Create: A Cariad Romance Three Book Bundle (Cariad Collections)

by Primula Bond

  Without another word, he shifted his body over mine. My legs parted voluntarily and the wetness between them allowed him to slide inside me with perfect ease. I crossed my legs around his back as he gently thrust inside me. His eyes searched my face, enjoying the pleasure he was giving me. He lowered his face to mine, our lips and tongues entwined in ferocious kissing. I clung to him, moving my hips to meet the rise and fall of each stroke.

  My hands ran along his flanks, settling on his hips, encouraging each thrust. In the years between Tom’s death and meeting Antonio, the animal instinct had been lost. Now it was all coming back to me: the intensity of two bodies merging and the pleasure it brought. His core tensed; the abs hardened under his golden skin. Veins pushed out on his neck as he began his rise to climax.

  ‘I am going to come, Stella.’

  Even through the condom, I wanted to feel the warm rush of his spunk inside me. Immediately, my arms grasped around his neck, drawing him close to my body. I kissed him softly as he continued his torrid strokes, faster until he groaned and stiffened. His muscular arms and back tensed as he came. Gently, he lowered his head to mine and nestled on my body. My arms wrapped around his neck. Shallow breaths blew into my ear. I laughed. Breathless and giddy from the intoxicating high, he rolled off me and rested upon one arm.

  I don’t remember how long we lay there, looking at each other. Words seemed unimportant at that moment. Just being there with Antonio, lying next to him, was ecstasy.

  ‘Is everything OK? It was good for you?’ He looked puzzled.

  I stroked his face tenderly. ‘Nothing wrong. It was great. I’m really happy, that’s all. I’ve waited so long just to be touched again.’ Antonio kissed me again, softer this time. ‘Just hold me.’

  I relaxed in his arms with my back toward him, the cold breeze cooling our hot bodies. He laid his arm around my waist, cradling me. Oh my God, that was amazing … But what the hell were you thinking, I asked myself. This is not you. You don’t do this. But it felt so right.

  As he caressed my stomach with tender strokes, spasms fluctuated like the gentle waves around the bay of Naples.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ His voice was soft as the breeze that blew through the room.

  ‘Just thinking about what brought me to Naples.’ My hand lay on top of his and our fingers entwined upon my scar. I could feel his warm breath on my neck. His beautiful brown eyes, with their amber reflections, exuded peace.

  ‘I love the sound of your voice. It sounds … different.’

  ‘I feel different.’

  As I lay on my back, I moved my arm around his shoulders, baring my whole body before him like an offering to a god. He nuzzled his head into the hollow of my shoulder as my fingers stroked his hair. It felt so right. Damn it, I needed that pleasure. I’d hankered for that moment so long. No, it was perfectly natural for us to make love.

  We lay together like that until Antonio fell asleep. Every time he inhaled, I felt the rise of his body, but I didn’t want to disturb the moment. I hadn’t felt this good for such a long time and I wanted the moment to last forever.

  A thin strip of sunlight arced across the bed sheets. I opened my eyes and squinted from the bright sun and the lack of sleep. In front of me, Antonio wore a silk dressing gown, and sat cross-legged with his sketchbook upon his lap. He ran his pencil in arcs across the paper. As he moved, the gown gaped open to reveal his chest. He shifted his gaze to me when he saw that I had woken.

  ‘You looked so peaceful. I wanted to capture this moment for ever, just for you.’

  ‘Oh God! I look a bloody mess.’ I scrunched the bedcover around my breasts. ‘I look terrible in the morning.’ I buried my face in the sheet to hide from his gaze.

  ‘Stella.’ His voice commanded my attention. I looked over my shoulder, but Antonio hadn’t moved from his chair and waited for me to regain my pose. ‘You are beautiful. You need to believe that.’ He held up the picture. ‘Look at yourself.’

  ‘That’s not me.’

  His rich laughter filled the room. ‘It is. You need to believe in who you are and what you really look like.’ Then ,with a few flourishes and quick smudges, he tilted his head to one side, taking in the beauty of his life model. I was astounded at how he’d captured me, seen something deep within me, and seemed to know me so well. The person lying on his page exuded calm and tranquillity, the very opposite of what I’d felt since Tom died. I threw my head back on the pillow to hide my face. Dear God, what was I doing here? Then fresh thoughts of his tenderness, and how he had brought me to a sexual peak the previous night, resurfaced in my mind. I pulled the pillow over my face to hide my ecstasy. I felt born again, just as if our sexual encounter had been my first. Under the pillow, I clenched my mouth to stifle the girlish laughter threatening to erupt from my throat, but my core tensed at the impossibility. Instead of hiding, it was easier to face Antonio and show him how happy he’d made me during the night.

  ‘Can I look, please?’ My voice wavered as I held out a trembling hand toward his sketchbook.

  Antonio rose from the chair and made no attempt to cover himself when his gown opened. The bed dipped as he sat cross-legged before me. I scanned the page, taking in the proportions, the form of my body, the posture and pose. I looked as though I’d slept for a long time and nothing had ever troubled me. Even though my hair was in disarray, it was perfection.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘Yes … I like it.’ My voice trembled and cracked. ‘But I just don’t see myself like that. She’s so … peaceful.’ I reached out for the book.

  His eyes followed the contour of what he had sketched. ‘This is how I will always remember you.’

  I flicked through all the other sketches, women of various ages and shapes in different states of sleep and nakedness. Numbness filled my body. I felt cheap, as if I’d been used in an artistic or sexual experiment. ‘And these,’ I said, swallowing hard as my heart beat faster, ‘are your other conquests? God, I feel so bloody stupid.’

  ‘It is not what it seems, Stella.’

  He tried to touch my hand but I pulled the sheet around me, hiding my nakedness, aware that he was staring intently at me. ‘Please … don’t touch me.’

  His eyes pleaded with me and his half-smile gave way to a look of anxiety. ‘Last night you became the person you needed to be. My picture captures that. Look at yourself … free, peaceful, and relaxed. Tell me, when did you last feel like that?’

  I couldn’t answer Antonio. All the feelings I’d had the night before flooded over me, reminding me how I’d let go of the past and finally allowed myself to achieve something just for me and nobody else. But still the bile rose in my throat. I’d been so bloody stupid. Even though I’d known it would be a one-night affair before I left my hotel suite, I’d let myself go. And seeing all those other women he’d drawn after they’d slept with him just made me feel like he’d been less than honest with me.

  For a long time, we stayed in silence, Antonio on the edge of the mattress while I wrapped a sheet around me and stared through the chink in the curtains. I felt the mattress rise and the soft patter of bare feet across the floor. As Antonio opened the en suite, he left the door open, his gown sliding from his shoulders. All the soft tones of his flesh warmed and excited me. Hot water sprayed from the showerhead, steam covering the frosted glass and obscuring my view of his beautiful, muscular body. I bit my lip and sank into the mattress in a foetal curl.

  The frosted door slid open and Antonio stepped down onto the floor, water dripping from his body. Like a black velvet cloth, his hair clung to the skin of his upper back. As he leant forward to dry his legs, I felt like a voyeur looking through a keyhole at his most intimate moment.

  I opened the sketchbook and flicked through each leaf, studying the various sketches of his past lovers. Although I felt sickened at the prospect that he’d used me and would dump me very soon, the drawings excited me.

  He smiled at me and I turned onto my back, lying
there, basking in his beauty and watching his cock move gently as he rubbed the towel down his legs.

  After he had draped the towel over the sink, he sauntered into the room with a cursory glance and smile. How could he act like he’d done nothing wrong? With no intention of getting dressed, he strutted across to the bureau and applied aftershave to his cheeks and throat. The heady aroma filled the small room and I closed my eyes to savour the intoxicating scent, the open sketchbook falling onto the bed. Antonio came over to me, lounged across the bed, and began slowly turning the pages, sometimes with a smile as he remembered each event, and other times with a frown, as if he could have done better with the end result.

  ‘I draw life models, Stella. It is what I do best. There is something about a sleeping woman that I find fascinating.’ He looked over at me and I turned away.

  ‘I thought …’

  ‘I know you did. I am not like that.’ He slid his fingers against my arm until he grasped my hand. Looking at our fingers entwined against the sheet, I knew he was telling the truth. I sat upright against the headboard and he lay opposite me, his body open for suggestions. He had seen inside me, found the root cause of my unhappiness, and coaxed the repressed Stella out of her cocoon. But if I’d not listened to my inner voice of reason and let go of the past, I wouldn’t be lying here with one of the most handsome men I’d ever been fortunate enough to meet.

  For a few quiet seconds, nothing was said between us that smiles couldn’t say. There was an attraction toward him I’d never experienced before, and I loved it. But there was also a nagging doubt burrowing into my mind, one that I couldn’t shake.

  I shrugged my shoulders and perched on the edge of the bed. ‘I still can’t believe I’m here. This isn’t happening.’ I swivelled my head to see Antonio gazing into my eyes as if he hung on every syllable. When he lifted his hand and laid it upon my breast, the pleasure was instant and arousal ensued. ‘You are not dreaming, Stella. This is real. You are here,’ he whispered.

  His words made me feel warm, as if I had been wrapped in a velvet sheet, and as much as I needed him to make me feel like a woman again, thoughts of home penetrated my mind. I threw my hands over my face, covering my awkward look. ‘Oh God! What will I tell Maddy?’

  ‘Why tell her anything?’ Antonio pulled me down onto the bed and rested his head on my breasts.

  ‘She’ll know … that I’ve had a holiday romance. She just will … I feel and look so different.’

  ‘So tell her the truth. You are a grown adult. You need as much happiness as she does.’

  ‘Oh God, I feel so confused … But I’ve not been this happy for such a long time.’

  ‘Is it not your happiness that counts?’ Antonio sat upright and clasped my hand. In the morning, after the excess of alcohol had worn off, vulnerability had the upper hand and clouded my mind. I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and stared at the sunlight pouring through the gap in the curtains ‘Yes. I do need happiness.’ He stroked my hand. As I mused upon his long, broad fingers that had caressed me to orgasm, I breathed out a long sigh. ‘There has to be a turning point. You’re right. It’s time I moved on.’ I turned to face him. He gazed at me, a hope within his brown eyes as if he was reaching out telepathically for me to embrace him.

  I crept over the bed, like a prowling cat, my breasts rubbing gently on Antonio’s legs as I inched nearer his twitching cock. He rolled his fingers in my hair, comforting and motivating. His cock twitched and slowly transformed from its restful state into arousal. I edged forward, eyes on his face, searching for signs that he liked what I was doing. At the first kiss on Antonio’s stomach, he closed his eyes and moaned. I kissed around his belly button, moving slowly down toward his cock. With my hand, I rolled his foreskin away from the tip. With each lick, I tightened my grip around the base and felt the blood pump through the bulging veins, making his cock twitch and clench. He stared down at me, willing me to take it all into my mouth.

  Without taking my eyes off his, I swallowed his cock, my tongue rolling around the bulbous end. His hands combed through my hair as I fulfilled my desire. Sex the night before had been with my second lover ever and the memory of it still lingered. I sucked hard and felt Antonio’s shudders. His pelvis lifted slightly off the bed as he arched his back. I knew he was close to climax, so I sucked in my cheeks and wanked his cock faster. His chin thrust in the air and a low moan of delight issued from his mouth. His gasps urged me to free myself from the last remaining drops of guilt and grasp my newfound freedom. As Antonio tensed beneath me, my mouth filled with his warm spunk. His face was strained as I released him from my mouth and licked around the tip for every last drop of his seed. He watched intently as I pulled back and planted soft kisses all over his torso. Finally, I reached his lips and locked into his embrace.

  One hour passed with us in each other’s arms, lying on the bed with no words between us. The mid-morning humidity and Naples’ heat warmed the room and our skin grew clammy from close bodily contact. I broke away from his tender embrace, wishing I could stay there forever, but I knew he would have to leave soon.

  ‘I need a shower,’ I said, and strolled seductively toward the bathroom. At the doorway, I turned toward him and whispered, ‘Do you want to join me?’

  Again, no words were needed as Antonio straddled the bedside, his penis already twitching into arousal.

  ‘Afterwards, we are heading off to the museum. I have an idea.’ Even before I had a chance to enter the shower, he began kissing my thighs, working slowly upwards until his tongue started licking around my labia.

  ‘I have a feeling the museum may be closed by the time we arrive.’

  Chapter Eight

  Like the previous day, the humidity was high and sunlight burst upon the museum. I stood next to Venus, looking intently into her face with the same urgent look I had toward Antonio when we awoke.

  Next to the balustrade, Antonio sat with his small sketchbook. He moved the pencil around the page, working the whole area, the sound of soft graphite on textured paper echoing in the stillness of the museum. He needed to finish the picture he’d stopped working on the previous day to return my missing mobile. It was only when I’d looked deep into his eyes before we showered that he’d had the idea of adding me to his drawing. With deft strokes, he outlined my figure and filled in the details, capturing the downward, dominant look of Venus and the submissive look on my face. Lineal strokes and finger smudges brought life to the picture.

  ‘I have almost finished. Stay still.’ Antonio didn’t raise his head from the paper, but intuition and sound told him I was restless.

  ‘Take your time. There’s no hurry.’

  ‘I will not be long … I promise.’

  I glanced sideways. Antonio’s hair flowed freely as he tilted his head from side to side, lost in his creative moment. The pencil glided across the paper in a delicate arc followed by a tender smudge with his middle finger in the same caring strokes that had brought me to orgasm the previous night. As I watched his finger move gently back and forth, making love to the picture, I felt moist between my legs. I wanted to be back in the hotel suite, stripped naked with him, enjoying raw sex.

  Sunlight glistened upon his face as he placed the completed drawing on the seat.

  ‘Finished. Do you want to see it now?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ I moved away from the statue, keeping my eyes firmly focused on Antonio’s face. ‘A photograph would have been OK … oh, that is beautiful. But how did you see that?’ I said, and stared at the sculpture. ‘I’ve never noticed that look before. And is that how I really look?’

  ‘I told you … that is my gift. I see what I see and I capture it.’

  ‘I’ll hang it on my bedroom wall. Thank you so much, Antonio.’ I kissed his cheek.

  ‘It is my pleasure. If you are happy, I am happy too.’

  ‘It’s wonderful.’

  Back at the hotel, I stood by the balcony, staring at the streets below as they heaved an
d bellowed with daytime traffic. All the noises muted the sound of Antonio packing his suitcase. I didn’t want to watch him gather his things and leave. The last two days had been a life-changing and affirming moment for me, and watching him walk away was too much to bear. I cast my face toward the sun, closed my eyes, and basked in the afternoon heat, wanting to absorb the warmth and passion of Naples that had restored me into a lusty woman.

  The touch of Antonio’s hand on my arm roused me from introspection. With one foot on the door jamb, he stood by my side. I wanted the moment to last, and seeing him standing there in a casual white shirt, the sunlight in his eyes like smouldering embers, I wanted to make love to him one more time.

  ‘A penny for your thoughts?’ His brow furrowed, trying to analyse what was going on inside my head.

  I ran my hand across his shirt, spreading out an imaginary crease. ‘I feel … alive. It’s as if I have found the real me.’ I took hold of his hands. ‘Thank you, Antonio. You’ll never know how much I needed to meet you. It’s just so strange that I had to come to Italy to find myself again.’

  Antonio brushed hair away from my cheek and gently rolled it behind my ear. ‘There’s no need to thank me.’ He kissed me softly on my lips and my heart beat faster. ‘Only you could find the real person, and if this is the real person I see before me, she is beautiful …’ We locked together in a passionate embrace. As my heart beat faster, my arms clung to him, unwilling to let him go. One final kiss would end the holiday romance.

  As we leant over the balcony, watching the cars and pedestrians, silence descended between us until Antonio walked to the bureau and picked up his camera. With one click, he captured the moment. I slowly turned toward him as he packed the camera and zipped up the suitcase.

  ‘I hate goodbyes.’