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The Astronomer

Page 16

by Charmaine Pauls


  “Urgh!” Fraya jumped up. “I don’t want to hear this, Ana.”

  “Sorry.” Ana grinned. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about as you’re the one who finally chained him in mating vows.”

  Fraya managed a half-hearted smile.

  Ana took her arm. “Let’s go hunt for those drinks Emilio promised. And then we’ll talk about where to shop over dinner. Sorry I just invited myself like this. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re always coming around uninvited. If not, we’ll never see Emilio. Still, I should have asked, called, seeing that you’re now in charge of the house.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Fraya said. “Nothing is going to change. You’re his family.”

  “And yours,” Ana said, hugging Fraya tight again. “Wonderful. I’m so happy if you’re not bothered. We’re a really close family.”

  “I’ve gathered,” Fraya said, not meaning it nastily, but a little off balance from the information Ana had shared.

  They walked into the house arm in arm, and for the first time in her life Fraya felt like drinking a whole bottle of wine to get her through dinner.

  * * * *

  Emilio watched Fraya tightly throughout the dinner. She had changed into a white, halter neck dress on which he had complimented her, but she had taken her seat next to him without acknowledging him. She had hardly said a word to anyone. Mauricio had pitched too, and Isabella and Romero. He wasn’t sure if it was the information about Gene, or something Ana had said to Fraya that had affected her mood. She avoided his eyes, and seemed withdrawn. She even had one glass of wine too many, something he knew was out of character for her.

  When she reached for her glass again, he folded his hand over hers. “I think you’ve had enough,” he said in her ear.

  She pushed those delicious breasts of hers in his direction and gave him a look that made him want to spank her.

  “I’m a big girl,” she said, her voice low enough for only him to hear. “Afraid I’ll embarrass you?”

  “No. I still want you and I won’t take you if you’re intoxicated.”

  “Oh. I thought drinking liberated inhibitions.”

  “I prefer you sober. I want you to experience ... and remember ... everything I intend doing to you.”

  She paled slightly, but lifted her chin defiantly. “Would that by any chance involve any of the interesting things Ana shared with me?”

  So, Ana had said something that had upset Fraya. “What did she say to you?”

  “Oh,” Fraya looked at the ceiling, “Does the name ‘Suzanne’ ring a bell?”

  Emilio suddenly comprehended. “This is not something we should discuss here.”

  “Why not? It seems to be public knowledge.”

  Her voice was becoming more than a whisper now. His little Fraya was upset. He put his hand on her knee under her dress and saw that his touch evoked the desired reaction, although not the desired effect. Immediately, she froze, silent now. His only intention was to calm her, but instead of feeling her relax he felt her tense, saw her breasts peaking. He wasn’t going to touch her more, but hell, it was too tempting. His fingers played with the soft flesh on the side of her knee. When she clamped her legs together, he whispered, “Open.”

  She glanced at him, but did as she was told, and he moved his hand to her inner thigh, drawing slow patterns with his index finger. Sipping his wine casually, he registered her increased heartbeat by the way a vein throbbed in her throat. If it wasn’t for the people around the table, he would have kissed that flesh right now, sucked her skin into his mouth, branded her with a mark that would last the whole damned eight days she was going to be away from him.

  He had to admire her calm demeanor when she picked up her fork, pretending that his touch left her unfazed. Aiming higher, he rubbed his fingers against the warm silk of her panties. This time she almost jerked, but she didn’t pull away from him. Instead, he felt her welcoming his touch, spreading her legs even wider and moving forward on her chair.

  Son of a bitch. He had a hard-on from hell. Fraya moved down an inch and leaned back in her chair. He was so screwed. If he continued watching her he was going to come in his pants. As he tried to withdraw his hand, her thighs clamped around him, holding him in place. Again, the joke was on him. He watched the people around the table engrossed in a conversation, one he now had trouble following. Pressing against her, hard this time, he saw her eyes widening, but not a sound came from her mouth. How much he yearned to hear her scream, to make her shout his name. To beg. But it was him who was going to beg, if he wasn’t careful with his games.

  Ana tapped his shoulder and asked something. Managing to keep a poker face, hell, even succeeding to focus on her question and delivering a reply, he slipped one finger past the fabric of Fraya’s underwear. Fraya pressed her legs together again. With his thumb he started a slow massage, stimulating that spot he had seen her touch when she masturbated for him. It was the prettiest damn thing he’d ever seen. But he wasn’t going to give it to her now. Later. He’d tease her, torture her, and then make her beg.

  He was in the middle of a sentence when he felt Fraya’s hand on his. She caught him off guard when she guided his finger inside of her. Fuck. Damn. She was so wet. So tight. So hot.

  When he finally managed to turn his attention away from Ana without seeming rude, he looked down, but the table and its long tablecloth obscured his view. The need to see her manipulating his hand was overpowering. Fraya took her glass with her free hand, all the while moving his hand at her will and pace, and this time he didn’t stop her when she took a big gulp. Emilio felt her contract around his hand in the same instance she briefly pinched her eyes shut. A visible shudder traveled over her body, but anyone who had noticed could have thought she was cold. When she pushed both her hands on her seat, trying to lift herself away from him, he held her in place, and made her ride her release to the last tremble that he felt in his very own gut. Only then did he slowly retract his hand, smoothing it over her leg, pulling her dress down over her knees, before lifting his hand to her face and trailing his fingers over her lips.

  She looked at him so prettily as her little hot tongue flicked out and licked over the path he had left.

  A bout of laughter pulled him rudely back to the present.

  “I think we should skip dessert and let the honeymooners have some privacy,” Isabella said with a smile in her voice.

  “Ugh, get a room!” Ana exclaimed.

  Fraya’s face turned beetroot red. Emilio draped a protective arm over her shoulder. “What? Am I not allowed to show my wife a little bit of affection?”

  “The way you two look at each other is just disgusting,” Ana said.

  Emilio smiled at her. “Wait until you meet your knight in shining armor, then we’ll talk again.”

  Romero seemed pleased. “Well, it certainly warms my heart to see the two of you so happy.”

  “So in love,” Isabella cooed. She got to her feet and clapped her hands. “Come everyone. Out. Out. We’ve taken enough of Fraya and Emilio’s precious honeymoon time.”

  Emilio couldn’t get to his feet, even if he wanted. Fraya smirked at him as she got up, abandoning him in the state she knew he was in. That precious little wrench. Before she could escape, he put his hands on her hips and got up. Placing her body in front of his, his chin on her head, he used her as a shield to move to the entrance, saying their goodbyes.

  When the last person had left, Fraya freed herself from his embrace and leaned with her back against the door.

  “So much for the wasted dessert,” she said.

  She was way too courageous for her own good.

  “You’re tipsy. And only because of that, you’re off the hook. But don’t push me.”

  “No? You don’t need any sex acts from me tonight? No giving it to me up my ass?”

  So, that was what was eating her.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that if both parties agree.”

  “Well, don’t get
your hopes up, because it’s not my thing.”

  He shook his head. “You agreed, baby. However I wanted.” He watched her pale and then his heart went soft. “And I also said I won’t do anything unless you like it.”

  “I won’t like that, so don’t even go there.”

  “And I had no intention to. Until you brought it up.”

  “But Suzanne–”

  “Suzanne begged me to. I’m not known for disappointing my lovers. If you want to try...”

  He actually enjoyed toying with her. A light of alarm brightened her dark eyes. He had probably teased her enough for one night.

  “Come on. Time for bed.” When she didn’t move, he said, “Do you want me to throw you over my shoulder?”

  “But Ana said–”

  “Ana talks too damn much. Don’t listen to everything you hear.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t give you what you need.”

  He propped his hands on his hips. “Each relationship is unique. No two women are the same. And I never compare. Forget about Ana and Suzanne and get your ass in bed.”

  “In bed ... alone?” she asked in a quivering voice, and he found his resolve wearing thin.

  “For the love of God, woman, I won’t have sex with you when you’re tipsy. Now, I’m already angry about losing out on all I had in mind for tonight, so get out of my sight, before you’re sorry.”

  In a flash he saw her wiggling her scrumptious ass up the stairs.

  He stood watching her, shaking his head.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fraya changed sides in her big bed for the hundredth time. She was too hot and bothered to sleep. It started hurting again. Yes, he had made her have a much-needed orgasm, twice. But now she needed his sperm. She needed him. What if she simply barged into his room and demanded he took her? If he said no, she’d die of shame. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. What was he doing to her? Surely, he was changing her into a witch. A dark, sinister, sex-starved harridan who wanted to claw at his back and dig her nails into his skin. Maybe he was right. She was a little bit drunk. Still, she wanted to be in his bed. Their agreement sucked. He could take her as and when he wanted, and she had to be satisfied to sit and wait. Or did she?

  An idea suddenly occurred to Fraya. She threw back the sheets and tiptoed to her door. She glanced down the dark corridor. Quietly, she slipped across the hall and into his bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it to still her raging heart. What if he sent her away? Could she stand the humiliation? Well, she was here now, and he did say she only had to ask. Fraya moved silently to the bed, getting in next to him.

  At first he only stirred, but as she nestled up to him, he sat up. His hand shot out, locking around her wrist. Did she frighten him? Would he be angry because she woke him? Fraya froze and watched him blink at her, the expression in his blue eyes hidden from her in the dark. He switched on the bedside table lamp and she had to squint while her eyes adjusted to the light.

  “Jesus, Fraya, I could have hurt you. Don’t creep up on me like that.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t feel so sure of herself. He didn’t seem pleased.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight,” she said, her voice sounding small to her own ears. How could she have gone from an independent, proud woman to a kitten begging for a scratch behind the ears?

  “I’m sorry. I don’t sleep well with someone in my bed.”

  “Oh.” There it was–the blow. She shouldn’t have come. When she moved to get up, he pulled her down, his fingers still curled around her wrist.

  “I should have explained,” he said, releasing her to pull his fingers through his hair. “It’s nothing personal. I just sleep better when I sleep alone. And I’m not the cuddle type.”

  “Oh.”

  “Will you stop saying ‘oh’, for God’s sake? What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  Yes. I need you to fuck me, Emilio. “No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She got up. “Go back to sleep. It won’t happen again.”

  He sighed heavily. “Get in.”

  “What?”

  “Get into my bed. I’m awake now.”

  “It was a bad idea. I don’t know what–”

  “Just get into bed, woman, and stop wasting precious sleeping time.”

  He lifted the covers for her. When she sat down reluctantly, he pulled her down next to him and draped his arm around her. She turned her head to watch him. With his ruffled hair and his dark stubble he looked sexier than ever. That bed-head look gave him a softer edge. She let her hand trail down his chest, feeling the hair that covered his muscles.

  He caught her hand and moved it to her hip, but held onto it. “I told you, I won’t take you if you’re tipsy.”

  “I’m not,” she said, feeling indignity slicing through her. “Anyway, I wasn’t hinting at sex.”

  “What are you doing here then?” he said gently, his fingers letting go of hers to caress her arm.

  She thought about it. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.

  What did she want? Why did she really come here? To have his body, or to be comforted? Maybe both. Maybe she was crazy and would regret it in the morning. She sure as hell didn’t want to seem like she was begging for it. But she almost was. Yes, the question was, what did she want? Did she want to take this journey and ride it flat-out for a year? Would she happily walk away after the year? Did she want Gene to come back and change his mind? Whatever it was that had driven her to Emilio’s bed, she knew that she didn’t regret her decision where her body was concerned. She had never regretted their night of passion in Domfront, and she didn’t regret what she had experienced so far. She may regret how her heart may be broken.

  She closed her eyes and turned her back on him, shifting until she felt his chest against her body. And then she stilled. He was naked. How was she supposed to pretend now?

  He wrapped his arms around her. “What is it, Fraya? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  She didn’t answer, because she didn’t know. Physically, she needed him. But there was another ache that had nothing to do with her body, an ache that was stilled by the way his arms held her tight.

  “Do you need? Are you in pain?” he asked, his lips brushing over the back of her neck.

  She turned back to face him. “Yes. It’s started again. I need you. Take away my aching, Emilio.”

  His eyes widened but his pupils contracted. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, sounding genuinely pained. “I don’t like it when you hurt.”

  He kissed her fleetingly, tenderly and then pulled away to swiftly undress her. Fraya bit her lip, watching her stretch top and boy shorts fall next to the bed. She could feel her face flush in shame at her bold request. She had never asked a man to make love to her before, not until Domfront. Although, her pleas from back then would be more accurately described as begging, not asking. Thankfully Emilio acted fast, not giving her time to explore the depth of her embarrassment.

  He rolled on top of her, pinning her body to the bed, taking both her hands and lifting them above her head. His eyes shone in the glow of the lamp, and it almost looked like a happy shine.

  “You came to me,” he said softly, as if it both amazed and pleased him. “For that, you can have it your way.”

  His lips went to hers, his tongue tracing the curve of her mouth and she willingly gave him access, welcomed the hot strokes that gave her the hormone that would make her burn white hot, knowing he would also give her the cure to put out the fire he started. He pressed his body against hers and she could feel his steel hardness nudging her legs apart, revealing how ready she was for him. She moaned, longing to wrap her arms around his neck, but he still held her wrists in his iron grip.

  “You’re mine,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Fraya arched up, taking the kiss she needed, crushing her lips onto his, feeling them swell with all the other parts of her body that needed h
im.

  “I need you,” she whispered, “now,” the urgency of her desire reflected in her voice.

  Without releasing her hands, Emilio positioned himself until she felt him exactly where she wanted him.

  “Is this what you want, baby?” he whispered, nipping at her lips. “Like this?”

  He kissed her neck, her collarbone and the upper curve of her breast. Fraya moaned when he flicked his tongue over the hard tip, punishingly slow. He blew a kiss over the wet flesh, making her skin contract and her knees clench in desire.

  “Like this?” he said. “Soft? Or do you need it hard? Tell me what you want, Fraya.”

  Suddenly he was the indulging, considerate and gentle lover she remembered from the first time, and all it had taken was admitting her need. Yes, this is what she wanted. More than anything, she wanted to feel and see the man she had glimpsed in Zone 11, before she became his enemy. Now, his torturous mouth was gently sucking at her breast, exactly the way she liked so much, just like the first time when he had explored her with his tongue. He remembered. He remembered what she liked. Fraya felt overwhelmed with a strange emotion. He tasted the skin on the under curve of her breast, lowering her arms to her sides, but not releasing her hands, his head moving down, blowing kisses over her tummy.

  “I have to taste you,” he said, tracing a wet, hot circle around her navel.

  All Fraya wanted was to feel his body become a part of hers, fusing with hers while she looked at the emotions displayed in his crystal clear eyes. He was beautiful to watch when he made love.

  “No more foreplay,” she said. “I want you, just like this. I want to watch you.”

  When he released her hands to brace himself on his elbows, taking his weight off her, she shook her head.

  “No. Don’t let go.”

  He conceded immediately, intertwining his fingers with hers, pressing her palms into the mattress above her head. Slowly, tenderly, he started moving, spreading her, filling her, inch by inch, until he was inside of her, all the while keeping his eyes locked onto hers. Fraya felt herself losing control, grinding into him, saying his name like a prayer, saying his name like a starving beggar asking for food, but he maintained the control she lacked and needed from him, moving her like the soft tide of an ocean, the tenderness of his rhythm giving her the sense of affection she craved. His face was pulled into a grimace, a visual clue of the toll the effort of holding back was taking. Fraya reveled in his features. Perspiration glistened on his dark skin. His blue eyes were masses of smoky passion, hazy now with the depth of his pleasure. She loved it when he groaned, when she could hear the strain of his control in his voice, just for her, because she asked for it slow, gentle. Fraya watched and marveled at the beauty and the sacrifice of the man who was doing what he was doing only to please her. All for her.

 

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