What the Greek Can't Resist

by Maya Blake

  Her decision was instant; so frighteningly committed that she forced herself to remain silent when she wanted to blurt it out. Her fingers moved again over his soft, sensual lips. He captured them and kissed her knuckle. It occurred to her that she held his phone in her other hand. One small movement of her thumb and this would be over—decision made.

  Or she could give the answer she wanted, no, needed to give. Take back a small piece of herself before she had to face the world again.

  ‘I don’t even know your name,’ she ventured.

  ‘My name is Arion. If it pleases you, you can call me Ari.’

  She shook her head. ‘It pleases me to call you Arion.’

  She loved the way her lips curled around his name. So much so, she said it again. ‘Arion...’

  His eyes darkened. ‘You like my name?’ he rasped.

  ‘I love your name. I’ve never heard it before... Arion.’ She couldn’t resist the temptation to try it out one more time.

  He caught her up to him and banded one arm around her waist. His laser-like gaze scoured her face as if he was trying to read her innermost thoughts. ‘The way you say my name... You are dangerous, Pearl mou.’

  Laughter, long suppressed under the pain of just existing, scratched from her throat. ‘Wow...I’m dangerous? That’s a first.’

  ‘What have other men called you?’

  The question sobered her up. Familiar humiliation threatened to crawl over her but she determinedly pushed it away. Tonight was her night, her choice. She refused to let thoughts of past failures intrude.

  ‘What do you think they’ve called me?’

  ‘Breathtaking. Stunning. A beauty Aphrodite herself would be jealous of,’ he breathed against her neck as his lips caressed her skin. ‘Your hair is incredible, the colour of a Greek sunset.’

  Perla’s breath hitched in her lungs. Unbidden, tears sprang into her eyes. Blinking wildly before he spotted them, she forced herself not to be drawn in by the seductive words.

  ‘Am I close?’ He lifted his head and rubbed his stubble—as rough as she’d imagined it would be—against her cheek.

  Liquid heat melted her insides.

  ‘Not even a little. But don’t let that stop you.’

  ‘Beautiful Pearl, I want to see your hair spread over my pillow. I want to bury myself in it, strangle myself with it.’ The hoarse litany made her draw back and stare at him. Once again, his face was stamped in pain. But, alongside it, desire, strong and unmistakable, burned right into her soul. ‘Does that frighten you?’

  ‘I want to say no, but I am a little frightened, yes. I’ve never done this before but I want to. Very much.’ So badly she couldn’t think straight. The need to forget, just for a short while, what faced her in the next few days, was so strong she couldn’t breathe for the need of it. ‘Right now, I’m so desperate for you I don’t know how long I can stand it.’

  ‘Then stay. I will give you everything you desire.’ About to kiss her again, he suddenly froze. ‘Unless you’re not free to be with me?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Is there a lover or a husband?’ came the tight, throaty demand.

  The arrow of guilt that lanced through her made her freeze too.

  This is your night. Yours! Tomorrow will come soon enough.

  ‘I’m free to be with you, Arion. I’ll stay with you tonight if you want me to.’

  His suite was probably the last word in luxury; the fixtures and fittings ones she’d probably have ogled if she’d had a chance to take even a single note.

  But with Arion’s mouth on hers, his fingers in her hair and his body pressed close and hot against hers, Perla didn’t notice one single thing about the third-floor suite, except that the RS button he’d pressed in the lift stood for Royal Suite.

  She did notice the large red velvet sofa he laid her down on the minute they entered his suite’s pitch-sized living room. Although the memory of it disappeared once he’d shrugged off his jacket and tie and freed his shirt from his trousers.

  His chest once he unbuttoned his shirt instantly made her mouth dry, then flood with longing as she stared at hard contours and smooth bronzed muscles. Hairless and divine, his stunning beauty made need she’d never known pulse through her.

  But that was a fraction of what she felt when he dropped his trousers and stepped out of his cotton boxers. His erection stood strong and proud...and big.

  Just then, the enormity of what she was doing hit her between the eyes.

  She was about to lose her virginity to a complete stranger.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A DEEP SHUDDER ripped through Perla and she barely stopped her teeth from chattering like a wooden marionette in a child’s hand.

  The sound she made as Arion, the man she had no knowledge of a mere hour ago, came towards her made him pause and frown.

  ‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

  She was anything but. She shook her head, forcing a laugh. ‘No. I’m a little nervous. I haven’t—’ She stopped. What was the use of telling him of her inexperience? Whether she pleased or disappointed him, she’d never set eyes on this gorgeous man again. They were using each other to forget their pain, to hold the darkness at bay. This wasn’t the time to spill innermost secrets. It was the time to forget they existed. ‘It’s nothing.’

  He nodded as if he understood. Then he took a single step forward, and angled himself over her. ‘I’ll make it good. I promise,’ he vowed, and she forgot everything else.

  The kiss was hotter, deeper than the one he’d delivered at the car. This time his tongue probed her mouth with a sensual force that spoke of his need. Fists clamped in her hair, he went even deeper, his groan of satisfaction echoing her own as her fingers sought and found firm, heated, naked shoulders.

  His skin felt like pure heaven. Velvety smooth and oh so gloriously luxuriant, she explored him from shoulder to back, then lower. When she moulded her hands over his bare bottom, then dug her nails into his taut flesh, he wrenched his lips from hers with a tortured groan. His breath came out in pants as he stared down at her, eyes dark with lust.

  ‘Promise me you’ll do that when I’m deep inside you.’

  Heat drenched her from head to toe. From somewhere she summoned the strength to speak. ‘I promise.’

  He licked the corner of her mouth in a move so simple and yet so powerfully erotic, she felt as if her insides would combust. She gave a heartfelt groan when he pushed himself off her. ‘For that to happen, glikia mou, you need to be as naked as I am.’

  Perla stared down at herself, stunned that the power of his lust hadn’t melted the clothes off her. When he grabbed her arms and pulled her up, she went willingly. The slide of her zip was loud and intrusive in the silent room. Unwanted thoughts once again threatened to ruin the moment. What the hell are you doing? Leave. Leave now!

  As if he could tell, he quickened his movements. Within seconds, he was bending over her once more, his mouth trailing down her neck, washing away her doubt, re-igniting the flames that had merely been banked.

  ‘Tell me how you like it, Pearl mou,’ he rasped against the valley between her breasts. ‘Tell me your favourite position and I’ll do it to you.’

  Panic momentarily seized her. She searched her mind for terms she’d heard of. ‘Doggie style,’ she blurted, then cringed as her face flamed.

  Thank God he didn’t notice. For some strange reason, he seemed as fascinated with her breasts as he’d been with her hair. Moulding them in his hands, he licked first one hardened nipple, then the other, then pulled them simultaneously into his mouth. At her deep groan, he smiled.

  ‘That is one of my favourite positions too,’ he said. His teeth grazed over her nipples, then he trailed kisses lower...lower, until she realised his destination.

  He
ignored the staying hand she put on his shoulder.

  ‘No...’

  ‘Yes!’ With a hot look from darkened eyes, he parted her thighs.

  She held her breath but, at the first sweep of his tongue, she exhaled as pleasure she’d never known rushed over her. Before she could react to that first wave, he began a series of flicks that made stars dance before her eyes. Expertly, he pleasured her, relentless in his need to make her lose control. Buffeted by sensations she’d never experienced, Perla fought both the urge to withdraw from that wicked tongue and press her hips closer. Her head thrashed on the cushion as an unfamiliar sensation pushed her towards a blissful peak.

  ‘Arion! Oh, God... Oh!’ She let out a scream as her climax broke over her. Jerking uncontrollably, she sobbed as pleasure washed over her and sucked her under. When he gathered her in his arms and pulled her into his body, Perla sobbed harder.

  Through it all he murmured soft words of praise and comfort, a balm her soul desperately needed. An eternity later, he started to pull away. Her protesting mutter was met with another kiss.

  ‘Patience, pethi mou, now the real fun begins,’ he said with dark promise.

  Slowly, Perla rubbed the tears from her eyes.

  Opening her eyes, she found him kneeling on the sofa, sliding on a condom. The sight of him, large and powerful and ready, sent another pulse of lust through her.

  When he probed her entrance, Perla felt a moment’s twinge, a shaky feeling of disconnect. It faded away the moment he pressed himself deeper. At her body’s further resistance, he paused with a groan.

  ‘You’re not ready. I’m sorry, I was a little impatient.’

  She slid her hands through his hair and barely resisted raising her head to kiss him. ‘I want you.’

  He gave another groan and kissed her. ‘You’re not ready and I don’t want to hurt you.’

  Mistaking his meaning, Perla spread her thighs wider and ventured her hips closer. ‘I’m ready now.’

  Arion raised his head, a slightly puzzled look crossing his face. ‘Pearl—’

  ‘Please, don’t keep us waiting.’ Emboldened by his groan, she pressed even closer. He slid in another delicious inch.

  The discomfort grew as he pushed in but the rush, the pleasure that followed behind it was so much worth the momentary pain. Perla’s breath fractured as she sighed in bliss. Arion’s grip tightened in her hair with the full surge of his body.

  ‘Theos! You’re so tight. So gorgeous.’ The warmth of his breath washed over her neck a second before his lips found and captured hers. His tongue slid into her mouth, its movement as bold and as raw as his full, relentless thrusts.

  Bliss washed over her so completely, Perla had no idea where sensation started and ended. Clamping her legs around his waist, she took him fully into her body. Pleasure crested in giant waves over her. But, just as she prepared to give herself over to it, he pulled out of her. Rising to his feet, he tugged her off the sofa and onto the floor.

  ‘On your knees,’ he commanded. ‘It’s time to give you what you want.’

  Her heart hammering with excitement, Perla complied. He came up behind her, bent her over the seat and entered her from behind.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ The cry was ripped from her soul, pleasure so profound radiating from inside her she thought she’d pass out.

  Arion’s fingers slid through her hair over and over as he thrust inside her. Perla had never thought of her hair as an erogenous area. In fact, up till that moment, she’d never thought pleasure like this was possible.

  Dear heaven, how wrong she’d been. She screamed as he pounded into her, his hoarse voice reciting her name over and over. Once again the precipice approached, the stars beckoning with a radiance she knew would touch her for ever. Behind her, Arion slid back and rested on his knees. Firm hands urged her back, all the while continuing the relentless pace that stalled her breath.

  ‘Ride me,’ he encouraged, his deep voice raw and urgent.

  Spreading her legs wider, Perla eased herself back, the change in pace escalating her pleasure even higher. Hands gripping the sofa to steady herself, she rode herself to ecstasy. Her breath choked on a scream as her orgasm hit her. One hand clamped around her middle, Arion eased another hand over her belly to tease her clitoris, prolonging her climax. The wave seemed endless; he continued to thrust inside her despite her pleas for mercy. Just when she thought she’d expire from pleasure, she heard his deep groan. He buried his face in her hair, his thrusts growing uneven as pleasure spasms gripped him.

  Several minutes later, he planted kisses on her neck and shoulder, one hand still gripped on her waist. ‘I can’t decide whether you’re an angel or a witch, sent to torment me or bring me heaven.’

  Her breath caught on a soft blissful sigh. ‘Can I be both?’

  ‘With hair like that, you can be anything you want.’

  She managed to lift her head to glance over her shoulder at him. ‘You have a freaky fascination with my hair.’

  ‘A fascination which includes seeing it spread over my pillow.’ He pulled out of her with a dark groan, scooped her into his arms and headed down a short hallway.

  Once again she barely registered her surroundings. But, even while he secured another condom, Arion’s gaze held her captive, the look he sent her exciting her in ways she’d never have dreamt was possible. When he took command of her body once more, Perla gave herself over into his arms, a willing slave for the pleasures in store...

  * * *

  She woke with a start, then fought to regulate her breathing so as not to wake the sleeping man beside her.

  A sneak peek at the bedside clock showed it was half past two in the morning.

  Perla glanced at Arion—goodness, she didn’t even know his surname. Well, he didn’t know her real name, which was a blessing in disguise, she supposed. Not that their paths would cross again in a million years.

  Her gaze devoured his sleeping form. God, he was truly spectacular, and the pleasures he’d shown her would remain unforgettable. Watching the steady rise and fall of his massive chest, she felt her nipples peak again as excitement crawled over her.

  She bit her lip and forced herself to get up. She dressed in silence, holding her breath every time he moved. The small part of her that hoped he would wake and stop her leaving was ruthlessly squashed.

  They could never be more than ships passing in the night. She carried too much baggage and, from what she’d glimpsed in his eyes, he carried a shipload of his own baggage. All the same, her fingers slowed on her zip. Maybe it didn’t have to be this way, maybe she could...

  Stay? Dear Lord, what was she thinking?

  Doing anything of that sort was totally out of the question. She had no choice but to leave.

  If for no other reason than the fact that between now and Friday morning when she had to stand before a congregation and speak, she had her dead husband’s eulogy to write.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE SMALL CHAPEL was packed to the rafters. Outside, a clutch of news vans and reporters were stationed, poised and ready for the opportunity to snap any picture that would feed the media frenzy of the notoriety behind this funeral.

  So far, Perla hadn’t found the courage to turn around to see just how many people had wedged themselves into the tiny chapel. The one glance as people had filed in had been enough to terrify her. But she hadn’t missed the trio of limousines that had crawled past and parked ominously on the chapel lawn.

  Morgan’s bosses. Probably Sakis Pantelides and various executives from Pantelides Shipping Inc. The letter announcing their attendance had arrived yesterday.

  She supposed she should be thankful they were bothering to attend, considering the nefarious circumstances leading to Morgan’s death. A small, bitter part of her wished they hadn’t bothered. Their presen
ce here would, no doubt, keep up the media frenzy, and she also couldn’t dismiss the fact that she’d had to keep demanding information from Pantelides Inc. before she’d been given very brief details of what had happened to her husband.

  Granted, Sakis Pantelides had been gentle and infinitely considerate when he’d broken the horrific news to her but the fact remained that Morgan Lowell, the man she’d married, and whose secret she’d kept—still kept—had died under suspicious circumstances in a foreign country after trying to get away with defrauding his employer. Pantelides Inc. had kept a lid on the fact to protect itself from adverse publicity.

  What no one realised was that this was yet another morsel of unwanted truth she had to keep to herself; another detail she couldn’t share with Morgan’s parents, who had idolised their son and remained devastated by his death. She’d been forced to gloss over the truth for their sake. Again...

  She clenched her hands and forced herself to focus. She had more important things to think about now, like how she could stand up and speak of her husband when another man’s face, the fevered recollection of another man’s hands and the thrust of his hard body repeatedly flashed through her brain.

  Dear God, what had she done? What had she been thinking?

  Although guilt clawed through her belly, the shame she expected to feel remained way below an acceptable level. In fact she barely felt anything except the forceful presence of her one-night lover, deep inside her, surrounding her, pulsing around her like a live electric current with every breath she took.

  She’d taken three showers this morning, all in the vain hope of washing herself free of his scent. But it was as if he’d invaded her thoughts as well as her pores. Behind her, whispered voices surged higher and she heard shuffling as the congregation made way for new arrivals.