A Greek Escape - By Elizabeth Power Page 0,39

sensuous fountain of her hair to caress him as her lips moved over the tautened flesh of his tight lean waist and her hands dealt tremblingly with the sheet.

He let out a deep shuddering gasp of anticipation. ‘Why did you come?’ he asked heavily.

‘I just thought that one good turn deserved another,’ Kayla whispered, feathering kisses over his tightly muscled abdomen. She didn’t know where she was finding the courage to seduce him like this. She only knew by instinct alone that he was a man who liked his women confident and worldly, not wimpish and nursing the old wounds of a previous relationship.

‘Close your eyes,’ she ordered softly, getting up.

Leonidas’s heart seemed to stop, and then thundered into life when she came back to the bed and straddled him. She was wearing a white top with a little red skirt that swirled about her thighs, and his mind whirled in a vortex of conflicting thoughts as he realised that she had obviously removed what she had been wearing underneath.

‘Kayla. Stop this…’ He wasn’t sure whether he’d spoken the words or whether they were just buzzing feverishly through his brain.

‘Why? Is it too early for you?’ Kayla teased, excitement driving her even as her mind raced with interminable doubts.

Was she carrying things too far? Didn’t he like a woman taking the initiative? He was more down to earth and unfettered by convention than any man she had ever met. He didn’t want a woman who was anything but what he was. Not someone weighed down with emotional baggage; someone who didn’t know her own mind.

Beneath her Leonidas shivered as he felt her sliding down his body, the moist heat of her searing his skin like a molten poultice.

‘Dear—!’ He swallowed the profanity, his breathing laboured, his body on fire. He had to stop this! But as her soft mouth took possession of him his senses spun into chaos.

He had never felt so powerless, and yet at the same time so shamelessly empowered. His body was a temple of pleasure at which this amazing woman was worshipping.

He felt his size increase and harden like burning, quivering steel. His body was taut as a bow, holding back the flaming arrow it needed to release before it consumed him in its raging inferno.

He fought to contain it, the struggle almost overwhelming him. And just when he thought he had won the battle she slid along his length, positioning herself above him to take him into her.

He tried to pull back, but he was powerless to do anything but push against her slick hot wetness, groaning in defeat as he allowed himself the freedom to let her do whatever she would.

Looking down at him, Kayla registered the rapturous agony on his face, that line of pained pleasure between his closed lids. It lent him a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before—one that called to everything in her that was soft and feminine and tender—and yet she felt powerful too. She was in control and glorying in it, dominating the pace and the depth and the rhythm. That was until she heard the guttural masculine groan when he suddenly clamped his hands over her hips and pushed harder and more determinedly into her.

The depth of penetration dragged a small cry of ecstasy from her lips. She felt the explosion of his seed deep within her and started to climax almost instantaneously.

It was the most fulfilling experience of her life.

They were both breathing heavily when she collapsed, wet and gasping, against the warm damp cushion of his chest, and then he was rolling her round so that she was lying pressed close to his side.

‘What was all that about?’ he quizzed, as soon as he could speak again. His breathing was still heavy and laboured.

Kayla wasn’t sure whether there was disapproval in his husky tones. ‘Didn’t you like it?’ she enquired, almost diffidently.

‘Of course I liked it!’ he shot back, his voice incredulous. ‘But right now I’m not sure whether to applaud you for your resourcefulness or to paddle that pretty bare bottom of yours and send you packing back to Philomena’s.’

‘Why?’ An uneasy line pleated Kayla’s brows as she lay facing him with her hair wildly dishevelled. ‘Do Greek men always have to be the dominant partner?’ She was beginning to feel hurt and embarrassed.

‘No. But whoever chooses to be should take responsibility for what they’re doing. Is there any chance that you could be pregnant after that delightful little escapade?’

‘Of course not! I’m not that