What The Greek's Wife Needs - Dani Collins Page 0,53
buttocks as he palmed her curves.
“This is terrible,” she said, coming back to awareness of where they were. “We shouldn’t be doing this here.”
“Do you want to wait?” His eyes met hers and his wicked fingertip swept beneath her thong, teasing the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her sex.
She shuddered in pleasure, her voice catching as she admitted, “No.” She couldn’t wait another second.
“Good.” He moved the placket aside. “Eyes open,” he reminded her huskily, then guided himself, seeking and pressing.
“Leon,” she sighed as he began to breach her. He rocked lightly in small thrusts that took him a little deeper with each one.
“Battle conditions, lovely,” he said as he coaxed inexorably for her to take all of him. “Fast and quiet.” He held her gaze as he leaned forward to press his open mouth against her nape. His hand slipped in the front of her underwear again. “Can you do that?”
“No. Yes. Leon,” she moaned softly.
He played with her, making pleasure spike upward. Making her dance her hips back into his, urging him to move.
He did, and the friction was as inciting as it was rough.
She wanted to close her eyes so bad. This was too intimate, but she needed the visual connection as much as the physical. Needed to see him come undone even as her own vision blurred, eyes dampening as her arousal increased.
She bit back her most lurid noises, but couldn’t help pushing her hips back into his, wanting the subdued slam that seemed to reverberate joyous sensations through her whole body. When they were like this, nothing else mattered. They were perfectly, utterly aligned.
“Tell me when,” he said in a jagged voice.
“Now. I’m ready. I’m... Now,” she gasped as her climax rose up to engulf her.
The heel of his palm stayed firm against her mound as his other hand took hold of her shoulder. He thrust hard and fast a few more times before he held himself deep inside her while his whole body shuddered.
He pulsed and throbbed within her, teeth clenched. His cheeks flushed dark, and his glittering gaze kept possession of her own.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“DON’T WE HAVE to go back?” Tanja asked when Leon drew her from the powder room and out his mother’s doors toward the elevator.
“No.” Leon knew he sounded like a Neanderthal, but his heart was still unsteady and, despite his powerful orgasm, his throat tight. He couldn’t stop hearing Tanja’s distressed I can’t do this.
She had hurried to tidy her makeup, but she was pale beneath her flush of culmination. Her gaze on him as they entered the elevator was apprehensive.
He reassured her the only way he knew how, by dragging her close and kissing her until she melted. When he lifted his head, the wariness in her eyes was replaced with golden lights of yearning, the ones that urged him closer. Invited him to touch and hold her.
That’s what he needed to ease this monster inside him. That quiet surrender of herself to him.
When they entered his penthouse, Valerie poked her head from the kitchen in surprise.
“Call my mother. Let her know Tanja is unwell,” he said.
“Of course. May I get you anything?”
“I’m fine,” Tanja murmured, sending him a doleful look for his lie.
“You’ve been unwell,” he justified as he steered her down the hall. “And you weren’t enjoying it.”
“What exactly are you referring to?”
His mouth twitched and his tension eased. If she was making jokes, they were okay.
He had heard himself in her compulsion to flee, though. He had done the same thing for years, absenting himself from Greece however he had to. It had hit him hard that she wanted to flee him in that same way—as if he was causing her the emotional angst he had endured through his childhood.
They checked on a sleeping Illi and Tanja told the nanny she could leave for the evening. She brought the baby monitor into the master bedroom with them.
“I feel bad for ducking out on your mother,” she said as they undressed. “Cowardly.”
“Don’t.”
“Leon—”
“No, listen.” He yanked his shirt from his trousers. “You should have had this life all along.” He waved at the professionally decorated room with its satin drapes and silk area rug and bamboo sheets. “Get used to it because this is your life now, even after our divorce.”
“But I don’t want—”
“Tanja! I was pretending when we married. I pretended it didn’t matter that I wasn’t taking it seriously. That it was okay to leave you with nothing. Let me fix that much.”
She