A Sicilian Husband - Kate Walker [64]
Only then, when he was naked and proudly erect before her, did she turn her attention to her own clothes. The dress was easily pulled up and over her head, the small slivers of silk that were her underwear soon followed, and as she turned back to Gio she heard the harsh, rough-edged breath that hissed in through his clenched teeth. The sound of a man very close to the edge of his control.
‘Teresa!’ he said and it was a groan of desperation. ‘Have mercy on me…’
And because it was what she wanted too she nodded slowly, her smile wide and triumphant.
‘Now,’ she said. ‘Now you can touch.’
And from the first moment that his hands made contact with her body she was lost, caught up in a whirlwind of sensation such as she had never known before. His fingers woke, teased, tormented, tantalised until she was a screaming mass of awareness and hunger, the need of him like a white-hot pulse at the very core of her being.
With his mouth still on her breast, Gio intuitively fulfilled her fantasy of just moments before, lifting her from her feet and tumbling her down onto the huge, soft cushions of the settee, coming after her in a hungry rush. His long legs nudged hers apart, the heated force of his masculinity straining at the juncture of her thighs, his hands sliding under her buttocks, lifting her up, tilting her so that she was perfectly ready for him.
‘Now I can touch,’ he muttered, more raw and rougher than ever before. ‘Now I can touch—and now I can do this…’
The last word was a sound of triumph and the deepest satisfaction all in one as he thrust his hotly aroused body deep into hers, taking, filling, making her his once and for all.
It was only seconds from that moment, only the space of a few, heated, throbbing heartbeats before Terrie felt all trace of control slipping from her, her body curving, arching against his, her senses climbing, peaking, shattering and taking her with him over the edge and into the oblivion of ecstasy.
She had no idea when she surfaced again, how long it had been, what had woken her. But she slowly opened her eyes to find that Gio was awake, his head propped up on one hand, dark eyes watching her with a disturbing intensity.
‘Hi!’ she murmured, smiling, and felt a twist of apprehension when the smile was not returned but was met with a long, thoughtful stare. ‘What…?’
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said slowly. ‘About this agreement of ours. How would you feel if I said that I don’t want you to go? I want you to stay here?’
‘Gio…’ Terrie could hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘Are you saying that you…?’
She broke off, the swift rush of joy subsiding just as fast as it had come as he closed his eyes, shutting himself off from her.
‘Don’t, Teresa,’ he said with difficulty. ‘Don’t ask me to give you anything more than I can manage. I’ll give you what I can… You mustn’t ask for more.’
His eyes opened again, burning straight into her uncertain grey ones.
‘All I can…’
And would that be enough? Terrie was forced to ask herself. Feeling as she did about him, could she cope with that?
But then Gio reached for her, his arms closing round her. He kissed her, his hands smoothing down the length of her body, stirring and awakening the heady clamour that drowned out the ability to think straight—to think at all.
And it all began again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TERRIE walked back into the bedroom slowly and reluctantly, her heart twisting on a painful combination of relief and distress when she realised that the room was empty. Gio had gone downstairs and she was alone. If she listened hard she could hear the sounds of him moving about in the kitchen.
And she could only pray that for the moment at least he would stay there. That he would give her some time to be on her own and think.
Time to adjust to what she had just discovered.
She wasn’t pregnant.
She had known it as soon as she had woken up that morning. The familiar aching feeling low