The Greek's Hidden Vows

by Maya Blake

  ‘Before we indulge in that though...dinner?’ he asked, his voice low, deep and throbbing with the same sensation surging through her.

  She turned from the pleasurable sight to see a table for two set with a white tablecloth, sterling silverware gleaming under candlelight. Beside their table stood a small buffet stand with a dozen domed dishes placed on it.

  While she knew she couldn’t...shouldn’t read anything into it, Alexis couldn’t stop the lump lodging in her throat, or her fingers from curling tightly around his when Christos tugged her towards the table.

  It was all far too much. She wanted to step back, gather the crumbling pieces of her armour, in case she needed it later, after the magic wore away. But she suspected it was already too late.

  She watched him when he moved. Stared into his face when he spoke to her. Allowed her fingers to linger on his when he passed her a glass of perfectly chilled Chablis.

  And when he touched on the subject she usually never discussed, she tensed for a very brief moment before she swallowed and answered.

  ‘Tell me how you ended up at Hope House.’

  The rush of pain that came with her truth never failed to steal her breath. ‘I never knew my mother. She left me on the doorstep of Hope House’s high-street charity shop when I was a week old. The nuns from the orphanage took me in.’

  His face froze, his eyes burning with an unholy blaze that sent agitation skittering over her skin. The blaze abated and he breathed out. ‘I didn’t mean to resurrect what must be a...painful memory for you.’

  ‘You didn’t know. As you can imagine, it’s not information I toss into everyday conversation.’

  His nod was abrupt. ‘Did you ever try to find her or your father?’

  She shook her head. ‘All I have is a handwritten note left for whoever found me, a request that I be named Alexis, and a blanket I was wrapped in. Not much to go on.’

  Incisive eyes rested on hers. ‘And if you had further resources? Would you wish to probe deeper?’

  Her heart lurched, then lodged in her throat. ‘I’ve thought about it. I’ve never been quite able to decide if I’m better off not knowing or risking being further hurt by whatever reason she had for leaving me there.’

  His sensual lips twisted and his gaze dropped to his glass before rising to meet hers again. ‘Perhaps you won’t see it this way, but there is a deeper pride in knowing that whatever you’ve become has been without either of your parents’ influence.’

  There was a hard edge in his voice that suggested a personal pain. One that echoed inside her but for the opposite reason. ‘I guess that’s where the conundrum lies. Would I prefer the choice of knowing or living with an...emptiness?’

  He reached across the table, covered her hand for a moment before he sat back. ‘The former might not necessarily bring the closure you wish for. Knowing my parents still left me with more questions than answers. As harsh as it seems, perhaps you’re better off not knowing?’

  ‘How did you...?’ She paused because she wasn’t sure he’d got over his parents’ treatment of him. ‘Don’t you wonder how things could’ve turned out if you’d tried to reconcile with them?’

  His lips compressed. ‘No. They made their choice. I had to make mine. If onlys become weights that just drag you down eventually.’

  ‘So your advice is just...live with this emptiness?’

  ‘No, matia mou. My advice is to become the best version of yourself you can be so that when you find yourself in a similar position, you have better options.’

  Anguish moved through her. ‘I don’t think I could abandon my child under any circumstances.’

  Something flashed in his eyes, making her insides tighten. ‘Then you’re already a thousand times better than the mother who left you with no explanation,’ he said, his voice gravel-rough.

  That tightening moved up her chest and into her throat. Stupid tears prickled her eyes and she desperately blinked them away, registering that her pain had receded, perhaps had even shrunk smaller than ever.

  ‘I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re so fearsome,’ she joked, striving to lighten the atmosphere before her emotions got the better of her.

  He took her cue and sent her a devastating smile that produced a much more pleasurable ache inside her. ‘Fearsome has its advantages, as long as it gets me what I want.’ Eyes heavy with lust watched her as she toyed with the stem of her glass.

  Perhaps she knew she was straying into dangerous territory by probing, but she couldn’t stop the question. ‘Tell me when you last brought another woman here, to this cave. Or did any of this.’ She waved her hand around the spectacular setting. The last rays of the sun tinged the sky a deep bold orange, enough to make the sea look as if it were on fire. Enough to make this the kind of paradise very few people got to experience. The kind of paradise that made foolish wishes seem attainable.

  He looked almost...startled by her bold question. ‘Do you want me to tell you you’re special, Alexis? Is that it?’

  Yes. ‘Would that be so bad? I am your wife, after all,’ she said, then felt something profound move deep within her.

  Something echoed in his eyes too, making them widen momentarily before he reasserted his control. But she’d seen it. And, however fleeting, it had planted a seedling inside her, one she couldn’t shake free.

  ‘Not in every sense of the term. Not yet...’ he drawled. They both knew he’d evaded the question, but the potential magnitude of a proper answer suddenly had her shying away from it.

  But even while they returned to simpler, more benign subjects, heavy emotional undercurrents swirled until he rose and held out his hand in silent demand.

  They were still there when she kicked off her stylish mules and reclined on the wide divan set before the screen. Perhaps it was the wine that had mellowed her tongue. She couldn’t resist looking up into the stars, contentment stealing over her at the sound of the waves hitting the shore.

  ‘I can’t tell you how long I’ve dreamed of doing this on some distant beach in the Maldives or Tahiti.’

  ‘It would please me if you’d accept the much simpler venue of a Greek beach,’ he replied, a trace of amusement in his tone.

  She gave a delicate snort. ‘Are you kidding me? Nowhere on my wish list was there a cave of wonders on a private island tossed in for good measure. This far surpasses everything the travel brochures promised.’

  The pop of a cork refocused her attention on him. In the dancing candlelight, he was truly drop-dead gorgeous, the kind of fallen-angel masculine beauty that had the ability to stop hearts and overcome even the strongest apprehension.

  Not that she had much of that left. Only the merest wisp of residue still urged her towards self-preservation. But even that was silenced when he smiled and handed her a crystal flute of vintage champagne.

  When she accepted it, he aimed the remote at the projector that stood twenty feet away. Then passed her a silver bowl that made her gasp. Again.

  ‘Caramel popcorn? Now you’re scaring me a little with how much you know about me.’

  That ferocious gaze raked her body, then rested blatantly on her mouth. ‘I told you, I am serious about the things that are important to me.’

  He meant his possession of Drakonisos. She knew that. Yet that traitorous melting sensation continued unabated. Until her every sense strained towards him, eager to please. Eager to take whatever he had to give.

  She chose the movie and smiled as it flicked to life. It was a classic she’d seen a dozen times. But here, now, in this special place, she was swept away anew.

  Until she felt him wrap a strand of hair around his fingers. Until that scent of leather, bergamot and man twined insidiously around her senses, making each breath she took a tiny exercise in torture. Until her heart drummed loudly in her ears, deafening her to everything but the sound of her own need, po
unding relentlessly through her.

  Despite the open beach and endless sky, he invaded the space, his vitality a living force field. Vibrant and inescapable.

  ‘Something wrong, Alexis?’ he drawled, when she fidgeted one more time.

  She took a gulp of her champagne just for something to do. His fingers drifted over her nape. She shivered, tried to contain herself.

  ‘Christos.’ His name was a breathless, urgent whisper in the night air.

  ‘Ne? Tell me what you want and you shall have it,’ he urged thickly. The designer stubble he’d cultivated over the last few days added a swagger to his already deadly good looks and when he brushed his cheek against her jaw, it drove her insane.

  On the screen, the actors were caught in a melodramatic clinch; the very same one she yearned for. ‘I can’t wait. Please,’ she whispered.

  The flash of triumph in his eyes should’ve irritated her. But she was beyond that. So she let him tug her glass from her hand and set it aside. Let him cup her jaw, stare deep into her eyes, then slowly lean in to brush his lips over hers.

  The moment she started to cling, he drew away. With leonine grace he rose to his feet and swept her up into his arms. His strides from the beach into the cave held an urgency that echoed within her.

  Alexis forgot to breathe as he set her down next to the bed, those ferociously brooding eyes watching her as he reached for the simple band that held up her hair. He gave a grunt of satisfaction as her hair tumbled free, lazily threading his fingers through the heavy mass.

  ‘Tonight, I get to watch your glorious hair cascade over my pillow,’ he said thickly. ‘I get to claim you in the way I’ve craved instead of watching you from my side of the bed.’

  The unabashed possessiveness in his voice sent excitement dancing over her flesh. He caught her shiver and gave a smile tinged with predatory pleasure. ‘No more hugging pillows for you, matia mou.’

  With that decree, he tugged the thin straps of her dress down her arms. The flimsy material pooled at her waist. Christos kept his gaze on her face as he reached behind her and slowly unhooked her lacy bra, flinging it away before his gaze dropped to her breasts.

  She watched him swallow.

  Emboldened by her effect on him, Alexis stepped forward, reached for the buttons of his white shirt, her eagerness to explore him too a heady rush that couldn’t be stopped. She only managed to bare his glorious torso halfway before she slid her hands inside, gliding them over his sculpted chest. Muscles rippled beneath her touch, his hot skin a decadent invitation she wasn’t going to refuse.

  Alexis didn’t register that she’d swayed closer until her nipples brushed his hair-dusted chest. Her aroused whimper brought another smug smile to his face.

  ‘Perhaps you should finish what you started so you can have more of what you crave?’ he suggested a touch mockingly.

  On a wild whim—and perhaps because she wanted to wipe away a layer of that smugness—she grasped the edges of his shirt and pulled them apart.

  For a single moment, he tensed. Then flames leapt higher in his eyes. With an animalistic growl, Christos shrugged off the tattered remains of his shirt, then, reaching forward, yanked down her dress. She’d barely stepped out of it before he pulled her close, his lips finding hers with an urgency and fervour she wholeheartedly endorsed. With a mastery that roused every nerve ending to life, Christos stroked and teased, feasted and delivered pleasure she’d never experienced before.

  When his large hands slipped into her panties and cupped her bottom, she moaned, her thighs growing slicker in readiness for his possession. Her fingers dug into his hair as their kiss grew even more frenzied, their bodies straining together in carnal need.

  The rough sound of lace ripping drew another whimper, the firm tug of her destroyed panties almost making her swoon as he yanked them free and tossed them aside.

  ‘Turnabout is fair play,’ he growled. Then he was plucking her off the floor and settling her firmly in the middle of the bed.

  With barely bridled patience, she watched him reach for his trousers. Heart pounding, she followed the hand lowering his zipper. Moments later he was naked.

  Her mouth dried as she struggled to take in his sheer magnificence. Muscles, sleek and powerful, flowed in perfect symmetry, a body without a spare inch of flab culminating in the impressive, jaw-dropping sculpture of his aroused manhood.

  One sleek lunge and he was beside her, his hand on her hip drawing her close before arranging her beneath him.

  For the longest time, Christos stared down at her without speaking, that torturous caress up and down her body driving her steadily insane as his eyes pinned her to the bed.

  When she tried to raise her head, eager to kiss him, he drew back.

  ‘Not yet. A few rules first.’

  She slicked her tongue over needy lips. ‘Wh-what?’

  ‘I want to see your beautiful eyes at all times, glykia mou,’ he stated roughly, one hand cupping her breast and mercilessly torturing her nipple. ‘And when I’m deep inside you, the only word from your lips will be my name. You can choose to whisper it or scream it. But I want to hear it.’

  He lowered his head and flicked the tip of his tongue across her nipple, and stars burst across her vision. ‘Christos...’

  ‘Ne, just like that,’ he growled, then sucked the tight peak into his mouth.

  Pleasure arched her back, her fingers spiking through his hair to hold him close as the madness encroached further.

  The hooded gaze he kept on her as he explored her flesh added a decadent edge to her pleasure. Pleasure that intensified even more when he trailed his lips down her body.

  Her eyes widened and her heartbeat doubled when she realised what he meant to do. ‘Christos...?’

  His answer to that hesitant question was to decisively draw her thighs apart, trail his stubbled jaw over the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, all while those infernal eyes devoured her every expression. And just when she was certain her heart would beat itself straight through her ribs, he lowered his head and delivered the most carnal of kisses.

  Her sharp cry echoed in the cave, the sound lingering for an age as if to impress upon her what was happening.

  ‘Thee mou,’ he muttered roughly. ‘You taste exquisite.’

  Her every last thought melted away, her full attention centred on the sublime pleasure he delivered. Over and over he tortured and teased, until her vision hazed. Until she screamed as bliss smashed through her in the most sublime climax she’d ever experienced.

  Her breath was still choppy and her body trembling with aftershocks when he captured her wrists, kissed her palms, before caressing his way back up her body.

  Peripherally, she saw him reach for a condom, tear it open and glide it on.

  The heavy, delicious weight of him sharpened her focus, her eager gaze devouring every inch of him as he settled between her thighs.

  ‘Christo, you have a body to rival Aphrodite herself,’ he declared, his face a taut mask of arousal. ‘I can’t wait to claim you.’

  ‘Then don’t wait,’ she replied, fresh hunger urging her to wind her arms around his neck, her body eager and open. He’d already introduced her to oral pleasure for the first time. Despite the faint but lingering voice of caution, she was desperate for more. To hoard as much of this experience as she could.

  Because it wouldn’t last? She shied away from the answer.

  ‘Your breasts are a work of art,’ he rasped huskily, before bestowing more kisses on them.

  Just when she was on the verge of begging for more, he reared up onto one elbow. Alexis held her breath as his hand slid down between their bodies, and she felt his broad head brush her feminine place.

  The lock of hair falling over his forehead didn’t diminish the fierceness of the gaze pinning her in place as, with one sure, powerful stroke, he entered her.


  ‘Christos!’

  ‘Yes, yineka mou. My name on your lips while I take you...again and again,’ he rasped, jaw locked tight as he inhaled audibly.

  For the longest suspended moment, he held himself inside her. Then, when a whimper finally broke from her, he withdrew and thrust back inside.

  Raw, unfettered pleasure unravelled from her core. She was unaware her fingers dug into his shoulders until he hissed in pleasure. ‘That’s it, Alexis. Mark me. Show me what I do to you.’

  It was as if she’d been uncaged and handed the keys to nirvana. She wrapped her legs around him, raised her head and claimed his mouth in a shockingly carnal kiss as he increased the tempo.

  Dear God, she’d never felt anything like it. Suspected she never would again. But that was an issue for another day. The moment hot torrid Greek words started falling from his lips, she gave up the need to hold back. She met him thrust for thrust, his turbulent eyes and the hand locked on her hip urging her higher and higher until pleasure exploded in a shower of lights.

  Her raw scream bounced off the walls before returning to wrap itself around them, as Christos locked both hands in her hair. Despite his thrusts slowing, the intensity of his lovemaking remained. She realised why when, after she’d caught half her breath back, he delivered another tongue-tangling kiss, raised his head and commanded roughly, ‘Again. I want to feel you come again.’

  * * *

  Thee mou, she was like a drug. One he couldn’t resist. Not that he wanted to in that moment.

  She was an amazing revelation, even more so than he’d anticipated based on their chemistry alone.

  For starters, there was that curious mixture of shy and bold, of innocence and carnal greed; it was a lit fuse to his libido. He’d seen her reaction to his pleasuring of her with his mouth, felt her quiet shock and knew she’d either never experienced it before or had found any previous attempt sorely lacking. Her subsequent reactions had given credence to this suspicion. Whatever she’d shared with previous lovers, it had not been the real thing.