Christmas Baby For The Greek - Page 49

Reaching forward, Holly yanked on his white shirt, popping off buttons that scattered to the floor. She could hardly believe her own boldness as she reached inside his open shirt to slowly stroke down his hard-muscled bare chest, lightly dusted with dark hair.

With a low growl, he grabbed her wrists. For a moment, he just looked down at her, his black eyes searing her. Then without a word, he pushed her back on the bed.

Never taking his gaze off her, her husband took off his shirt, dropping it the floor. She had the sharp image of his powerful bare chest, all shadows and hollows in the flickering firelight. She reached toward him. She couldn’t wait. She had to feel his body, his weight. She had to feel him against her. Now.

“Stavros,” she whispered, arms extended.

He moved instantly, climbing over her on the bed in a single athletic movement. She exhaled as she felt his body over hers, his heavy weight pushing her into the mattress, felt the bare skin of his chest and arms against hers. Lifting himself up on one powerful arm, he cupped her cheek, looking down at her intently.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “And I’m never going to let you go...”

He lowered his lips to hers, softly at first. Then his embrace deepened, turning hungry, almost savage. Her nipples tightened beneath her white silk bustier as his powerful muscles moved against her. As he kissed her, he stroked down her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. He cupped her breast over the silk, then reached beneath it to caress her taut nipple, making her gasp.

Pulling away, he looked down at her, his eyes dark. Sitting up, he pulled the silk off her body as if it was nothing more than a thought. Lowering his head between her full breasts, he kissed down the valley between them, all the way to the soft curve of her belly. He ran his hands over the edge of her hips, where her white lace panties clung, digging into her skin. He kissed her belly button, flicking his tongue inside it, as he unbuckled her garters. His large hands caressed each cheek of her bottom before he slowly moved down her body. Sensually, he rolled down each white stocking, soft as a whisper and elusive as a dream.

As the silk slid slowly down her skin, he followed it with kisses down one leg, then the other, down her thighs to the curve beneath her knees, all the way to the hollows of her feet. She shivered on the bed, feeling vulnerable, wearing only her tiny thong panties. After tossing the stockings aside, he pushed her legs apart. She looked up at him in the silver-white firelight, which left dancing patterns across his powerful naked chest.

She looked at his trousers, then met his eyes as she whispered like a fearless wanton woman, “Take them off.”

He moved so rapidly he was almost a blur, ripping off his trousers and the dark boxers beneath. In half a second, they were on the floor, and he was on her.

Then her flimsy lace panties were gone, disintegrated beneath the force of his powerful hands. Cupping her breasts, he positioned himself between her legs. As he lowered his head, possessing her lips with his own, she felt the hard thickness of him pressing between her thighs. Her hips moved of their own volition, swaying against him, as her hands raked down his back, settling against his hard-muscled backside.

She felt his powerful body shiver. Lifting his head, he looked down at her face. For a moment, she thought he would say something, something that could either annihilate her or make her soul explode with joy—one or the other. Instead, he just lowered his head and kissed her fiercely. Pulling his hips back, he thrust inside her in a single smooth movement, making her gasp as he filled her, all the way to the hilt.

Her fingernails dug into his skin as she looked up at his handsome face. His eyes were closed, his expression one of ecstasy.

Drawing back, he pushed inside her a second time, this time very slowly, so she could feel him, inch by inch. She closed her own eyes, surrendering to the pleasure building inside her, spiraling rapidly out of control.

She gasped as he suddenly moved, rolling her on top of him. Her eyes flew open. She looked down at him.

He reached up and tenderly caressed her cheek.

“I want to watch you,” he whispered. His hands moved down the edge of her throat, lazily cupping her full breast, stroking his thumb against her taut, aching nipple. “I want to see what your face is like when you’re the one in control.”

* * *

Stavros looked up at his bride, naked astride him on the enormous bed in his penthouse bedroom.

He was telling her the truth. But not all of it. He watched the play of lights and shadows on her beautiful face. Across the room, the artificial Christmas tree sparkled in front of floor-to-ceiling windows revealing Manhattan at their feet.

He did want to see her in control. But only because, being inside her, he’d been about to lose his own.

She felt too good. She felt too tight. After a year of rampant hunger, of repressed longing, he’d nearly lost his mind pushing inside her once. For the second thrust, he’d applied the brakes, going as slowly as possible. But that hadn’t helped. He’d known, if he thrust a third time, that he would have exploded inside her.

Hardly the wedding night he wanted, or the one Holly deserved. And so he’d rolled on his back, thinking to give his willpower some respite. If she controlled the rhythm, surely he could make it last.

Instead, as he looked up now into her glowing emerald eyes, he saw the red blush on her cheeks as she bit down harder on her swollen lower lip, and his shaft, already so hard he groaned with need, flexed instinctively. She hesitated, glancing down at his naked body, now spread beneath her. She said uncertainly, “What do I do?”

“As you want, agape mou,” he said huskily.

Her face was uncertain. Then as she looked down at him, her expression changed. Lowering her head, she whispered, “Don’t move a muscle.”

She kissed him, entwining his tongue with hers. A shiver went through him and he started to lift his arms around him. Punishingly, she ripped her lips away. “No.” Grabbing his wrists, she pushed his arms down firmly into the mattress. “Don’t move. And don’t say a word!”

He started to reply, then saw her glare.

When she saw his surrender, she gave a satisfied nod and then kissed him again, lowering her lips to his. She was careful to let no other part of their bodies touch, teasing him.

Tags: Jennie Lucas Billionaire Romance
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