Princess From the Shadows by Maisey Yates

Author:Maisey Yates
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

SEX was always good for Rodriguez. It was something he’d used, from a very early age, to escape from the world. To get lost in feelings that were purely good, so that he could block out a recent beating he’d received from his father’s hand, or a verbal assault that had flayed him from the inside out.

But sex was never like this. It had never been about giving with no thought to what he might get back. Though Carlotta had given back more than he’d ever experienced before, it hadn’t been his primary objective.

It hadn’t even entered his mind.

Their bodies had simply worked together. The give and take so perfect and rewarding. He had been lost in her. In the touch of her hands, her taste, her scent. He could have lavished her with attention all night and not been satisfied. Not wholly.

That was another new and unique aspect. This sort of strange, bone-deep fulfillment that made him feel both sated and in need of more.

But not now. Now Carlotta was wrapped around him, her breath deep, warm and moist across his chest.

And he didn’t feel trapped, or crowded, or anything he’d thought he might feel sleeping in the same bed with a woman.

He’d never, ever slept with a lover in the pure, literal sense of the word.

He was up and gone after sex. It was just the sort of liaison he conducted, the kind he was comfortable with. And he made sure he pursued women who wanted the same sort of arrangement.

He didn’t want anyone in his life, only between the sheets. He’d managed to make it to twenty-nine without ever sharing a bed with a woman for the express purpose of what a bed had been built for.

He liked it. The warm weight of her on his chest, liked stroking his hand over her sleek, dark hair. And really enjoyed taking advantage of running his other hand over her bare curves, her skin silken beneath his fingertips.

Carlotta’s body jerked and she pushed herself up partway. “Oh!”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she whimpered, putting her hand over her face and scrubbing at it for a moment. “What time is it?”

He craned his neck behind them. “Six-thirty.” And he hadn’t slept at all. He’d simply lain there, dissecting the events of the night, enjoying being with her.

“Oh, no,” she said, moving into a sitting position. “Luca will be up in a bit.”

“Let Angelina get him.”

“He comes in looking for me sometimes,” she said, her voice thick from sleep. “I need to go back to my room.”

A strange flash of something sharp and hot stabbed him in the gut. Was he jealous of a five-year-old? Impossible. And ridiculous.

Why was he arguing? He didn’t need to sleep with her. They’d had sex. And that was what having a woman in his bed was all about. Yes, it had been nice to have her with him, but there was no reason for it to feel essential that she stay.

But he sat up with her, unwilling to lie back down if she was getting up.

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