He labored to catch his breath and she exulted in the tightening of his muscles, his thighs becoming rock hard as he thrust deep within her, the ride becoming wild. She heard her own voice crying uncontrollably for him to come…
And the animal roar in response, rising from deep in his chest, when he finally went taut, lifting her up off the bed as he strove for release, filling her to the hilt as he spilled himself in great racking spasms, making her almost scream with pleasure as wave after wave of rapturous release swept over her—her own following his, pulsating through them both, melting her around him.
The afterglow of triumph buoyed Abby. She hauled herself upright and watched lovingly as Dante’s body slumped against the pillows, utterly spent. Victory felt astonishing. One heady taste of control and she was hooked.Her body still thrummed with pleasure— pleasure she’d taken, not received. The word “submit” was banned with relish from her vocabulary forever. Now they would be about equality.
“You’d best go shower or we’ll be late for lunch.”
His cool tone and dismissive words chased away her contentment. When she didn’t move and remained sitting atop him, too stunned to speak, he added, “If you’re not going first, I will.”
He lifted her off him and laid her on the cool sheets. He still hadn’t looked at her.
As he headed toward the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, “That was most enjoyable. I hope you’re in the middle of your cycle or you’re unlikely to get pregnant.”
Victory crumbled under his cruel indifference. How could he not be moved by what they had just experienced? Their joining had been better and more fulfilling than ever before.
Her eyes welled with tears. It would seem she had won a victory but not the war. Perhaps women taking initiative was something most of Dante’s previous lovers did. What they had shared was nothing special to him—only to her. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t been a virgin when she’d married Dante. She would at least have something to compare their lovemaking to. He had an unfair advantage, which he used with ruthless intent.
“It’s not fair,” she mumbled under her breath. She angrily swiped the tears from her cheeks. She’d die before she’d let him see how much his callous disinterest hurt.
Abby took a deep breath and told herself to toughen up. If she was to survive their deal, she couldn’t fall to pieces every time he snapped at her and pushed her away.
She was now hisfor better or worse. She stood up, squared her shoulders, and headed toward the bathroom. She sure as hell was going to ensure it was for the better.
Chapter 8
Dante’s hand shook as he reached for the shower tap. His fingers fumbled to turn the jets on to full. He couldn’t get his breathing under control. Each breath sent pain slicing through his chest and he welcomed the hurt.
He deserved it. The look on her face…
He gulped back a curse. Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the anguish that had filled her beautiful features when he’d coldly moved her off him, as if what they had just shared was nothing but meaningless sex.
He stepped into the shower, wanting the water to wash him clean. He’d just cheapened an exquisite experience and more than anything he wished he could take it back.
She’d sat magnificently above him, her face a mask of serene contentment. He’d seen the dreamy look of love creep into her eyes. He’d had to fight the overwhelming urge to pull Abby into his arms and declare his feelings for her. To beg her forgiveness for making her run away, and, worse, his cowardice for not following her and begging her to come back to him.
He may be a bastard but he was not self-centered enoughto make Abby fall in love with him all over again when he was unsure what the future held. Or if he even had a future.
Her newfound maturity stirred him harder and faster than the first time he’d met her. Their lovemaking this afternoon was more exhilarating—intoxicating—than…there was nothing else to compare it to. No one else to compare it to. And that petrified him. Any more and he’d be hard-pressed to conceal his heart from her. For the first time in many years, he doubted himself. Getting Abby with child was becoming a dangerous pastime.
He picked up the soap and cleared his mind, refusing to fantasize about the woman who lay naked in the next room. He called on all his willpower to stop himself from turning off the shower and striding back to the bed and loving her for the rest of the afternoon—his family be damned.
“Is there room for two or are you finished?”
Normally they would have been the sweetest words he’d ever heard, but instead they made his mouth clamp shut. The bathroom held a large, three-sided walk-in shower, with tiles on two sides and glass on the third. There was no way he could stop her from stepping in behind him. Close behind him. Too close.
“Don’t worry, I’m not about to pounce on you. I might not have had sex for a few years, but I’m sure I can resist even the legendary lover, Dante Lombardi.”
He heard her turn the second showerhead on.
“In fact, the last thing I fancy right now is you anywhere near me, so I’ll turn the water to ice cold. It might relieve your condition.” She gave a triumphant laugh.
The need to defend himself overtook his brain, and his mouth opened. “Since you deserted me, excuse me if my body is not used to seeing a naked woman in my bathroom.”
She didn’t reply. She simply looked at him with a smug, seductive curl on her lips.
The male in him reacted. He turned to fully face her, nolonger hiding his rampant erection. “If I wanted you again, I’d have you begging me to take you within a few minutes. I know every inch of your skin. I know exactly how to make your body break into song.” He turned off the tap. “Fortunately, I’m more concerned with having lunch in time to ensure we meet your grandmother’s arrival.”
A tide of scorching heat flooded her cheeks and she briefly looked away. He watched her shoulders slump.
