Not Just the Greek's Wife

chapter ELEVEN


CHLOE discovered how very right Takis was as they were shown into one of the hotel’s premier suites.

Not only was it richly appointed and impeccably decorated, but it was bigger than her apartment back in Oregon. The dining table had seating for six and the living area could have hosted a small party easily.

She let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Your grandfather certainly knows how to live in luxury, doesn’t he?”

“He worked hard to be where he is and his father before him. Should he book us into a motel?”

“I’m surprised you even know that there are motels in the city.” She wouldn’t have five years ago, when they’d first met and she’d known nothing of life beyond the pampered if lonely existence of her childhood.

“When I researched the hospitality industry before venturing into it, I made sure I looked at every type of accommodation available to suit every strata of society.”

“You’ve diversified into the hospitality industry?”

“I’d begun the move soon after our marriage. SSE now owns and operates a line of exclusive cruise ships.”

“You never told me about it.” Not that he’d made it a habit to discuss business with her, but he’d been far more free with information about SSE than her father had ever been about Dioletis Industries at home.

“I meant to name the ships after our children.”

“But we didn’t have any.”

“No.” He shrugged, the casual movement belying the regret in his eyes. “It was a grandiose idea considering the fact we had not even conceived a child yet when I commissioned the first two ships for building.”

“How many are in your fleet now?” she asked, unable to help the awe she felt at such a huge venture.

Cruise ships were like small cities. Building one would be a big enough endeavor—to have started his fleet with two had shown how committed he’d been to the enterprise.

“Ten. We have three different routes in the Mediterranean, all of which sail out of or land in Piraeus.”

“I’m not surprised. Greece is home, no matter what your passport says.”

He shook his head. “It was a solid business move.”

“Oh, yes?” she asked in a teasing tone, not really believing it.

“Very much so. Did you know that Greece took in more tourist dollars than any country in the EU last year?”

“No.” And she wouldn’t have expected it either.

“Where there is a will and a modicum of intelligence, there is always a way to make money.”

“Don’t tell my father that.”

“He knows my feelings on the subject. I told him investing in bonds and banks was foolish five years ago, but he did not listen to me.”

“So, what did you name the ships?” she asked, not really wanting to discuss her father’s business failings.

“They are named for the Greek gods of mythology.”

She smirked. “Not exactly original.”

“No, but popular with the guests.”

“Where do the rest of your fleet sail?”

“Two out of Amsterdam, one to Alaska, one to Hawaii, two in the Caribbean and one to Mexico out of L.A. We hope to commission three more ships next year.”

“What does your grandfather think of them?”

“He says they aren’t as pretty as our cargo ships, but they’ll do.”

She laughed, the sound so genuine, it startled her. “That sounds like him.”

This was what she and Ariston were like together. It wouldn’t be easy to remember that their compatibility didn’t mean they were destined to fall in love.

But they were good together and it didn’t hurt to remember that, too.

When he reached for her, she went to him without hesitation though. This was what they were good at. She and Ariston undressed each other, touching in ways they’d learned in the three years of marriage and the few times they’d been together intimately since then.

She led him toward the bed, her hand wrapped boldly around his erection.

“You are a temptress,” he offered gutturally as he pulled her back onto the soft mattress with him.

“Do I tempt you?” she asked as she stroked him up and down, her rhythm stuttering as his fingers found intimate places.

“Ne. More than any other woman ever has,” he ground out.

Then he burst into movement, rolling them over, so she was under him.

“We are even.”

He kissed her passionately and then moved down her body to torment each erogenous spot with his mouth, using lips, tongue and teeth to devastating effect.

She was getting lost in the pleasure but that wasn’t what she wanted right now. She needed to prove to him that in this they truly were equal, even if their emotions never would be.

She pushed at his chest. “Let me.”

“Let you what, yineka mou?”

“I want to touch and taste. It’s my turn.”

“But I am enjoying myself.”

“So, enjoy being tasted.”

Finally what she was offering must have clicked, because he rolled off her and offered himself with an alacrity she wasn’t sure she would have been capable of.

“I am at your disposal.” The remark would have been flip but for the husky quality to his voice.

“Thank you.”

“I am certain, sweet one, that it is I who will soon be thanking you. Profusely.”

She smiled and loved that he could still do that—make sex fun. Even after everything that had gone on between them.

She knelt between his thighs, rubbing against her own aching nipples, trying to soothe the need for his touch.

His nostrils flared and his eyelids dropped to half-mast. “You are so damn sexy.”

“Glad you think so.” She caressed his inner thighs with both hands, gently guiding his legs a little farther apart.

He bit off a sound of pleasure at that simple touch and satisfaction coursed through her. In this, he was hers.

She gently cupped his heavy scrotum sac with one hand, carefully rolling the balls as his shaft grew harder, pointing toward his stomach, viscous fluid beading at the tip.

“Is this still one of your favorite spots to be touched?” she wondered aloud as she slid her other fingers behind to caress his perineum.

The way his body jolted at the first light caress to the soft skin between the base of his balls and his backside said he did. She pressed in a little, looking for a bigger reaction and got it when he groaned long and low. “That feels so good.”

“I can tell.”

He smiled at her, pleasure warming the azure of his eyes.

“I know what will feel even better,” he hinted.

“So do I.” And with that, she dropped forward and placed an openmouthed kiss on the underside of his sex, just under the head.

It was the most sensitive spot on his penis and he used to go nuts when she would drag her teeth along it so lightly the touch was barely there.

“Please.” His husky tone went straight to her core.

She took the mushroom-shaped head into her mouth, hit with the familiarity of his taste in a visceral way she had not expected. Memories and feelings rushed through her, taking away her sense of time and the present. She enjoyed him in a way she had not done since seeing him again three weeks ago.

On purpose. She knew what doing this for him did to her. It was one of the few times he truly allowed himself to become vulnerable, that he let her direct the pleasure between them.

The way his hips moved, the sounds he made … it all melded together in her mind and her heart. She reveled in it, knowing he could not see the emotion pouring through her as she took him to the brink.

He tried to push her head away. “Stop. I can’t hold back,” he gasped out.

She wanted to ignore him, but he wouldn’t kiss her after if he came in her mouth. And she wanted the drugging kisses only he could give her.

She pulled back, crawling up his body. “I know you can hold it back until I come. After all, you are Ariston Spiridakou.”

“That may be, but still I am only a man.” His cerulean gaze was dark with need.

“Never say so,” she teased as her body taunted him with barely there entry.

“The condom,” he bit out.

She would have argued, but right then, a small barrier between them would be welcome. Keeping the deepest of her emotions locked down and holding back words of love was taking all the strength she could manage.

She concentrated on the task fully as she rolled the condom down his engorged flesh. He moaned and a small smile of satisfaction flirted at the corners of her mouth.

“I see that smile,” he said in an accusing tone.

She looked up, careful to keep her emotions from her eyes. “I like making you react.”

“I had noticed.” His expression was filled with feral intensity that she used to mistake for the beginnings of love.

She would not make that mistake this time around.

She crawled back up his body, seating him inside her in one downward thrust.

She cried out at the intensity of pleasure. So full and connected. She let her eyelids fall shut lest she reveal how profound this moment was to her.

The first time they’d made love—at least love for her—as a married couple in two years. It was beyond intense; it was earth-shattering.

He grabbed her hips, stopping her from moving. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak right then.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded.

That she could not do. She shook her head.

“Yes, yineka mou, give me the pleasure of seeing your pleasure in that beautiful emerald-green.”

“Feels too good,” she managed.

“Let me see.”

She just shook her head and started moving. His body went rigid under her and he moaned. “Stop.”

“No.” She made no attempt to establish a smooth rhythm, just moved up and down, feeding the bliss between them with ever-spiraling strength.

He thrust upward, his hold on her hips fighting her for control. She adjusted and moaned as ecstasy drew closer with each movement of their bodies.

He used his hold on her hips and the upward cant of his own hips to make sure his pelvis put pressure against her swollen *oris each time their bodies came fully together. She cried out as her climax built to unbearable heights. She was right on the edge and she could not go over.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded again.

This time she could do nothing but obey and at the look of atavistic lust in his eyes, felt herself soaring over the precipice. Her body convulsed as a sensual moan exploded out of her.

He gave one last, powerful thrust upward and then shouted as his body went rigid and his own climax took him, their gazes never breaking contact.

But when she felt words of love bubbling forth, she let herself fall forward, severing the tie between their souls before it revealed too much.

Ariston held his wife close to his body and listened to the soft sounds of her breathing.

The consummation of their marriage had been amazing, as had the very sexy bath that followed. She’d fallen asleep almost as soon as they’d climbed back into a freshly made bed.

He’d called housekeeping before following her into the luxurious bathroom complete with a whirlpool tub. His lovely wife had shown her appreciation for his thought-fulness with a very thorough kiss before tucking herself into his body and going boneless in rest.

He had not been so lucky. Sleep eluded him as memories of their lovemaking taunted him.

She’d been holding something back, a part of her he could not touch, no matter how intense the pleasure.

It brought back memories of the final months of their marriage and he realized one of the reasons he’d been so sure she wanted out was this distance she’d kept between them.

Distance that had not been there in the beginning.

He understood it even less now than he had before. Why keep part of herself back from him when he wanted it all? When at one point, she’d willingly given him everything? Though he did not believe in love, he did believe she’d thought herself in love with him in the beginning.

Something had changed though. He just did not know what.

He would have considered that it might have been another man, but she showed not even the slightest signs in that direction.

Chloe might have cheated their contract, but she was not an adulterer. Of that he was absolutely certain.

He was not the sort of man to compromise and had realized early in his marriage that he was far more possessive than he’d ever suspected. His need to be with her and know she preferred his company over any other had bothered him, made him feel weak.

Chloe didn’t flirt with other men though. She didn’t ask to spend weeks on shopping excursions in Europe as many wives in their set did, but she held something indefinable back.

And it raised that sense of possession, disturbing his equilibrium.

Until he knew why she felt that need … strike that, knowing why was not good enough. Until she gave him everything, held nothing back and did not seek to create distance between them, he would not be content.

She had developed more interests outside their time together in the last year of their marriage. She’d been less available to him and he had discovered he did not like that at all either.

Again, her desire to spend more time away from him had made it all the easier to believe Chloe didn’t want to be married to him in the first place, and had plotted to keep the relationship short-lived when he discovered the birth control.

His grandfather had told him to learn to live with it when Ariston had complained how much time Chloe’s outside interests seem to take from her. Pappous had said that she deserved to have her own life.

Ariston was busy enough with his work—she needed her own pursuits so she would not resent the time he spent with Spiridakou & Sons Enterprises.

Remembering that conversation, Ariston had taken steps to give Chloe what she needed, but now he wondered if he’d made a mistake buying her a New York art gallery. Would she use it as an excuse to spend more time away from him, maintaining the distance he hated and she seemed to want?

At least for the next ten days, he had no such worries. He’d arranged for them to sail on one of his cruise ships, a ten-day excursion in the Mediterranean.

Chloe had expressed interest in exploring the other, less populated islands of Greece, when they were married before. He knew she would enjoy this cruise.

He would just have to worry about whether to fess up to buying the gallery when they returned to New York—once they’d returned from their second honeymoon. Not that she would not learn the truth eventually.

The gallery was already in her name.

Until then, he would do his best to break down the wall she seemed intent on erecting between them.