Natalie Anderson - The Greek's One-Night Heir

‘Stop. Stop. ’ He dragged in a harsh breath.

She froze and pulled back with a worried expression. ‘I’m sorry—’

‘No.’ He rubbed his forehead with a hard hand and groaned. ‘It’s just… I’m going to come.’

‘Don’t you want to?’

His shout of laughter hurt. His whole body ached. ‘I wanted to warn you—’

‘I don’t want to stop,’ she whispered.

The desire in her eyes stiffened him impossibly more. He growled his assent, unable to form another word, his want was too great. And then she sucked him dry.

His heart pounded so loud he thought it was going to burst. When he could finally open his eyes, he saw her smiling down at him—pride and amusement gleaming in her gaze. She was energised and so beautiful. She wasn’t just insatiable, but capable of experiencing an intensity he knew was rare. And of sharing it with that gorgeous little laugh of hers.

‘You okay?’ He didn’t know why he was asking her when he was so light-headed he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sit up again. But then adrenalin fired him anew. Because he realised she was incredibly aroused. She’d liked touching him, tasting him. Getting and giving pleasure was always a great way to spend a night, but this was something else. This felt sweeter and sexier than anything.

‘I still don’t want to stop,’ she said in the softest whisper. ‘I still don’t want you to stop.’

Her confession just demolished him. He was unable to resist and desperately aching to please her—wanting her to be more than sated, more than thrilled. He didn’t want to deny her anything. So when he should’ve been spent, he was hard again and filled with an arrogant, outrageous determination. Who was he to tell her what she should or shouldn’t do anyway? She knew he was leaving in the morning. She knew there was only this between them, only now. And she’d given them both permission to make the most of it. All he wanted now was to make it the best he could for her. Which meant keeping himself in check for a while yet. And being certain.

‘I’ve never slept with a virgin before, Leah,’ he said hoarsely, still catching his breath.

Her lashes veiled her eyes. ‘Not even when you were a virgin?’

‘No, I wasn’t the first for my first. Do you really want to talk about—?’

‘Did she make it good for you?’

A wry smile curved his lips. ‘She did.’

‘Then maybe think of this as paying it forward?’ She looked as if she was braced for rejection.

He just couldn’t deny her. ‘You know you can change your mind. I’ll—’

‘Theo—’

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he confessed rawly. It was incredibly true. Somehow, this woman he’d met only a few hours ago was precious to him. She mattered.

Her expression softened. ‘If it hurts, maybe you can kiss it better…’ She trailed off, suddenly shy.

That wave of protectiveness welled in him. He turned, swiftly searching the bedside table drawers. Relieved, he tossed the small box he’d found onto the bed. He’d leave nothing to chance.

Leah moaned as he pressed kisses across her collarbones and down her décolletage. He was so patient—too patient really. When he finally braced above her, anticipation heightened to a new level. He was big and heavy and wonderful. The slick hot reality impinged as she saw his muscles bunch. He braced as he held back. She knew he was being careful; she could tell in the way he watched her so closely. His concern melted her all the more.

‘Please,’ she murmured, knowing he needed to hear her wish again.

His expression tensed and he moved. Leah gasped as his big body invaded hers—tearing that last tiny barrier to bury deep inside her. He caught her sharp cry in a quick kiss.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered. His gaze was filled with searching concern for her. Of course that compassion was there—because if it wasn’t she never would have sought this with him.

‘Are you okay?’ He framed her face and kissed her again and again—so gentle and lush.

He was pressed so deeply into her. So incredibly close. And it was so overwhelming she could only nod, as she adjusted to his possession and to the millions of nerve endings that had sparked to life within her—that suddenly sought so much more.

He held firm, slowly kissing her until the stillness was too much for her—she needed him to move. Warmth overflowed. She’d not expected it would be this intimate and yet of course it was. She revelled in the tender passion of his kisses and her body relaxed until she was no longer just accepting his invasion, but welcoming it—slickening, heating, until she instinctively rocked her hips to help. He kissed her again and his groan reverberated into her chest. He moved then too, taking control, making it magic, and she completely forgot that first moment of pain in her building delight. She followed his rhythm, learning this dance until instinct urged her to hold him closer still. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging close with every part of her as the spasms of delight snuck up on her so swiftly.

‘Don’t stop,’ she breathed desperately. ‘Please, don’t stop.’

But as she curved more tightly around him, so close to completion, he growled and suddenly froze.

‘Theo?’ she asked.

‘Trying…’ he gulped a breath ‘…not to be too rough.’

But she needed all of him.

‘Finish me,’ she begged.

At her broken plea she felt his restraint unravel and power surged in his body. He lost it—thrusting harder and faster and it was so dizzying, so intense, so unbearably good. She could only try and hold on, but her restraint had fled too. She clawed his skin, grasping him as tight as she could in her grip as her body and mind locked on him. But he didn’t stop, he pounded closer and fiercer, pushing them higher, further and faster until everything exploded in a flash of heat and light and utter, utter ecstasy.

Hours later Leah blinked, wishing she’d eaten more carrots as a kid so her night vision was better. Instead, she tripped over her shoe and muffled her squawk of pain as she hopped and tried to see well enough to find her other one. Her clothes had been scattered on the floor around the bed and, while she’d found most of them, she just needed this one last thing.

‘Why are you trying to sneak out?’ The lazy tease in his voice made her shiver.

‘Sorry.’ She stifled her nervous laughter.

As he switched on the lamp she glanced at him, embarrassment curling her spine. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

His eyebrows lifted. ‘Because you didn’t want to talk to me?’

She swallowed. ‘I just…’

His low chuckle filled the void. ‘Relax. This doesn’t have to be awkward.’

‘No?’ But she needed to escape now because the temptation to fling herself back into bed, wrap herself around him and never let him go was just a little too strong.

He leaned out of bed and reached for his phone. ‘Give me your number.’

She stilled; the crowd of clamouring emotions shaking her up needed to settle. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said bravely. The night was over, the magic gone—wasn’t it? ‘We don’t even live in the same country.’ She drew in a breath. ‘So…there’s no point, is there?’

She wanted him to argue with her and say he wanted to see her again. But she had the feeling she’d spend the rest of eternity hoping he’d call. And if he did? Would she end up his booty call when he was in London? He didn’t want a relationship, and never marriage, remember? And she did want those things. So this needed to stay as a finite dream night.