Her Wedding Night Surrender (Harlequin Presents) by Clare Connelly

Author:Clare Connelly [Connelly, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781335419293
Amazon: 1335419292
Publisher: Harlequin Presents
Published: 2018-03-19T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

HER BODY THROBBED in an unusual new way. She stretched in bed, and wondered at the strangeness of everything. Not just her body, but the smells that enveloped her. Sort of citrus and lavender, clean and fresh. And the sounds—or lack of sounds. No busy motorways or bustle of a nearby city.

Her eyes blinked open, big pools of gold in the darkened room—dark save for the flickering of a couple of candles and the glow of a laptop screen beside her.

‘Ciao.’

His voice was a warm breath across her body. She looked up at Pietro—her husband...her lover—and a lazy smile curved her lips.

‘I had the strangest dream,’ she murmured, pushing up onto one elbow so that the duvet fell from her body, uncovering her breasts for his proprietorial inspection.

He dropped his eyes to the display, unashamed of enjoying her nakedness. ‘Are you sure it was a dream?’ he prompted, folding his laptop closed and placing it carelessly on the bedside table nearest to him.

‘It must have been,’ she said softly. ‘It was too perfect to be anything else.’

She was so beautifully unsophisticated. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman who didn’t dissemble in some way. Her honesty was as refreshing as her body was tempting.

He brought his frame over hers, so large against her slender fragility that Emmeline couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence. As though nothing and no one could hurt her if he was by her side.

The thought evaporated when his lips touched hers, his kiss perfection in the midst of her body’s awakening.

‘I want you again,’ he said.

Her smile was broad. ‘Good.’

He dropped his eyes for a moment. Something was clearly bothering him.

‘I want you too,’ she reassured him.

His laugh was a kernel of sound—a husk in the night. ‘I hated seeing you with those men.’

She blinked, having no idea at first who he was talking about. Then, ‘I was just talking.’

‘I know that.’ His smile was self-deprecating. ‘It is possible that I overreacted.’

She burst out laughing. ‘Is that some kind of extremely hesitant apology?’

He ran a hand over her hair, stroking its dark glossy length thoughtfully. ‘Yes.’

‘Apology accepted. But, Pietro? You can’t really expect me never to speak to another man...’

‘Lo so. I know.’

‘Good. Because I came to Rome to find my feet—to be myself. I can’t do that with you getting all shouty every time I have an innocent conversation with someone...’

‘I know.’

He lifted himself up and straddled her, the strength of his want for her evidenced by the rock-hard arousal that was already pressed against her abdomen.

‘But I will bring you to my bed each night and make it impossible for you to even think of another man.’

He dropped his head, placing a kiss on her temple.

‘I will be all you think of and your body will crave mine.’

He thrust into her without warning and she cried out at the sweetness of his invasion, the possession that she was already hooked on.

‘Starting now.’

‘Starting a couple of hours ago,’ she corrected breathily.

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