The Playboy's Fugitive Bride (30 page)

A sensual smile curved her lips.  She worked her finger inside her slowly raising her hips to meet her downward plunges, her sweet chocolate eyes ablaze with passion and wickedness as she held his gaze, watched the play of desire roll over him.  Oh yes, his wife was a pro at self-stimulation.  He was proud of her.

“So you
do
like to watch,” she said in a silky voice, still laden with sleep.

“Yes, I like to watch,” he responded, remembering bits and pieces of their first conversation the day they met.  “Do you like to watch?”  His voice was gravely with emotion.

She spread her thighs a little wider to give her more room to play, or perhaps it was for his viewing pleasure.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never watched before.”

“Then watch then tell me.”  Only for her, he began to stroke himself again.  Slowly and steadily he pumped his fist along his shaft from the base to the tip, squeezing and rotating as he watched the curiosity in her eyes turn to awareness, then desire, and enchantment.

“I like to watch,” she finally confessed, her passion-filled eyes coming back to his face.  “But you should stop before you come.  I want you to come inside me.”

Dear Lord, he wanted that too.  Massimo released his shaft that was now so hard, it slapped against his belly and pointed straight up toward the ceiling.  He wanted to come inside her, make a baby with her—not to keep his inheritance, but to bind her to him forever.  She would never knowingly run with his child in her belly.  He’d only known her a few days, and they’d only been married a few hours, but Massimo already knew that he didn’t want to move into the future without her.  He couldn’t imagine his life without Shaina Norwood in it.

She pulled her hand from inside her panties, and to his amazement, she brought it to her mouth and without breaking their gaze, she began to lick her juices off her fingers like a cat cleans its paws after a kill.  His wife was full of surprises.  Shrugging out of his robe and tossing it on the floor, Massimo crawled up the divan to perch on the side.  He was careful not to touch her, but the heat from her body was scorching the hairs on his skin.

Her eyes widened in surprise and her luscious lips froze in an O around her middle finger when he reached across her, grabbed her other hand and pinned it to the divan above her head.

“You don’t think I’m gonna let you clean all that up by yourself, do you?  This is a marriage, a partnership.  We share everything—the good, the bad, the dirty.”  He dropped his head and curled his lips about hers.  He felt her quiver at the contact, then she giggled, then moaned as he began licking her fingers and her mouth, tasting her, as the musky smell of her sex sent his heart leaping inside his chest.

“Sweet.  So sweet,” he murmured as their tongues worked together to clean all traces of her wantonness from her fingers and her rings.  When she was panting under him and he was satisfied that she was clean, he raised his head and smiled down at her.  Never had he performed such sensual acts with a woman before.  He’d never even conjured them up.  But he liked them.

“There’s more where that came from, you know,” she said on a tantalizing smile.

“Are you asking me to eat your—”

“Yes, but only if you want to.  Don’t want to be accused of making you do anything you don’t want to do,” she said, her lips pouting in mock disappointment.

Massimo chuckled as he caught her other hand and pinned it above her head near the other.  “You’re definitely a virgin,” he said, watching her intently.  “Your hymen is still intact, but you’re no innocent, Nia Sylk.”

“I never told you I was innocent.  You misinterpreted my words.”  She wriggled in pleasure.

“We seem to do a lot of that, don’t we?”  He held her fast, his eyes raking down her vulnerable body as a slow fire began to build in him again.

“Yes we do.”

He gazed deeply into her sweet brown eyes, wanting so badly to tell her what he’d discovered, but afraid of how she’d react.  Would she stay with him if she knew he knew her secret, or would she try to run again out of embarrassment or fear of what she thought he might do to her?  He wasn’t willing to take that risk—again not because of his inheritance.

Massimo surrendered to the stark naked truth.  For the first time in his life, he was afraid of something.  He was afraid of losing Nia.

Her eyed narrowed and a frown settled on her face as she gazed at the scar in his side.  “Mass, what’s that?  It’s too big to be a bullet hole.  It looks more like a—”

“I was in an accident a long time ago,” he said cutting her off.

“What happened?”

Massimo’s heart raced at the concern in her eyes.  “One day I’ll tell you all about it.”  Now was not the time to discuss his face-to-face encounter with death.  If he told her the truth, she’d know he could not have possibly given the order to close her father’s mill, and that would lead them into a different discourse.  No, he’d rather stay in this one.  When she opened her mouth to ask more questions, he bent down and kissed her long and hard until she sighed her surrender into his mouth.

Assured that her questions about his scar were forgotten for now, Massimo released her mouth.  “There’s one thing we can’t misinterpret,” he said, releasing her hands and pushing to his feet.

“What’s that?”  Her eyes zeroed in on his erection.

“Take off your clothes and I’ll show you.”  He wanted to test her desire for him, her commitment to their marriage.  He wanted her to want to make love with him, not because she thought he expected it, but because she truly desired to give herself willingly and completely to him.

“Slowly,” he advised, walking back to the bottom of the divan to reclaim his previous position.  He felt a tingling along his spine as she pushed to her knees, gathered the hem of her gown in her hands and slowly pulled it up along her slender body.  She raised her hands above her head, taking much, much longer than necessary to pull it completely off.  Massimo groaned as his eyes grazed down her perfect brown body, her beautiful perky breasts, high on her chest, her round brown nipples a little taut with the promise of growing darker and harder with his love, the flat dip of her belly tapering off into her still hidden Venus mound—the place where he would ultimately unleash his passion for her.  Dark and lovely suddenly had meaning for him.

Her gown fluttered to the floor next to his robe and she swung her head, tossing her long black hair over her shoulders—so sexy.  Massimo held his breath as her thumbs hooked into the waist of her panties and she proceeded to push them slowly off her hips, over the curve of her thighs.  She dropped back to her buttocks and pulled them completely off, baring her sex, swollen and glistening from her self-stimulation.

Massimo was standing beside her, their bodies so close he could feel the heat rising up inside her.  “You’re beautiful,” he said, running his fingertips along her arms, feeling her shiver from his touch.  “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She trembled at his words, and gathering her into his arms, he picked her up and took her over to his bed.  He set her gently down on her back in the middle of it like he’d done last night as his fully clothed virgin bride.  Only this time she was completely naked and she would no longer be a virgin when she left. 

Massimo came down over her, supporting his weight on his elbows and arms on either side of her.  He glanced down between their bodies, loving the contrast in the tones of their skin.  It was erotically stimulating.

He cradled her face in his hands and gazed deep into her eyes, his heart trembling at the emotions she aroused in him.  “I’m sorry for locking you in this morning,” he said, needing to clear the air.  “But I couldn’t take the chance of you running again.”

She touched her finger to his lips.  “It’s okay.  You don’t trust me, and you were right not to because I did try to run.”

He swallowed at her honesty.  There was no reason for her to tell him the truth, but he was happy she did.  “I want to trust you, Nia.  Can you promise me that you’ll stop running?”

She nodded.  “Yes,” she said on a choked whisper.  “It’s pointless.  There’s no place on this earth I can hide from you.  And I wouldn’t want to miss this, anyway,” she added, thrusting her hips upward to graze her silken belly against the firmness of his, trapping his erection between them. 

Heat generated in his belly.  He dipped his head and pressed his lips against her forehead, and as her arms circled his shoulders, he began to drop a series of kisses along her face, working his way down to her mouth as passion rolled through him.  “How long have you been dreaming about me?”  He imagined it had been six years since she first saw him at her father’s mill.

“Forever.  I’ve been dreaming about you forever, Massimo, and I’m ready to make that dream come true.”

Massimo swallowed at the spark of desire he saw in her eyes.  There would be no fighting him, no pretending that she didn’t want him.  She was giving herself willingly, erotically, and exquisitely to him.  She was trusting him to quench the fire burning inside her, to release the passion she’d been bottling up for twenty-three years—to make her a woman, bring her pleasure she didn’t know possible.

Nia came easily—much more easily than any woman he knew, and he was dying to sink his aching need inside her while she came, but he had to proceed with caution because she was a virgin.  He’d heard rumors of some newly deflowered virgins not wanting to be touched for days, sometimes longer.  Massimo didn’t want to have to stay away from Nia.  They were going to come together multiple times today.

“Do you want me, Nia?  Truly want me?” he asked needing to hear her say the words.

“Yes, Massimo.  I want you.  I want to mate with you.”

“Then let’s mate, pussycat,” he whispered against her mouth.

As Massimo’s mouth closed over hers, Nia wrapped her arms about his shoulders, and gave herself over to the passion of his kiss.  It wasn’t demanding, or ravishing like his kisses in the past, but slow, lazy, and drugging with a dreamy intimacy that made her quiver at the sweet tenderness of it.  He moved his mouth over hers, savoring its softness, sucking and nibbling on her lips as if he were enjoying a delicious piece of chocolate candy.  This was a new side to his lovemaking and she loved it.

Massimo was no longer the rat-bastard she despised and was eager to swindle and humiliate. 
He was her husband
.  She was no longer a scared young girl forced to offer her body to her nemesis in exchange for money to pay back a loan shark. 
She was his wife
.

Suddenly the conditions of their union didn’t matter to Nia anymore.  Maybe she was naïve.  Maybe she was crazy.  Even stupid to be feeling the way she felt about him, but her life had changed the minute she walked up to him in that cabin on Bristol Mountain four days ago.  Or perhaps it was six years ago when she’d hidden in the back of the factory cafeteria and listened to him lie to her father and his employees.  In spite of his deception, she’d still pledged her heart, mind, body and soul to him.

For better, or worse?
  She didn’t know.  The one thing she was certain of was that she was done denying herself the pleasure of Massimo Andretti.  She wanted her husband.  True, she’d just forgiven him for locking her in the master suite today, and she’d promised him that she would not run again, but their marriage was grounded on so many lies and deceit.

There was no trust or love between them.  Just pure unadulterated lust and passion.  A whole lot of lust and passion, she thought, as the bracing scent of his freshly showered body made her tingle all over. 

When Massimo’s tongue finally sought entrance into her mouth, Nia opened wide to receive him.  She sighed as he traced the soft fullness of her inner lips and cheeks and stroked the roof of her mouth with the tip, and when he delved deeper seeking hers, she offered it up with a deep moan.

He echoed her moan as he began to suckle her, pulling little sighs of pleasure from her.  As their tongues twirled around each other, fire began to build in Nia again.  She felt restless, and her hands ran erratically up and down his powerful shoulders, molding his smooth hard flesh, loving the way his muscles contracted beneath her palm.  As his dark silky chest hairs lightly brushed them, her breasts began to tingle and swell and her nipples tightened and hardened with excitement.  She felt a throbbing in the core of her womanhood and seeking connection, she wrapped her legs about Massimo’s waist and arched upward.

Understanding her need, he lay flat on her, crushing her swelling breasts beneath his chest and fitting the ridge of his hard sex against her moistness.  Skin to skin, they were one.  A searing heat sang through Nia’s core and a harsh groan ripped from her throat as Massimo began to gyrate against her with slow excruciating sweetness, dipping and rolling, and each time the ridge of his sex made contact with her clitoris, he thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth.  He kept up his tantalizing assault on her mouth and her sex until the ache inside became too much to contain.

She screamed his name, but his mouth on hers kept it locked in her throat.  Trapped, the echo of his name spiraled down inside her like a roaring ball of fire and settled into the deepest part of her body.  Nia dug her nails into his back and tangled her legs around his as he pushed her deeper into the center of the twisting firestorm.  As her body tightened about him, he pressed her into the mattress with his whole body, holding her down while the raging ball of fire that was his name exploded inside her.

Gasping for air and robbed of all her strength, Nia lay listless under him.

Her body was still trembling when he released her mouth and raised his head to smile down at her.  “
Vuoi piu
? You want more?” he asked, the light of desire illuminating his mellow blue eyes.

“
Si
,” she responded in the only Italian she knew.

“Say,
voglio di più
, Massimo.  I want more.”

“
Voglio di più
, Massimo.”  Nia shivered as the aching walls of her sex contracted.  She couldn’t tell if it was from slaked passion or renewed desire.  It didn’t matter.  The ache suggested she wanted more of her husband.  She’d always want more of him.  She could never get too much.