Her retreat.
Her own very private space, shared with no-one.
Until this moment.
Her hand shook as she tried to fit the key in the lock, and Luca took it from her and opened the door, then picked her up in his arms and lifted her over the threshold as if she was a bride.
Too late now to listen to the voice in her head telling her to step back because this was all wrong—so very wrong.
That there could be no future with this man who was offering her only the transient pleasure of the moment.
And—most of all—that she didn’t do things like this—and never had.
That there would be a price to be paid which she could not afford.
Then his lips took hers and the voice was silenced.
They were lying together on the bed, naked, in the warm golden light slanting across the bed from the shuttered window.
The few clothes they’d been wearing had been tossed aside like leaves in a breeze as Luca had undressed her and then himself between kisses, his hands moving over her uncovered skin as if he was touching the delicate petals of a flower.
He pulled her closer, his kiss deepening as his tongue sought hers, thrusting into the sweetness of her mouth with sensual urgency, astonishing her with the swift glory of her response, her hands clasping his shoulders, twining round his neck, stroking his thick dark hair.
Learning every smooth, supple line of him.
Unable, it seemed, even in those first moments, to get enough of him as if a lifetime’s waiting was ending at last.
Knowing, too, that, whatever pain still waited for her, there could be no turning back.
His hands moved downwards, his fingers moulding the swell of her breasts, teasing the rosy peaks to lift to the voluptuous caress of his mouth, making the breath sigh from her parted lips as he suckled her gently.
She had not known until now that her entire body could sing to the slow, languorous glide of a man’s hands and lips exploring her.
That there would be excitement to be discovered in the arch of her throat, the softness of her underarms and the inner hollow of her elbow.
That his slow traverse of her spinal column would make her rear blindly against him, gasping, or that she would moan with pleasure as he cupped her small, firm buttocks and traced the slender line of her flanks.
But then no-one had touched her like this before, or whispered soft words of desire against the newly awakened eagerness of her untutored flesh.
Nor had she experienced the tip of a tongue seeking the whorls of her ear, or teeth nibbling gently at its lobe.
Her thighs had never parted, as they were doing now, welcoming the heated arousal of her lover’s erection pressed between them.
She reached down to find him, her fingertips stroking the silken length of the engorged male shaft in a kind of wonderment, as she felt his whole body quiver in responsive delight, making her realise that her need was shared—equalled.
And that it was too late to remind herself that it was only a temporary delight.
That there could be no future in this.
None.
His fingers were moving on her too, gently, exquisitely igniting new sensations, as he sought her tiny hidden pinnacle, bringing it to aching, swollen, delicious life, making her whimper, wordlessly, pleadingly against his shoulder as her body lifted to the delicate torment of his caress.
She was instantly aware of his touch changing, intensifying, drawing her inexorably into some blind, mindless region of the senses.
Holding her there on an unknown brink for a breathless eternity before releasing her into a throbbing, soaring agony of pleasure.
And her body was still shaking from the last lingering tremors of rapture when he lifted himself over her, entering her, filling her with total completeness, then sliding his hands under her hips and raising her towards him in a silent command to lock her legs round his waist.
As he began to move slowly and rhythmically inside her, Ellie found herself remembering another time, another place, another man.
Recalling the feelings, the instincts she’d so deliberately denied herself then, but allowing them free rein now because it was all so incredibly, indescribably different.
Letting herself mirror every strong, powerful thrust, answering his demands with her own, her entire being alive and enthralled by the unexpected potential of her awakened sexuality.
Feeling her inner muscles close round him then release.
Hearing him groan in husky satisfaction at her response—at this mutual and glorious attuning of their bodies.
Clinging to his sweat-slicked shoulders, as her mouth drank from his with eager, entranced delight.
I never dreamed … The only coherent thought that came to her as their bodies rose and fell together.
I never dreamed.
Yet this was no dream.
This was stark and beautiful reality, as inevitable as her next flurried breath.
What I was born for …Luca was moving faster now, driving more deeply into her hot, wet sheath, and Ellie could feel a strange, sweet tension building within her like a fist slowly clenching.
A small, aching sound was forced from her throat as she stared up, eyes widening, at the man above her, dark against the sunlight, the sensations he was creating spiralling relentlessly out of control.
Carrying her away on the scalding tide of his desire.
Then, as the first harsh spasm tore through her and she dissolved into shuddering helpless ecstasy, she cried out, her voice breaking on his name and heard him answer her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN THE WORLD finally stopped reeling, Ellie found she was lying in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest, as he gently stroked the damp hair back from her forehead.
There were a thousand questions teeming in her mind, but the warm aftermath of passion was being superseded by a sudden agony of shyness at the memory of her abandoned surrender, and she knew she could ask none of them.
He must have sensed her growing tension because he said softly, ‘Is all well with you, mia bella? I did not—hurt you?’‘No—oh, no.’ She hesitated then said on a little rush of words, ‘I just—didn’t realise—didn’t know …’‘And now that you do?’ He tilted her chin, raising her face for his kiss.
Caressing her lips with his until she relaxed back into his embrace.
‘You have no regrets I hope?’‘No,’ Ellie said slowly.
‘I’ll never have those—whatever happens.’‘Even when I have to leave you?’ His hand slid down to clasp the curve of her hip.
There was a heartbeat of silence, then she said, ‘Are you planning to go?’‘At some moment, sì.’ There was a smile in his voice.
‘Naturalmente, I have to return to my hotel to change my clothes, mia cara, in order to take you to dinner.’ He kissed her again.
‘But not immediately,’ he murmured against her lips, his hand moving with quiet purpose.
‘No,’ she whispered back.
‘Not immediately.’ And gave herself up to the renewed joy of his touch.
The slow delicious establishment of a need as passionate as it was mutual.
A reaching out to each other that somehow transcended the purely physical, as it carried them to the sweet agony of orgasm, and as Ellie rested in its honeyed aftermath, she realised there were tears on her face.
Afterwards, she made coffee, black and strong, and as she carried the cups into the living room, she found him, fresh from the shower, a towel draped round his hips, studying her laptop and the files beside it.
He turned to look at her, his slow smile reminding her of what had just happened between them under the warm cascade of water, and a wave of heat enveloped her.
‘You work here?’ His brows lifted.