted him. The reasons why he’d come here blurred by the depth of his sudden desire. His hand found the cord of her robe, loosened it, allowed the sides to fall apart. Then he was gazing at full round breasts, their peaks as hard in the flesh as they’d looked outlined beneath the silk.

With heavy-lidded eyes he watched himself cup one swollen globe in his hand, let his thumb rub over the sensitive nipple with an urgency that bordered on violence, and he swore. ‘Skata, Jane,’ he groaned, suspecting even then that he was going to regret this. But, Theos, she was where he wanted her to be, nestled against him, causing him a hard-on that was in danger of giving him a heart attack if he didn’t relieve the pressure soon.

Jane swayed, her own emotions rushing dangerously close to meltdown. She couldn’t let him do this, she told herself. She had to get away from him. But when she moaned into his mouth, Demetri sensed she wanted him to go on.

Her robe was off her shoulders now, and, when he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the adjoining bedroom, she felt it slip away onto the floor. Then she was on her back on the bed that was still warm from when she’d left it. Demetri was tearing off his jacket and T-shirt, exposing the muscled strength of his hard brown flesh to her distracted gaze.

He came down beside her, straddling her body with powerful thighs, the revealing bulge of his erection tenting the suddenly tight crotch of his trousers. ‘Demetri,’ she breathed weakly, half in protest, and for an answer he bent and took one straining nipple into his mouth.

It was too much. Jane couldn’t fight him any more. With Demetri suckling her breast, she was already throbbing with the need for him to touch her in other, wetter, places. She wanted to reach out and stroke him, to trace the line of soft hair that disappeared into his waistband. But when she reached for his zip, he stopped her.

‘Soon, agapi mou,’ he said, shifting back so he could unfasten his trousers and tug them off. ‘Just not too soon, hmm?’

If he’d been wearing any underwear, it disappeared along with his trousers and Jane could see his manhood rearing proudly from its nest of dark hair. Then he parted her legs and lowered his head, laving her with his tongue until he had her twisting and turning beneath him.

‘Theos, you taste so sweet,’ he muttered thickly. ‘Shall I make you come?’

‘Not—not without you,’ she said, her voice unsteady, yet not too wrapped up in her own needs not to know she wanted him inside her when she climaxed.

‘Iseh etimi,’ he groaned. Are you ready? And with one swift, hard lunge he thrust into her, his thick length stretching her and filling her so completely that she let out a breathless cry. Then, with his body hair brushing her thighs, he expelled a hoarse breath. ‘You’re so tight. Did I hurt you?’

‘I’m OK,’ she assured him huskily, her muscles quickening automatically about him. ‘Just—just do it, Demetri. Don’t—wait…’

As if he could, thought Demetri grimly. It was hard enough to control the urge he had to slam himself into her until it was done. Only the desire to savour the moment had him rocking back on his heels, looking down at the point where their bodies were joined so completely. However crazy this might be, he’d never wanted her more than he did right now.

‘Demetri,’ she protested weakly, and with a groan he pushed into her again. She closed about him, slick and tight, and the driving need for satisfaction blanked his mind.

‘Ineh ereos,’ he said thickly. You’re beautiful. Then rocking back again, ‘Theos, I don’t want this to end.’

‘Me neither,’ she confessed, but that didn’t stop her from lifting her legs to wind them about his hips. Then he felt the convulsion as she lost control and holding back became academic.

Her liquid heat drenched him, more than enough to send him over the edge. He moaned as the force of his release spilled from him. Shuddering with mindless pleasure, he emptied himself into her, and then slumped across her body in a total state of abandon.

Demetri opened his eyes to the sound of a shower running. For a moment he stared up at the ceiling above his head, seeing nothing familiar in its papered surface, sure he’d never seen a ceiling in that particular shade of peach before.

Then his eyes lowered to the windows, tall casement windows, shaded by ruched Roman blinds in a contrasting shade of lime green. The blinds were drawn against the daylight that was visible in a line above the sill.

Totally unfamiliar.

Yet suddenly totally recognisable.

Demetri sucked in a jagged breath, pushed himself into an upright position and looked about the room with unbelieving eyes. God, he was in Jane’s apartment, Jane’s bed! What in hell had he been thinking of? He’d come here to ask her for a divorce, not to have sex with her, for pity’s sake.

He closed his eyes again, hoping against hope that it was all some crazy dream, that when he opened them again he’d be back in his own bedroom in Kalithi, with the sound of the Mediterranean a gentle murmur in his ears.

But it wasn’t to be. When he lifted his lids for a second time, it was to find he was still occupying Jane’s bed, a single sheet, which he suspected she’d thrown over him, covering him from hip to thigh.

Which was just as well, he reflected, conscious that an awareness of his surroundings had done nothing to quell an arousal that was as vigorous as it was inappropriate. Hristo, he was supposed to be thinking of a way to get out of this with his dignity intact, not allowing his mind to wander into the bathroom and the delights of sharing Jane’s shower.

Forcing himself to get out of bed, he groped for his boxers and pulled them on. Then, without giving himself time to think, he tugged his T-shirt over his head and stepped into his trousers, only cursing when he hurt himself fastening his zip.

The shower ceased abruptly, and, although he was tempted to wait and see what she’d be wearing when she came out of the bathroom, common sense had him snatching up his shoes and jacket and letting himself out of the bedroom before he made another mistake.

In the living room, he pushed his feet into his loafers and pulled on his jacket. Then he combed slightly unsteady fingers through his hair. Theos, he thought, looking about him, how had it happened? How had a simple conversation turned into a sensual assault on his senses?

Why had he been fool enough to go in there? Why hadn’t he waited until she’d composed herself and then completed the interview with speed and objectivity? It was what she’d said she wanted, for heaven’s sake. And when she’d first quit the room, he’d assumed she’d gone to get dressed and nothing else. It was only as the minutes had slipped by and there’d been no sound from the bedroom that he’d become suspicious.

Anxious, even, he conceded wryly. Jane had always been able to do that to him. In the three years they’d been together, he’d lost count of the number of occasions when she’d walked out on him. The fact was, he’d usually gone after her, desperate to assure himself that she was all right. Just like today.

He sighed. Even so, finding her in tears like that shouldn’t have affected him as much as it had. It wasn’t his fault they weren’t still together, and if him asking for a divorce meant that much to her, why hadn’t she tried to see him again before the situation had deteriorated as badly as it had?

None of it made any sense, not least the pleasure he’d gained from making love to her just now. He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t enjoyed himself so much since the last time they’d been together.

Having sex with other women had never done it for him. And, although when Jane had left him he’d told himself it would be easy enough to replace her, he never had. He’d lost count of the number of women his mother had paraded in front of him, hoping to persuade him that remaining single wasn’t an option for him. But his marriage to Jane had spoiled him for other woman, and he’d begun to believe that whatever happened he would never have that kind of sexual satisfaction again.

But now he had.

With her!

Although he’d sat down on the sofa to put on his shoes, now he got to his feet again. He couldn’t sit still, not when his whole world was in turmoil. This was supposed to have been a short meeting, the courtesy of telling her himself instead of allowing her to learn the truth from his London solicitor. Instead, as his mother had feared, he’d allowed her to get under his skin, again.

He paced across to the windows, peering out at his limousine, parked at the front of the house. The chauffeur, who worked for Souvakis International, would be wondering what he was doing. But he knew better than to make any comments to his employer or anyone else.

The sound of a door opening behind him had him swinging round almost guiltily. Another sensation that was new to him. It occurred to him then that perhaps he ought to have left before she’d finished her shower. In spite of the fact that they hadn’t finished their discussion, it could have waited until tomorrow or the next day. Now it was too late.

Jane came into the room rather tentatively. She’d taken the time to dry and straighten her hair and now it hung silky smooth to her shoulders. She’d put on a dark green T-shirt that clung to her breasts, and low-rise jeans exposed a delicate wedge of creamy pale skin.

She looked just as good to him now as she’d done before, thought Demetri grimly. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have wondered if she’d worn the outfit deliberately to emphasise her eyes. She certainly looked tantalising, but her expression wasn’t encouraging. Her eyes were guarded, cold, watching him with a wariness that bordered on contempt.

‘You’re still here,’ she said, when he didn’t speak. Then, making her way across the room, ‘D’you want coffee?’

Coffee?

Demetri didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. Only minutes before she’d been writhing beneath him, and now she was offering him coffee, as if they’d just been passing the time of day instead of having hot, sweaty sex.

‘Efkharisto, then thelo.’ Not for me, thank you. Demetri spoke tersely, following her across the room to where a small counter separated an equally small service kitchen from the rest of the room. He hesitated, and then added unwillingly, ‘You are OK?’

Jane turned from filling a filter with coffee. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ she countered, though this time he noticed she broke their gaze. ‘Go and sit down. I won’t be long.’

‘I’d rather not.’ Demetri took a deep breath. ‘Are we going to talk about this?’

Jane concentrated on setting the jug on the hotplate. Then, when it was placed to her satisfaction, she opened a cupboard above her head and took down a porcelain mug. Glancing fleetingly in his direction, the mug in her hand, she said, ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?’

‘I’m sure.’ Demetri could feel impatience digging away at his good nature. What the hell was she trying to do? Pretend it had never happened? ‘Jane, look at me,’ he said sharply. ‘No, not like that. Really look at me. What are you thinking? Tell me!’