Brazilian Escape. Sandra Marton

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СКАЧАТЬ the plane. He could not wait—not for a moment longer. His knees nudged hers apart and he slipped his fingers briefly in, checking she was ready for him, finding that she was.

      And now there was nothing between them.

      And he was no longer patient.

      He warned her it would hurt.

      He watched her face as she blanched in pain, then kissed her hard on the mouth.

      As he drove into her she screamed into his mouth, because that first thrust seemed to go on for ever, and every part of her felt as if it was tearing just to accommodate his long, thick length. He tried to be gentle, but he was too large for that. But once he had ripped off that Band-Aid he kept moving within her, kept on kissing her mouth, her face, giving her no choice but to grow accustomed to the new sensations she was feeling. He moved within her as his tongue had earlier described that he would, moving deep till he had driven her wild. He wasn’t kissing her now, and she looked up to see his face etched with concentration, his eyes closed, his body moving rapidly as hers rose to meet him.

      Now it was Meg’s hands urging him on, digging her fingers into his tight buttocks, whimpering as she sought relief, and then he opened his eyes and let her have it, spilled every last drop deep into her. Her orgasm followed quickly after, and she was frenzied as she came, almost scared at the power of her body’s response, at the things he had taught her to do.

      And then he collapsed on top of her, his breathing heavy, and although it felt like a dream somehow it was real. Meg realised that he had been right—she had no idea how she’d got through her life without this.

      Without him.

      ‘Shouldn’t we be regretting this by now?’ Meg asked.

      They were lying in a very rumpled bed and it was morning. Her body ached with the most delicious hurt, but Niklas had assured her for this morning’s lesson she would need only her mouth.

      ‘What’s to regret?’ He turned on the bed and looked over to her.

      He didn’t do happiness, but he felt the first rays of it today. He liked waking up to her, and the rest was mere detail that he would soon sort out.

      ‘You live in Brazil and I live in Australia …’

      ‘As we both know, there are planes …’ He looked across the pillow. ‘Do you worry about everything?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I think you do.’

      ‘I don’t.’

      ‘So how shall we tell your parents?’

      He saw her slight grimace.

      ‘They might be pleased for you.’

      As the real world invaded so too did confusion. ‘I doubt it. It will be a terrible shock.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I think once they get used to the idea they’ll be pleased.’ And then she swallowed nervously. ‘I think.’

      He smiled at her worried face. ‘First of all you need to get used to the idea.’

      ‘I don’t know much about you.’

      ‘There isn’t much to know,’ Niklas said.

      She rather doubted that.

      ‘I don’t have family, as I said, so you have avoided having a mother-in-law. I hear from friends they can sometimes be a problem, so that’s an unexpected bonus for you!’

      He could be so flippant about things that were important, Meg thought, and there was so much she wanted to find out about him. She wondered how he had survived without a family, for a start, how he had made such a success of himself from nothing—because clearly he had. But unlike their wedding some things, Meg guessed, had to be taken more slowly—she couldn’t just sit up and fire a thousand questions at him. Somehow she knew it wasn’t something he would talk about easily, but she tried. ‘What was it like, though?’ Meg asked. ‘Growing up in an orphanage?’

      ‘There were many orphanages,’ he said. ‘I was moved around a lot.’ Perhaps he realised he wasn’t answering her question, because he added, ‘I don’t know, really. I try not to think about it.’

      ‘But …’

      He halted her. ‘We’re married Meg. But that doesn’t mean we need every piece of each other. Let’s just enjoy what we have, huh?’

      So if he didn’t want to talk about himself she’d start with the easier stuff instead. ‘You live in São Paulo?’

      ‘I have an apartment there,’ Niklas said. ‘If I am working in Europe I tend to stay at my house in Villefranche-sur-Mer. And now I guess I’ll have to look for somewhere in Sydney …’ His smile was wicked. ‘If your father gets really cross, maybe I can ask if he knows any good houses—if he would be able to help …’

      Meg started to laugh, because it sounded as if he did understand where she was coming from. Niklas was right—a nice big commission would certainly go a long way towards appeasing her father. She realised that the shock would wear off eventually, and that her rather shallow parents would be delighted to find somewhere for their rich new son-in-law to live.

      As Meg lay there, and the sun started to work its way through the chink in the curtains, she started to realise that this was the happiest she had been in her life. But even with that knowledge there was one part about last night that had been unjustifiably reckless.

      ‘I’ll go on the pill …’ she said. ‘If it isn’t already too late.’

      He had said this wasn’t for ever, and the wedding ring that had seemed a solution yesterday was less than one now.

      ‘If last night brings far-reaching consequences you will both be taken care of.’

      ‘For a while?’

      He looked over and knew that, unlike most women, Meg wasn’t talking about money. But his bank account was the only thing not tainted by his past.

      ‘For a while,’ Niklas said. ‘I promise you—we’ll be arguing within weeks, we’ll be driving each other insane—and not with lust …’ He smiled in all the wrong places, but he made her smile back. ‘You’ll be glad to see the back of me.’

      She doubted it.

      ‘I’m hard work,’ he warned.

      But worth it.

      Though she was going on the pill.

      And then he looked over to her again, and for as long as it was like this she could adore him.

      ‘I am going to write to the airline tomorrow and thank them for not having a first-class seat,’ he said.

      ‘I might write and thank them too.’

      ‘It will be okay,’ he told her. ‘Soon I will ring Carla and I will have her re-schedule things. Then we will meet with your parents and I will tell them.’ He grinned at her horrified expression.

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