“That’s okay,” she said.
Massimo shuddered with a surge of possession that overtook all other thoughts. Last time the broken condom had been a mistake, but right now, he was suddenly gripped with the thought that he could throw all this uncertainty away and make her his. This time for sure. And though the idea of a baby rattled him to his core, he suddenly wanted this irrevocable bond between them more than he feared the consequences. It defied every last rational thought.
But then she was lowering herself to her knees, and he realized that she had an entirely different idea in mind. Not sex without a condom. Not giving in to the voice that thunderedmineinside him. But before his mind could fully register his own shocking reaction, she had made quick work of his belt and pants, and now her slim fingers fumbled with the last layer between his length and her mouth. If he were a better man, maybe he would have resisted the mix of lust and innocence in her eyes. It made him wonder if he would survive this with his sanity intact, but he didn’t stop her.
Catarina took him out. She looked up at him through dark lashes, then back at his thick length.Dio, this was too much for any man to resist. Her lips parted, and she tasted him. Pleasure rippled through his body, but he gritted his teeth, letting her explore. Then, finally, she took him into her mouth. He let out a deep groan. Her hands searched, inexperienced, and he moved them, showing her how to hold him, guiding her fingers to the places that brought him most pleasure. She eagerly followed his lead, then continued with new explorations that were all her own, leaving him shuddering on the brink of bliss. She took him deeper, deeper, as he slowly lost his mind. His hands came to her hair, and she eagerly pleasured him until he couldn’t hold back. The ecstasy came on so quickly he almost missed warning her, but when he bit it out, she didn’t back away. She took him in one more deep stroke, and he released, calling her name.
Massimo collapsed against the wall as aftershocks racked his body. In his haze of bliss, she stroked him gently, then straightened his clothes, caring for him with a tenderness that was heartbreaking. Then he found himself on his knees, too, easing her onto her back on the soft rug at the base of the steps. He moved her silken panties off her lovely hips, moved between her knees and worshipped her. He worshipped her until she was panting, then moaning, then finally calling out his name. She moved and shook and came, and he drew out every ounce of pleasure with the slow caresses of his mouth. He felt a surge of satisfaction in her pleasure. Time had stopped. Nothing mattered except this moment.
She blinked once, twice, as if falling back into reality, then lifted herself to her elbows and looked at him. Her eyes were unfocused, half-lidded with drunken pleasure. The thrum of the wordminepulsed through him, threatening to overtake everything else. He wanted to carry her to the bedroom and discover all the uncharted pleasure he was only beginning to imagine between them. He needed to share a bed with this woman every single night. And then another image came to him, unbidden: This was the woman whose belly could grow round with a baby. His baby. The unsettling idea hit him, shaking him with the feeling that he refused to identify this time. Still, he couldn’t now unthink the picture in his mind of Catarina pregnant, nor could he forget the word that continued through the murky cloud of his thoughts:mine.
He shoved this word deep down inside as he gathered the last threads of his self-control.
“We will marry,” he said, and he was relieved to hear the hard, implacable edge to his voice.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s kind of cute you still think this method of persuasion will work on me.”
The sarcasm in her voice was cutting.
“We have to,” he insisted, but it came out more like a plea.
“Why?” Her voice was softer now. “You have heard me say I don’t want this path. Why do you keep insisting?”
Massimo swiped a hand over his face, trying to control this rush of emotions that threatened to destabilize him. How did he explain the harm his parents’ lives had infused in every part of his for far too long? He didn’t have the strength for that, not now. So he fought for control over the hurt and need and leveled her with his gaze. “Be ready to leave when the helicopter lands.”
Catarina sat on the soft red rug in the great room, her body alive with the pleasure that still pulsed through her. He had given in to the temptation of her kiss quickly and eagerly, and so had she. Tasting his hard length, so erotically tempting, and the intense satisfaction in Massimo’s gaze as he’d pleasured her, had tipped her over the edge into bliss. The heat between them was undeniable, but she was no longer sure if she had wielded it or if this electric connection had taken on a life of its own. After playing the scene over a few times in her head, she found herself thinking about the moment when she had answered Massimo’s comment about the condom. The look on his face had been so strange and wondrous, and she might have written it off as excitement about the prospect of the pleasure she was offering, except that it changed when she got to her knees. He looked almost…disappointed? In that moment, she had had the strangest feeling that he hadwantedsex without condoms. That he had wanted the possibility of a baby.
This defied all her assumptions. Up until that moment, she had assumed that he saw the possibility of a baby as an unfortunate outcome of their actions, an assumption backed by the evidence of his cold declarations about illegitimate children and the duty to his family name. But the glow in his eyes made her wonder if she had missed something important.
Slowly, she got to her feet. Her knees were still weak. Her whole body was weak. But as she started up the steps, Massimo appeared on the landing. He was fully dressed, as if he had just emerged from a business meeting and not from the abyss of sex. His chiseled jaw and sharp cheekbones looked even more sculpted in the morning light. He looked like the man she had seen in her father’s library, a hard, exacting man who used his authority ruthlessly, so far from the man who had looked at her with overwhelming hunger. And yet, his full lips taunted her, reminders of the pleasure they could bring. Catarina crossed her arms, unwilling to expose the path of her thoughts, but Massimo’s gaze had already drifted down to her breasts, and there was a sudden burst of lust in his eyes before the ice-cold veneer sharpened again across his face.
“The phone service is back, and I have called a helicopter to fetch us,” he said in a voice that was hard and final. “It will arrive in fifteen minutes.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. He turned and disappeared into his room. Catarina stared at his door, trying to process this new piece of information. They were no longer snowbound. She should be relieved. Shewasrelieved. But her treacherous body protested, suddenly not ready for it to end. Not like this.
Massimo hadn’t bothered to ask if she planned to leave with him. Of course, this made her want to insist that she would not, to put her foot down with this autocratic man. Her next instinct was to flee, but Catarina had already learned that he was a force she could not outrun. Not when the pull to stay near him came from inside herself.
Should she protest? Insist that she stayed here? Certainly, he would not carry her out to the helicopter against her will…would he? A part of her wanted to test him, just to see how far he would go to bend her to his will. Or maybe she already knew the answer. That was what disturbed her. But staying meant waiting for the avalanche dig-out, then the plow, then a tow truck to take his car, which was still buried in the snowbank at the end of her driveway. And after that, she’d need to summon the family jet, which her father had certainly called back to Milan. All of that would take time, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone in this house when she discovered whether she was pregnant.
Pregnant. The idea rattled around in her, almost too big to contemplate. She craved the closeness she had felt with her own mother. What would this relationship feel like from the other side? It was a responsibility she wasn’t sure she was ready for. But if a baby was already on the way, she had to be.
She showered and gathered her belongings, and fifteen minutes later, Catarina found herself walking through the deep snow, toward the landing spot Massimo had managed to scope out. She was thankful for the loud thump of the propeller, then for the driver listening through the headphones because it meant that she didn’t have to speak to Massimo beyond a bare minimum on their way down the mountain.
On arrival at the airport, she managed to summon a few polite words of thanks for the pilot, ingrained into her as deeply as anything else. As she walked up the steps to his jet, she reminded herself that in a few hours, she would be free to sort through these strange emotions stirring inside her. She would be free to fall apart again if she needed to. But for now, she just needed to get through this flight back to Milan.
Catarina settled in a plush leather armchair and turned to face the window. Massimo could have chosen any other seat on the jet, but he chose the one across from her, so that if she looked forward, she would get the full effect of his demanding gaze. Even out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of the strong jawline she had traced the night before, the broad, muscular shoulders that had held his powerful body above hers as he sank deep inside her. Her cheeks heated. Just Massimo’s nearness usurped the carefully cultivated persona she had always presented to the world. Catarina reminded herself that she was above anything as petty as telling him to find a new seat or moving herself, so she focused studiously on the sparkling blue sea that spread out underneath them as the plane climbed into the air.
“I will arrange for a marriage within the week at the church,” said Massimo as they leveled to cruising altitude. “I understand that you want an extravagant celebration, but we must ensure that the timing leaves no doubt about the legitimacy of this child.”
“You have no idea what I want,” she snapped.
Massimo raised his eyebrows, and his eyes flashed with heat. “Are you sure about that?”
His tone was unmistakably carnal, and her body simmered with the truth of these words. She swallowed and looked out the window, trying desperately to escape his gaze, to rein in the heat and temper that pulsed inside her.
“Ifthere is a baby,” she started, putting the emphasis onifand ignoring the feeling that the wordbabycreated within her, strange and unexpected, “this child will be loved and cared for regardless of our marriage status. That holds far more importance in my mind than your worries about what you call legitimacy. No child of mine would ever be made to feel illegitimate, whatever decisionsboththeir parents decide to make.”
Catarina slowed on the wordboth, and she said it in the measured voice that she endlessly practiced over the years, all without taking her eyes from the vast blue of the sea passing below them.
