‘I know.’ She moved her mouth away, towards the tip of his cock. ‘I want to. It’s just… I don’t think… I don’t know what to do.’
She saw the comprehension in his eyes, the anger that swiftly followed, but he blanked it again, almost immediately. Neither of them wanted James to darken this moment. To be any kind of factor in what they shared.
‘Do whatever you want. I’m yours, Genevieve. For right now, here, I’m all completely yours.’
And she took him in her mouth with a heart that was both full and broken. Full because what they shared defied so many hopes she’d held, but also broken, by his subtle, frequent reminders that this was temporary, when she wanted, more than anything, for it to be for keeps.
Everything he’d ever thought he knew about the world split and exploded as she moved her mouth down his length, struggling at first with the size of him and then growing in confidence—and pleasure—at the way it felt to take him like this. She moved her hips with wanton need as she lifted and dropped her head until his whole body was flooded with electricity and heat was flooding his balls, threatening to burst from him.
‘Stop,’ he said, barely able to speak, the word rasped from his body.
The hurt in her eyes made him want to reach right across the ocean and slam his fist into her vile ex’s face. That he could have undermined her sexual confidence so completely was abhorrent. Far from being frigid, Genevieve was sensual and warm, and the more they were together, the more her confidence grew, so he saw now a woman who, not only sought her pleasure, but delighted in it—in taking and giving. In the back of his mind, he knew that was because of him, and that he would always be glad to have given that to her.
‘Is it—wrong?’
‘Christo, no, but I am about to come, and I do not want to do so in your mouth.’
She frowned. ‘You don’t?’
He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up his body, shaking his head when their eyes were level. ‘For your sake, believe me. For your sake.’
‘But I—’
He shook his head once. He didn’t want to overwhelm her, not when she was still learning so much about what she liked.
‘Let me feel you like this,’ he insisted as he held her hips and thrust into her, already spilling a little of his seed, because of how close he’d been. ‘You are heaven on earth, do you know that?’
She dropped her head and kissed him, and said something he didn’t quite catch into his mouth, something whispered and low, that he didn’t ask her to repeat. Perhaps even then, on some level, he’d known things were getting out of hand. But it felt too incredibly good to stop…
She was used to the thundering of her heart, after they’d made love. Used to the way it felt as though it were going to launch clear out of her chest, because no way could her ribs stand up to that kind of punishment. But this time, as she lay in his arms, breath rushing from her lungs, body sated—for now—she knew that her heart was racing for another reason.
I love you so much.
The words had just dropped out of her, whispered from her straight into his mouth, pressed against him without her intention—and without his reaction. The words had been pulled right from the centre of her being, sucked out of her by the truth of her feelings, and they sat in her throat again now, begging to be spoken. To be spoken again and again, shouted, until he understood that this was not just sex, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
‘Nikos,’ she murmured, glancing up at him, to see his face in profile set in firm lines, a slight frown on his face.
As if he’d heard and was processing? Rejecting? Or was he thinking about something else?
If he had been anything like James, she would have stayed quiet. Fear had been her constant companion, and she’d shrunk herself down so completely, hidden who she was from the man who seemed to live to reject her.
But Nikos was not James, and, if nothing else, he deserved to know that she loved him. If he chose to walk away from her, and go back to his isolated island, his life of self-imposed misery, then he would. But at least he’d be going with the knowledge that she loved him—and one day, he might even accept that he was worthy of that love.
He angled his face so their gazes met, and her heart stammered harder. ‘I meant what I said,’ she murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek.
‘And what exactly did you say?’
She swallowed, to see if the words would dislodge, but they refused, so she surrendered to their agency. ‘I love you, so much.’
She felt his response. The tightening of his body, the tensing of his muscles. Even before he shook his head, she knew the rejection was coming. ‘Genevieve—’ His voice sounded disbelieving. ‘Why would you say that?’
She scrambled to sitting, pulling the sheet with her, to cover her breasts. ‘Because I want you to know it,’ she said honestly. ‘I’m not asking you to love me back. I’m not asking you to say that. But I need you to know that somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, and I have absolutely no regrets about that. Because you are good and kind, strong and noble, generous and thoughtful. I love everything about you, Nikos, except for how hard you are on yourself, but even that is a mark of your goodness.’
‘Don’t,’ he groaned, pushing out of the bed and striding across the room, before spinning around to face her. ‘Don’t say these things. What did I ask of you, when we began this fake engagement?’
She flinched a little at his reckless use of the word ‘fake’. As if to echo her rejection of the concept, she began to twirl her engagement ring.
‘Am I not allowed to be honest with you?’
