“You’re addicted to me, too?” He asked, the question drawled, but also, loaded with need – a need to hear her say it again, to know they were both consumed by this madness.
“Isn’t that obvious?”
Agreement and understanding bounced from him to her and then he bent down, falling to his knees, and before she knew what he intended, his mouth was moving over her sex, and sensations robbed her of the ability to think, far less speak. She took a step backwards, so she was supported by the strength of the tiled wall, and he held her legs apart while he drove her towards the edge of sanity, towards the doors of heaven, and she cried his name out when she fell apart, her fingers tangling in his dark hair.
And afterwards, she was glad she had managed to stop herself from saying what had been running around and around in her head. She was glad she hadn’t said that she loved him, even when she was pretty sure she did. Even when she suspected addiction and need were all bound up in something much bigger, much more permanent and both terrifying and exhilarating at once.
But she said the words to herself, knowing they were true, and that one day, she’d probably say them to him – and just hope he said them back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“SOPHIA MESSAGED ME,” SHE said, stretching languidly, her body satisfied, her mind relaxed. Outside, rain lashed against the windows, and night had fallen, wrapping them, and the island in a sort of wintry bliss. Inside, it was cozy and festive.
Christmas hadn’t been contained to the lounge room. Bella had unboxed every decoration Vitalo’s mother had possessed, and had found perfect places for them throughout the house. In their bedroom, she’d made a wreath from the vines outside, and even though the green had faded days earlier, it was a lovely brambly looking thing now.
Her hands moved down, closer to her stomach, and she ran them over the roundedness there in a newly-formed habit, delighting in the certainty that there was a baby in there, growing and living and doing everything it needed to do before it was ready to swim out and join them in the world.
“Your sister?” He prompted, his hand lifting and trapping hers, curving over the small roundedness of her stomach, his eyes dropping to it with a warmth and affection that made her heart skip a beat.
Bella made a noise of agreement. “She’s going to be in the states. She wanted to catch up.” Her eyes lifted to his and then, at the intensity in his gaze, flicked away again. “I haven’t told her. Any of this.”
“She knows about the baby?”
“Yes. Apart from that.”
He nodded slowly. “When?”
“When will we tell her?”
“When will she be in the States?”
“Next weekend.”
His frown was infinitesimal. “So soon.”
“She doesn’t live there?”
“No,” Bella lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain. “Sophia moved to Abu Faya years ago.”
“For work?”
“You could say that,” Bella’s smile was a flash on her face. “She’s engaged to His Royal Highness Sheikh Addan bin Hazari. But you can’t just marry a Sheikh, it turns out. You have to basically go to college and get a degree in the country. She’s been studying – everything from the history to the language – there’s six dialects she needs to be fluent in – to the culture and the politics.”
“I knew Addan’s father,” Vitalo said, thoughtfully. “Bashira was good friends with Andrew.”
“I know.” Bella’s eyes flicked to Vitalo’s and this time, they lingered there, roaming his face. “They always wished this wedding to take place. Dad used to joke about it, but Sheikh Bashira used to come to see us and he would always bring something special for Sophia. Amyrat Saghira, he would call her. It means ‘little princess’.”
“So it is, what? An arranged marriage?”
“No. Not exactly. She and Addan care for one another. They’re very close friends. They began to write to one another, swapping letters infrequently, for a couple of years, until daddy died when they wrote more and more often, and then she started to spend summers there, and on her twenty first birthday, they announced their intention to marry.”
“You’re happy for her?”
Bella nodded thoughtfully. “I think Sophia and I are both a little unconventional when it comes to marriage. I don’t know why. I mean, I married a guy I don’t love, just because it made sense. Because I felt obligated to. What does that say about me?”
Vitalo was very still, completely quiet, but when she turned to look at him, there was a tightness in his features, as though he was clamping his jaw together, as though he didn’t want to speak for fear of what he might say.
“You asked me the other day what regrets I have. That’s a big one for me.”
His eyes swept shut for a moment and he pulled his hand away, then pushed out of bed, standing and reaching for a pair of pants, which he pulled on brusquely. He stood with his back to her, his spine ramrod straight.
“When I suggested this,” he said, finally, clinically, coldly. “I didn’t know you as I do now. I truly thought marriage was the only way we could make this work. But the last thing I want is to force you to be here against your will. If our marriage is something you regret, something you wish didn’t happen, then we must dissolve it.”
Bella stared at him in complete confusion for several seconds and then the penny dropped and she pushed out of bed, moving to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, forcing him to look at her. “That’s very kind of you, Mr Katrakis, but I was referring to my first marriage.”
And comprehension dawned, relaxing his face almost at once, but only for a second before tension began to emanate from him in waves all over again. “I thought you meant me.”
“I’m addicted to you, remember,” she teased, but softly, earnestly, her heart wanting to scream at him that she was addicted to him in every way, that she loved him with all of herself. “I’m addicted to all of you.”
He lifted a palm, curving it over her cheek. “I’m sorry you regret your first marriage.”
“It can’t be helped now. There’s no sense lingering over it – I can’t change the past. I’d rather focus on the future.”
Something sparked in the depths of his eyes and he expelled a long, slow breath. “What place does the past have in our marriage?” he said, and she nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Well,” he murmured, “I have to go to Athens. You want to go to the States.” His eyes roamed her face. “Why do we not travel first to Athens, then onto – where?”
“Sophia and I have a place in Colorado,” she said, thinking of how beautiful it would be now, covered in snow, surrounded by crisp white mountains, all cozy and picturesque. “But you don’t have to come, if you’re busy, I mean. I could go…”
He lifted a finger to her lips, silencing her, and his eyes held a warmth and kindness that almost knocked her sideways. “I want to be with you.” He dropped his hands to her stomach. “With both of you.”
*
“This place is enormous,” she murmured, moving into the kitchen of his Athens townhouse, wearing only one of his business shirts, her feet bare, her hair tousled around her face. He looked up from where he was reading the paper, and his eyes latched to hers and the air between them seemed to crackle and spark with the hum of electricity.
Where she was casual, straight from bed, he was wearing a suit, like he had been the first time they’d met. His dark hair had been combed back from his forehead, and there was an air of untouchability about him that made her ache to touch him.
Her pulse hammered as she padded across the room. “You have to go to work?” She asked, knowing the answer. He’d gone to work every day since they’d arrived in Athens, earlier that week.
And Bella had thrown herself into the Christmas spirit, shopping for gifts for Xavier and Ellie’s kids, for Sophia, for her mother and new stepfather, for friends back home. She’d spent long hours watching h
er favourite Christmas movies, wrapping presents, drinking spiced tea. She wouldn’t make the gingerbread house, though. Not until she was with Sophia. That was something they always did together.
“Yes,” he growled, a hand lifting to her bare thigh, wrapping around it, his eyes on hers almost mocking as his fingers drifted higher. Her breath snagged in her throat as his fingertips found the cotton of her briefs and brushed over it, and then he scraped his chair back, his eyes still on hers as his head dropped to hers and his lips crushed hers.
Her hands lifted to his lapels, crushing his fabric as she pulled him closer, kissing him, tasting him, wanting him, needing him.
Needing him now, needing him always. Her addiction for him was becoming absurd – at some point, she had presumed, she would be inured to this. But a month after marrying, her lust showed no sign of abating.
“Do you ever think about what would have happened, if I hadn’t been pregnant?” She asked, sucking in a breath as his hand pushed aside her briefs and a finger slid into her moist, warm core. She moaned, bucking forward, and he caught her, a strong arm clamping around her waist.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes holding hers for a brief moment before dropping lower. His hand worked to unbutton the shirt she wore, and he watched as it parted to reveal breasts that were so much rounder now than before. With a finger inside her, teasing her, tempting her, he cupped one of her breasts, his fingertips finding her nipple and swirling over it so she made a moaning noise, from low in her throat.
“You’d never have seen me again,” she gasped, as pleasure began to build inside of her.
“How do you know?” He was watching her intensely.
“We were…” her voice trailed off as fireworks began to burst under her skin. “Both…” she gasped. “There in your…” She dug her fingernails into his shoulder. “Office.”
He dropped his mouth to her nipple, tracing it with his tongue, so lightly that she shivered and thrust her breast forward, needing more, needing him to touch her harder, deeper, faster. Needing so much, and not knowing how to express that.
“Please,” she said, simply.
And it was enough.
He understood.
He took her nipple in his mouth and rolled it with his tongue and moved his hand faster, and she gripped onto him for dear life as everything she knew about the world exploded around her and the world began to make no sense, then all the sense, in different ways.
“Please,” she whispered, spent, clinging to him, her head pressed to his chest, so she heard his rapid, racing heart, matching her own.
“You are beautiful when you come,” he murmured, lifting his hand and pressing a finger beneath her chin. “I will never get tired of seeing you explode, and knowing I am the reason for it.”
“That sounds like good news for me,” she quipped, her smile weak, her body quivering all over.
His laugh was throaty. “I have to go to the office,” he said with obvious regret.
But Bella wasn’t ready to let him go. Her eyes held a challenge as her hands snaked lower, to the buckle of his belt. “Why?”
He laughed unevenly. “I have a meeting at ten.”
“It’s just gone nine,” she said with a shrug. “You don’t have to leave right now.”
“No,” he agreed, his chest jerking inwards as her hands reached into his pants and cupped his arousal. “But soon.”
“Soon? Like how soon?” Her eyes lifted to his and before he could answer, she dropped down to her knees, her eyes still latched to his, her expression holding a silent challenge.
“Bella,” he said quietly, warningly.
It was a warning she didn’t heed. Having never performed oral sex, she had no real clue what to do, and her first touch was tentative. She ran her tongue over his tip, and he jerked against her, so she smiled, her confidence growing in leaps and bounds.
She ran her tongue lower, to his base, and then back to the tip, then she wrapped her lips around him, swirling her tongue over him as her mouth took him deeper.
He was big, and hard, and she had no idea how she could ever get more than a third of him inside, but it didn’t matter. She kept her lips moving over just the top of his shaft, and he swore, his breath loud and desperate, and her confidence soared. She brought her hands to his base, cupping him as she moved her mouth, and he dug his hands into her hair, cursing again as his body began to shake.
“You need to stop,” he groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“That’s my plan,” she said quickly, moving her mouth faster, her delight at his pleasure formidable.
“Bella,” her name was just a hiss from his lips. “You don’t want me to…”
In response, she lifted her gaze to his and took him as deep as she could, so his tip hitched against the back of her throat and she tasted his salty seed, she moaned, relishing this intimacy, and the power of pleasuring him, and then she moved up and down his shaft again, faster, and the hands in her hair gripped tighter so when he came it was with a loud, guttural cry and he held onto her as though, without her, he would fall apart.
Hands that had held her as if for survival gentled, running over her hair lightly, caressing her, and then he was lifting her under her arms, straightening her so he could see her eyes, so he could look into her eyes and reassure himself she was okay.
She was better than okay.
And her smile showed it.
“Miss me?” She requested, lifting up and kissing his lips lightly.
“I think, Mrs Katrakis, it is safe to say I will not think of anything else today…”
*
He hadn’t exaggerated.
He sat through a meeting with some of his board members, but he was impatient. All he wanted was to get back to Bella, to run his hands over her body and delight in her – all of her. He’d wanted her the moment he’d seen her. He’d wanted her that night, even after he’d discovered her innocence. And he wanted her now, especially as each day made her belly swell more and more, filling with the proof of their intimacy, filling with his own child – a mix of him, and her. Her pregnant body was the most beautiful, desirable sight he’d ever beheld.
Somehow he made it through the board meeting, and though his diary was full for the rest of the day, he thought about ditching it all, about going straight to his car and driving home, full pelt.
He didn’t.
His obsession with her was something he had to at least try to control – for her sake as much as his own. Hell, he’d become part-demented by lust. She was all he could think about, all he wanted in life. A man renowned for his devotion to his family’s business, to the empire that was a world-leader in logistics and transport, was nowhere to be seen.
His phone rang sometime after lunch and he snatched it up, desperately hoping it would be Bella. He told himself it didn’t matter that he was so desperate to hear her voice he’d practically broken his arm in an effort to reach his phone faster.
“Katrakis,” he spoke into it, a smile on his lips as he waited for her breathy voice.
“Vit, darling, tell me you’re in Athens?”
His smile dropped, his chest squeezed and his body tightened on high-alert. “Kat,” he drawled, the word not at all welcoming. “How are you?”
“Oh, Vit, please say you’re here. I need to see you.”
“Here?” His heart began to run faster. The walls were suffocating him.
“Athens. Oh, Vit, God, I have to see you. Are you home?”
“No,” the word was issued too swiftly. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s urgent. Please.”
He wanted to tell her to go to hell, to leave him alone, to disappear, but he knew Kat – he knew how unlikely she was to take ‘no’ for an answer, and he couldn’t risk her showing up on his doorstep, upsetting Bella.
Liar, his conscience prompted. This wasn’t about Kat upsetting Bella - it was about Bella learning the truth before he was ready for her to know it. Would
he ever be ready? He couldn’t say with any clarity. But hell, he needed to do what he could to control this damned mess.
“I am not at home,” he surprised himself by sounding calm and in control when all the pieces of his world seemed to be hurtling out of his control. “Let us meet at Asiménios for a drink. In an hour?”
“I can’t now. Later? Six?”
“I thought it was urgent?”
“It is. But I have to finish this first. Six?”
He clenched his teeth, hating that he had to see Kat at all, let alone when all he could think about was Bella. “Fine. But I won’t be able to stay long.”
“We’ll see,” she purred. “I can’t wait.”
He disconnected the call, and stared out at Athens, his mood dark. He had to do this – to see Kat, to work out what he could say to her to get her to accept it was never going to happen between them. He saw now that he should have been clearer sooner. He should have put aside whatever thrill he got from flirting with her, from the illicit nature of their temptation, and simply told her ten years ago that he would never, in a million years, betray Andrew. Living or dead, he owed his friend more than that.
He was in a mess, but he would find a way through it. He had to. He’d married Bella because it had made sense, but he saw now how much more there was to their relationship. He’d never wanted to marry – at least, not for many long years – but everything was different now.
He lifted his phone again, his mood lifting a little as he punched out a text message to her.
I have a late meeting. I’ll be home around eight. I’ll bring dinner.
And then, a moment after sending it, he added,
I miss you.
He hesitated for a few seconds and then pressed the button to shoot it to her phone. It crossed over with one of her texts.
Her Surprise Baby Christmas (Evermore Book 4) Page 10
