The Greek's Pregnant Cinderella

She swayed again, legs visibly trembling, the fingers on his head digging in harder.

Rising, he shuffled her back until the back of her legs touched the bed.

Chest rising and falling rapidly, hands still reaching for him, she sat.

His arousal had become too painful to endure a moment longer and, not tearing his eyes from hers, he quickly undid his trousers and pushed them down his hips.

Tabitha gazed at the first erection she had ever seen in the flesh and her pelvis contracted all over again.

Her mouth full of moisture, heart thumping painfully, her gaze drifted over the rest of him.

Giannis was beautiful.

His tall frame was broader and far more muscular than she’d imagined—and she had imagined it, in many unbidden moments when the only thing she’d needed to use her brain for was changing bed sheets. Only a small line of hair covered his chest, starting from just above his abdomen, but thickened and darkened considerably at the area where his huge length jutted out proudly.

She felt too intoxicated with all the heat swirling like a furnace inside her to be scared.

Never in her life had she craved something as much as she craved Giannis in this moment. There was something about him that sang to her on a fundamental level she had no chance of understanding so she did the only thing she could do and embraced it.

When he’d divested himself of the rest of his clothing and joined her on the bed, pushing her down so she was flat on her back, she opened her arms to him.

His lips found hers in another crushing kiss and then he was exploring her, using his hands and mouth to cover her body, setting fire to her skin, melting her bones.

He lavished attention on breasts she had never suspected could be so sensitive and yet so receptive. He kissed her belly button, he kissed her sides...and then he tugged her knickers down and kissed her right in the core of her womanhood.

At the first touch of his tongue on her swollen nub she jerked wildly, sensation shooting through her.

Dear God...

One hand grasped his head, the other reaching up to grab a pillow.

Pleasure pooled thick and heavy deep within her and she instinctively lifted her bottom; instinctive, as the action came not from her brain.

Her brain had ceased to function on anything but a primitive level.

Her body had ceased to function on anything but a primitive level.

The only coherent thought in her head was Giannis’s name playing like a distant echo.

Only when he’d snaked his way back up her body, sheathed himself deftly and his mouth hovered over hers for another kiss, his hips lodged between her parted legs, his arousal hard at the top of her thigh, did she get the coherence to gasp, ‘Please be gentle.’

The lips that had been about to claim hers reared back, a question forming in the crease of his brow.

Suddenly afraid that the truth would put an abrupt end to this most magical of moments, she hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down to mould her mouth to his.

He kissed her back hungrily and shifted his hips so his erection was right where it needed to be.

And then he slid inside her damp heat. Slowly, deliberately slowly, stretching her, giving her the time to adjust and accommodate...

Her eyes flew open as a sharp pain seared through her, fleeting then dissolving...

And then she dissolved.

Her bones softened, her hips arched, she scraped her fingers into his head and parted her lips as he drove into her, the pleasure so intense that all she could do was cling to him and let him move inside her with long strokes, every thrust increasing the sensation, every groan from his lips against her ear feeding it.

He filled her completely. Perfectly.

A large hand skimmed roughly down her side and reached under her bottom, lifting her so their groins ground together, heightening the pleasure to a level that turned her into a mass of nerve endings.

Faster and harder he thrust into her, and faster and harder her hips bucked back, and all the while the sensation that had started life deep inside her spread until, without any warning, pleasure ripped through her, so intense that colour brighter and more explosive than any firework filled her.

It must have been enough to tip Giannis over the edge too for the fingers still holding her bottom clamped tightly on her flesh and his huge body tensed then shuddered.

Long moments later, he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily in her ear.

It took a long while for Tabitha’s world to right itself and for her heart to regain something that resembled a normal rhythm.

A delicious lethargy came over her. Her eyes closed and the world drifted away.

* * *

The sound of a door closing woke Tabitha with a start.

She sat bolt upright, horrified to find dusky light pouring through the bedroom window.

She looked at her watch and saw the time was six a.m.

No, no, no.

She was due to start work in an hour.

She strained her ears and heard the sound of a coffee machine working.

Giannis must be in the kitchen.

How long did she have to escape?

She cursed herself and tried her hardest to breathe but panic had set in.

Clutching her fuzzy head, she darted her gaze around the room, looking for her dress.

It was draped on the arm chair in the corner. Giannis must have put it there.

She swallowed back a surge of nausea and cursed herself again.

Stupid, idiotic, fool!

Bad enough she’d got so carried away with the romance of the evening and the undeniable yet fatal attraction that had sparked to life between her and Giannis to sleep with him in the first place, but to stay the whole night?