The Greek's Pregnant Cinderella. Michelle Smart
lips found hers in another crushing kiss and then he was exploring her, using his hands and mouth to cover her body, setting fire to her skin, melting her bones.
He lavished attention on breasts she had never suspected could be so sensitive and yet so receptive. He kissed her belly button, he kissed her sides...and then he tugged her knickers down and kissed her right in the core of her womanhood.
At the first touch of his tongue on her swollen nub she jerked wildly, sensation shooting through her.
Dear God...
One hand grasped his head, the other reaching up to grab a pillow.
Pleasure pooled thick and heavy deep within her and she instinctively lifted her bottom; instinctive, as the action came not from her brain.
Her brain had ceased to function on anything but a primitive level.
Her body had ceased to function on anything but a primitive level.
The only coherent thought in her head was Giannis’s name playing like a distant echo.
Only when he’d snaked his way back up her body, sheathed himself deftly and his mouth hovered over hers for another kiss, his hips lodged between her parted legs, his arousal hard at the top of her thigh, did she get the coherence to gasp, ‘Please be gentle.’
The lips that had been about to claim hers reared back, a question forming in the crease of his brow.
Suddenly afraid that the truth would put an abrupt end to this most magical of moments, she hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down to mould her mouth to his.
He kissed her back hungrily and shifted his hips so his erection was right where it needed to be.
And then he slid inside her damp heat. Slowly, deliberately slowly, stretching her, giving her the time to adjust and accommodate...
Her eyes flew open as a sharp pain seared through her, fleeting then dissolving...
And then she dissolved.
Her bones softened, her hips arched, she scraped her fingers into his head and parted her lips as he drove into her, the pleasure so intense that all she could do was cling to him and let him move inside her with long strokes, every thrust increasing the sensation, every groan from his lips against her ear feeding it.
He filled her completely. Perfectly.
A large hand skimmed roughly down her side and reached under her bottom, lifting her so their groins ground together, heightening the pleasure to a level that turned her into a mass of nerve endings.
Faster and harder he thrust into her, and faster and harder her hips bucked back, and all the while the sensation that had started life deep inside her spread until, without any warning, pleasure ripped through her, so intense that colour brighter and more explosive than any firework filled her.
It must have been enough to tip Giannis over the edge too for the fingers still holding her bottom clamped tightly on her flesh and his huge body tensed then shuddered.
Long moments later, he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily in her ear.
It took a long while for Tabitha’s world to right itself and for her heart to regain something that resembled a normal rhythm.
A delicious lethargy came over her. Her eyes closed and the world drifted away.
* * *
The sound of a door closing woke Tabitha with a start.
She sat bolt upright, horrified to find dusky light pouring through the bedroom window.
She looked at her watch and saw the time was six a.m.
No, no, no.
She was due to start work in an hour.
She strained her ears and heard the sound of a coffee machine working.
Giannis must be in the kitchen.
How long did she have to escape?
She cursed herself and tried her hardest to breathe but panic had set in.
Clutching her fuzzy head, she darted her gaze around the room, looking for her dress.
It was draped on the arm chair in the corner. Giannis must have put it there.
She swallowed back a surge of nausea and cursed herself again.
Stupid, idiotic, fool!
Bad enough she’d got so carried away with the romance of the evening and the undeniable yet fatal attraction that had sparked to life between her and Giannis to sleep with him in the first place, but to stay the whole night?
What complete and utter stupidity.
Her cheeks burned as she recalled them making love a second time...
She staggered off the bed and instinctively covered her nakedness.
She had never slept naked in her life!
Snatching the dress, she found his own masquerade costume beneath it, his black shirt at the top.
She debated for a nanosecond before pulling the shirt he hadn’t fully unbuttoned over her head and hurriedly pulled her knickers on, all the while thinking of the best way to escape, wishing she had paid more attention to the layout of the apartment when she’d had the chance.
But of course, she hadn’t paid attention. She’d been too drunk on the strange alchemy of Giannis and champagne to pay attention to anything.
Quickly she scanned her surroundings from the window. The grounds were empty of life but they wouldn’t be for long. Any minute an army of workers would be out there to clear up any mess revellers had made during the event.
She opened the window, threw her dress and shoes out of it, then squeezed herself out behind them.
Bare feet on the cold ground, she scooped her belongings into her arms and fled.
* * *
Giannis whistled as he poured the freshly brewed coffee into glass cups, placed them on a tray with milk and sugar and continued whistling as he made his way back to his bedroom where he’d left his enchantress sleeping.
He could not remember the last time he’d awoken in such a good mood. Years.
Could Tabitha be the one his sisters had been nagging him to find? He knew next to nothing about her but if she could afford a ticket to his ball, and that dress which must have cost more than the ticket, she obviously had wealth. She’d been educated at one of the UK’s finest boarding schools. And they had a chemistry that was off the scale.
He’d never known a night like it.
Whether Tabitha was the future Mrs Basinas or not, right then his intention was to bring her coffee and climb back into bed with her. He hoped she hadn’t made any plans. He’d already messaged his PA to inform her he wouldn’t be returning to Santorini that day and to rearrange his appointments.
Still whistling, he carried the tray to his bedroom and opened the door...
The bed was empty.
‘Tabitha?’ he called. She must be in the bathroom...
The bathroom door was open.
He placed the tray on his dresser and, as he did so, he noticed something else that had gone. Her ball gown.
Two minutes later, every room in the apartment searched, he returned to his bedroom perplexed and angry.
She had run out on him.
From the corner of his eye, something sparkly caught his eye.
He strode to the bed where the sparkly item was and found, on the pillow on which her exquisite head had rested, one of her earrings.
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