her pussy, anticipation fizzing through her like champagne bubbles. The blunt tip of his cock nudged its way into her slick channel, and a moan slipped from her lips.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice tender and pleading and thick with desire. The hand on her thigh moved as he twisted his hips, giving her more of his dick. She turned her head to look at him as his fingers found her clit. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers, his stroking fingers sending spirals of pleasure through her. “My Laura. My love.”
“Samir,” she said, reaching back to run a hand through his hair. “I… I—”
“It’s okay.” He kissed her again, hot and slow, as his hips moved. As he ground into her, rubbing that sensitive place inside, his fingers strummed her swollen clit. “Just love me like this,” he whispered against her lips. “Like this.”
And she did. When she came again with his name on her lips; when he held her impossibly close as he lost control; when he spilled into the condom with a moan torn from deep inside him.
She did.
16
“Are you sure this omelette will be up to Max’s standards?”
Samir leant against the kitchen counter as he whisked a bowl of eggs, trying not to look as besotted as he felt. “You know, Bianchi’s is my cafe.”
“And yet, I’ve never seen you cook.” Laura sat at the worn old table, biting down on a smile, eyes dancing, cheeks flushed. She looked—in a word—satisfied. He liked that look.
He liked satisfying her too. In fact, once she was fed, he’d like to satisfy her again.
“You know I can cook,” Samir said, turning back to the oven. It would be harder for lust to overwhelm him if he didn’t look at her, right?
“What I know,” she said pertly, “is that Max’s omelettes have kept me happy for months, but yours are an unknown entity.”
Hm. Apparently, the sound of her voice, combined with that attitude, did it for him just as much as the sight of her.
Interesting.
Resigned to his lustful fate, Samir allowed himself the luxury of meeting her eyes again. “Careful. You might hurt my feelings.”
She propped her elbows on the table, resting her face in her hands. He tried to avoid the swell of her cleavage, but… well, actually, no he didn’t. He didn’t try at all. “Oh dear,” she murmured archly. “I’d hate to hurt your feelings. You—”
Whatever the minx was about to say, it was interrupted by the obnoxiously low, rich rumble of an engine pulling into the driveway. Samir felt his brow crease just as an answering frown appeared on Laura’s face.
“Don’t get up,” he said. “I’ll see who it is.”
She ignored him, of course, rising with a soft groan and padding after him into the living room, whose curtain-covered bay windows looked out onto the drive. Samir pulled the cream fabric aside to find a huge, blue BMW sitting in the driveway. And then he heard Laura’s strangled intake of breath, felt her warmth slip away from him as she retreated.
“Get back,” she ordered, her voice clipped. “Now. He’ll see you.”
He dropped the curtain and turned to face her. “Who?”
But he already knew by the look on her face, by the colour of her skin, grey-toned and bloodless.
“Daniel,” she whispered. “Daniel’s here.”
Fury was such a cold word. Samir hadn’t always thought so—in fact, he’d never considered the word at all. Never found himself analysing its sound and texture and taste, or comparing it to the explosiveness of the emotion. But he was doing it right now because he had to concentrate on something to keep his sudden, burning anger in check.
Apparently, the knowledge that Daniel was within reach made his throttling hand really itchy.
But he couldn’t let Laura see that, not even a hint. So he swallowed down all of his rage and kept his voice calm and steady. “He knew you were here?”
“No,” she said, staring, wide-eyed, at the floor. As if searching for something. Her hands were cradled over her belly, her shoulders, always so proud, hunched protectively. “I—I only told Trevor and Hayley…” And then her eyes squeezed shut, heartbreaking resignation on her face. “Hayley. Fuck.”
He didn’t know how she’d react, but she looked so hopeless, so betrayed, so blindsided—he had to touch her. He approached slowly, at first, and she watched him with confusion on her face. As if she had no idea why he might possibly come toward her with his arms outstretched. As if he hadn’t held her