JACQUELINE BAIRD - Mediterranean Men Unleashed - The Billionaire's Blackmailed Bride

Emily felt a stab of pain and winced. She saw the shock in his dark eyes as he stilled and began to withdraw. But she could not let him go, not now as the thick fullness of him made her inner muscles clench, and instinctively she locked her legs around his waist, slid her arms around his back. ‘Please. Please, I want you. I love you.’

She heard the sharp intake of his breath, felt the heavy beating of his heart and the tension in every muscle of his body. Then he moved, slowly thrusting a little deeper, and then withdrawing and sliding deeper still.

Miraculously her silken sheath stretched to accommodate him, and Emily was lost to everything except the pure physical wonder of his possession. The indescribable sensations beating through her, the sleek skin beneath her fingers, and the heated scent of two bodies joined. The wonder as in seconds she matched the rhythm he set, driving her ever higher to some unknown destination she ached … was dying for.

Her nails dug deep into his satin-smooth skin as great waves of ecstasy rippled through her and then roared as he thrust hard and fast and she cried out as her body convulsed in exquisite rapture, and she was flung into a hot, mindless oblivion. She heard Anton groan, and she forced her eyes open and felt his great body buck and shudder with the force of his own release.

Loosely she wrapped her arms around him as he buried his head on her shoulder. The heavy pounding of his heart against hers and his weight were a solid reminder of the power and passion, the love he had given her. A soft smile curved her lips. Anton truly was her husband.

EMILY had never imagined such ecstasy existed, and as the rippling aftermath of pleasure receded and her breathing steadied a beauteous smile curved her swollen lips. She savoured the weight of Anton lying over her, the heavy pounding of his heart against hers.

‘I am too heavy,’ he rasped.

‘No, perfect,’ she murmured and felt the warmth of Anton’s breath against her throat as he rolled off her.

Her blue eyes misty, she watched him walk to the bathroom, and return moments later, his great body bronzed and glistening with beads of perspiration. ‘Come back to bed.’

He lay down beside her, supporting himself on one elbow, his dark eyes searching hers. ‘Anton.’ She lifted a hand to brush the damp fall of hair from his brow. ‘I never knew love could be so …’ She was lost for words except to say, ‘I love you.’ She couldn’t stop saying it. ‘I love everything about you.’ Her finger traced the line of his cheekbone, his strong chin shadowed with dark stubble. She sighed. He was so magnificent … so perfect … and incredibly she felt slow-building warmth once again in her slender body.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?’ He shook his head, and her hand slipped to his broad shoulder, relishing the feel of his smooth skin beneath her fingers.

‘Does it matter? We are truly married now,’ she said, but her smile faded a little as she looked into his eyes. They were no longer gleaming with desire, but narrowed in angry puzzlement on her face.

‘But you were engaged to be married once before. How could it be?’

Emily was surprised and intrigued. How did Anton know she had been engaged before? She was sure she had never told him, and without a second thought she asked him.

‘Someone must have mentioned it,’ he dismissed, and she had the oddest notion he was avoiding a direct answer. ‘But that is not important; you should have told me I was your first.’

‘Why? Would you have refused to make love to me if I had?’ she teased, and stroked a slender finger down his chest. Slowly, sensually …

‘Yes … No … But I could have been more careful if I had known.’

She lifted both her hands and ran her fingers through his black hair, holding his head firmly between her palms. Her blue eyes were sparkling with devilment. ‘Well, you can be careful the next time.’ And pulled his head down, wanting to kiss him.

She heard the husky rumble of his laugh and suddenly he turned, and in one fluid moment he pulled her on top of him. She wriggled a little, her legs parting to enclose his strong thighs, and heard his sharp intake of breath with feminine satisfaction.

‘For an innocent I have a feeling you are going to be a very fast study,’ he said with husky amusement in his tone.

‘I hope so,’ she quipped, and ran her hand over the soft curling hairs of his chest, her finger grazing a very male nipple. ‘When does the next lesson begin?’ she asked mischievously, resting her chin on his breastbone and looking up into his darkly handsome face.

His sensuous grin sent a delicious shiver the length of her spine. ‘I think I have awakened a sleeping tigress, and the first thing you need to know is the male takes a little longer to recover than the female, though it is a known fact that with a little encouragement the waiting time can be reduced.’

‘Like this, you mean,’ she prompted softly, and dipped her head to brush his lips with hers, and then his throat, and finally her tongue slipped out to lick a hard male nipple. She loved the musky male taste of him; she could not get enough of him, revelling in the strong hard body beneath her. She trailed one hand down over his rock-hard diaphragm, her slender fingers tracing the slim line of black body hair down to the flat plane of his belly, and lower to explore his essential maleness, and very quickly the waiting was over.

Time had no meaning as they explored the hunger, the depths of passion and the exquisite tenderness of their love. They bathed and made love again, slept and made love again …

Emily yawned and opened her eyes to find Anton standing over her dressed in khaki shorts and a white polo shirt, and holding a coffee-cup in his hand. Sleepily she looked at him, a slow beautiful smile curving her full lips.

‘You’re up,’ she murmured and her stomach gave a distinct rumble. ‘What time is it?’

He grinned and placed the cup and saucer on the bedside table. ‘One.’ Then he bent his head to drop a swift kiss on her brow.

She frowned. ‘It’s the middle of the night. Come back to bed.’

‘It is one on Thursday afternoon.’

‘Oh, hell!’ she exclaimed and stretched, then winced as muscles she never knew she had stung. ‘I must get up.’ She started to, then realized she was naked, and, finding the cotton coverlet, she tugged it over her body.

Anton winced guiltily with her, his dark eyes roaming over her lithe, shapely form. She looked so delectable, her blonde hair tousled around her beautiful face, her lips pink and swollen from his kisses, and the sheet barely covering her luscious breasts.

He had bedded some of the most stunning women in the world, but none came close to Emily. She was perfection incarnate, and he knew the image of her naked body, the wild passion they had shared, would be for ever etched in his brain. She had been a virgin, and he should have had more control, and he had tried .

After the second time, he had carried her to the bathroom and bathed her, but by the time he had got around to drying her he had lost control again, then he had given up counting. He had never known a woman like her in his life; she was all Eve, a temptress, and a siren with a body to drive a man out of his mind.

As he had expected from the first time he laid eyes on Emily, she was a sexy, passionate woman. She had gone up in flames as soon as he touched her. She had wreathed in his arms, and cried his name, cried out her love as he possessed her exquisite body, convulsing in orgasmic pleasure time after time.

What was even more amazing, with remarkable aptitude in no time at all she learnt just what buttons to press to make him equally helpless in the power of their passion. She was a naturally born sensualist …