Her Greek Groom. Sara Craven

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      She was blind, deaf—mindless. Aware of nothing but the fierce concentration of pleasure that he was creating for her. As if the sun, beating against her eyelids, was blooming and growing inside her.

      And when, at last, he gave her the release she craved, she cried out in harsh animal delight as ripple upon ripple of pure feeling engulfed her—convulsed her. As she was flung out into space, where she fell into the centre of the sun and was consumed.

      She was totally relaxed, her body still throbbing with pleasure, as Draco moved above her, and, with one deep thrust, into her.

      For a fleeting instant she was scared by the memory of pain, then shocked by its absence. Because now there was only joyous acceptance, and a sense of completion.

      As if, she thought, this was the moment she had been made for.

      She raised her languid lids and stared up at him, letting herself enclose him. Hold him.

      Allowing herself to savour how alien it felt, yet at the same time how totally familiar—and precious.

      The bronze face was stark, his eyes like pits of darkness as he began to move, slowly and powerfully, inside her.

      Instinct lifted her hands to his shoulders and clasped her legs round his lean hips, so that she could partner him completely. Could mirror each compelling stroke.

      As the rhythm and intensity increased, Draco groaned something in his own language. She kissed his throat, licking the salt from his skin, feeling the thunder of his pulse against her lips.

      At the same time, deep within her, she was aware of the first flutterings of renewed delight. Incredulous, gasping, she held him closer, her sweat mingling with his as the spiral of pleasure tautened unbearably, then imploded.

      Her whole body rocked as the tremors of rapture tore through her, echoed by the wild spasms of his own climax.

      When it was over, he lay very still, his face against her breasts.

      She wanted to hold him. To put her lips against the damp, dark tangle of hair and whisper that she loved him. That as he’d been the first, so would he be the last.

      As his cherished bride, it would have been her right to open her heart to him. As his mistress—she sank her teeth into her swollen lower lip—she had no rights at all. And that was something she must never forget. That her role in his life was at best transient.

      At last he stirred, lifting himself away from her. He reached for his watch from the night table, grimaced at the time, and fastened the thin gold bracelet back on his wrist. Then he turned and looked down at Cressy, his dark eyes almost dispassionate.

      ‘Thank you.’ His voice was cool, even faintly amused. ‘I had not expected such—enchanting cooperation. You learn quickly.’

      ‘Is—is that all you have to say?’ Her voice shook. She felt as if she’d been slapped.

      ‘No, but the rest must wait. I have a meeting in the City. But you don’t have to leave,’ he added swiftly as Cressy half sat up. ‘No one will disturb you if you wish to sleep.’

      ‘I don’t,’ she said curtly. ‘I haven’t visited my father today. I need to get back there.’

      He nodded, unfazed. ‘Paul will contact you with your instructions.’

      ‘Instructions?’

      ‘I shall soon be returning to Greece. I require you to accompany me.’

      ‘But my job—my father,’ Cressy protested. ‘I can’t just—go.’

      ‘You will find that you can. Your employer has been most understanding. Your—services are on temporary loan to me. I did not explain the exact nature of the services,’ he added with a shrug. ‘So you can tell him as much or as little as you wish.’

      She swallowed. ‘My God,’ she said. ‘You don’t allow much to stand in your way, do you? Suppose I’d turned you down.’

      ‘I was certain you wouldn’t.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Apart from other considerations, your sexual curiosity had been aroused, agapi mou, and needed to be satisfied.’ His hand touched her shoulder, then travelled swiftly and sensuously down her body. It was the lightest of caresses but it brought her skin stinglingly alive.

      Draco’s laugh was soft. ‘You see, Cressida mou, even now you are eager for your next lesson. How sad that I have not more time to devote to you.’

      Cressy reached down and dragged the discarded sheet up over her body. She recognised that it was basically a meaningless gesture, but it made her feel marginally better.

      She forced herself to meet his gaze. She said, ‘You mentioned I was on loan to you. For how long, exactly?’

      Draco swung his long legs to the floor. ‘I said three months initially.’

      She said, ‘I—see.’

      The blissful euphoria which had followed their lovemaking had gone. In its place, pain and shame were dragging her apart.

      ‘I suggest you see a doctor as a matter of urgency,’ he tossed over his shoulder as he walked to the bathroom. ‘Today I used protection, but even so we must ensure there’s no chance of you becoming pregnant.’

      Cressy was suddenly very still, her eyes enormous as she stared after him.

      With a few casual words, she thought, he’d relegated her to the status of a non-person.

      Yet this was the reality of the situation. She was no longer his golden love. She was a temporary sexual partner. And the skill and artistry he’d brought to her initiation had simply been a means to an end. Draco had ensured her pleasure merely to increase his own.

      And if she’d hoped in some secret corner of her mind that the glory of their coming together would soften his attitude towards her, she knew better now, and disappointment twisted inside her like a claw.

      There were tears crowding in her throat, stinging the backs of her eyes, but she would not shed them in front of him.

      She said quietly. ‘No—of course not.’

      The bathroom door closed behind him, and presently she heard the sound of the shower running.

      She released a trembling breath. Somehow she had to come to terms with the relationship that he’d offered her, and all its limitations, when the most she could hope for was that it would soon be over.

      ‘Oh, God,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘How can I bear it?’

      And she turned her face into the pillow and lay like a stone.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      SHE pretended to be asleep when Draco came back into the bedroom, lying motionless, her eyes tightly shut, as she listened with nerves jangling to his quiet movements, the rustle of clothing as he dressed.

      When, СКАЧАТЬ