Satin Lies

by Tricia Jones

  But who was she kidding? She’d lost control from the first moment she’d set eyes on him and had spent the intervening years in denial. He was always there, if not in the foreground then on the periphery of her thoughts. Now he was here in glorious reality, and threatening to strip away every rational thought, every last vestige of self-protection.

  Perhaps she was a fool to think she would have any control in their relationship, any say in how he could take all her feelings and spin them around until all that remained was how much she wanted him. But she was damned if she wouldn’t try.

  With a deep breath Faye stepped forward. “Why don’t you just get on with it?”

  Those grey eyes glittered. “Undo your robe.”

  He wasn’t being stubborn or ensuring he retained absolute control, Faye realized. This was Enrico. Demanding, proud, arrogant but essentially honorable. He was making certain she was a willing partner. He wanted confirmation of her agreement to their union. By untying the belt of her robe she was issuing an invitation, welcoming him. It was a symbol of her acquiescence, her submission.

  Although quite why he needed it at this point, Faye wasn’t certain. Didn’t the physical evidence speak for itself? Her face must be flushed with desire, her pupils all the way dilated by now, and as for her treacherous nipples…

  With her eyes glued to his, she let her hand drop to her belt. Her fingers seemed clumsy and heavy as she fumbled with the knot, then fumbled some more. She used both her hands, lowering her eyes from his to focus on the cause of her predicament.

  What was wrong with the stupid knot anyway? She knew nervous energy had caused her to fiddle with the thing during their confrontation but she couldn’t have bound it that tightly.

  Her face burned, her humiliation complete when Enrico gave a low, sexy laugh then reached out to hook his index finger around the knot. He gave her an easy tug and she stumbled against him.

  His eyes smoldered down at her. “Why not let me do that?”

  Her heart pounded but she gave a casual shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

  Another low laugh. “I intend to.” His hands got busy with her belt and seconds later, as if by magic, the knot unraveled.

  Silk slid against her skin and air brushed over her naked shoulders as Enrico slipped the robe from them. He tightened his fingers around her upper arms, trapping the silk before it could slip any further down.

  With another almost imperceptible tug, her breasts brushed his chest. Every precious memory of their first time together didn’t come close to how it felt against him now, as if the intervening years had served only to increase her need for him. Her knees trembled, her head spun, everything inside her sprang to life after long years of denial.

  “Put your arms around me,” he growled, tightening his hold. “Say you want this.”

  Seemingly incapable of rational thought of her own, Faye brushed her fingers along his forearms. Urged on by his sharp inhale and the jerk of his rock-hard abdominal muscles, she slid them over the granite surface of his biceps, then over the heated skin of his shoulders and around his neck.

  “I want this,” she confirmed, lifting her mouth to his. “I want you.”

  He took her mouth in a greedy kiss that told her he felt the same, and her head spun in edgy delight. It didn’t matter that her legs had given up the ghost because he was holding her tight…and her breasts were crushed hard against the hot, tight expanse of his chest. Like hers, his heart thundered. The thought of it, the thrill of it, made her tighten her arms around his neck and she slid her fingers into his hair. That she could make him want her like this, as if he couldn’t get her close enough, couldn’t kiss her hard enough, sent a sharp thrill barreling through her system.

  His hands slid down, gripping her buttocks beneath the silk. He didn’t end the kiss as he lifted her into his arms. Faye clung to him, her legs tight around his waist, the warmth of cloth, the chill of steel as his zip pushed against her naked core made her squirm and jerk herself closer against him.

  He gave a low growl, turning with her in his arms until he could drop them down on the bed.

  His mouth slid hot and hungry over her jaw, down her throat. He eased the silk gown away from her arms and threw it aside. She arched into his palm as his hand covered her breast, her nipple incredibly sensitive to the slow roll of his thumb and forefinger. She moaned softly, both in sensuous discomfort and agonizing need. The delicate torture he inflicted on her responsive flesh only intensified when his mouth claimed her breast, his tongue licking and soothing the ravaged nipple.

  The quiet night air was ruptured by her appeal for… She didn’t know what. All she knew was that she wanted, needed, to say his name over and over.

  “Rico…” she ground it out as he licked and teased, showing no sign of acceding to her strangled plea for him to cease the exquisite torture.

  He transferred his attention to her other breast as she bucked beneath him, running her hands over his back, his shoulders. Wanting to push him away and yet wanting him ever closer.

  It was too good. He was too much.

  His hand slid down, over her stomach, her hip, the side of her thigh. She touched his itinerant arm and felt the muscles flex beneath as he stroked and explored. When his fingers danced close to where heat flared she said his name again.

  His eyes lifted, found hers, as he pushed his fingers gently inside her.

  Faye gasped, her intimate muscles tightening at the contact. He waited, dropping tiny kisses on her mouth, then pushed deeper, harder.

  She tensed again, closing her eyes, trying hard to relax. This was what she wanted. This was what she had craved for eight years. Eight long years during which she had never known another man’s touch, had never wanted another man’s touch. Only Enrico. It was only ever Enrico. Why in heaven’s name couldn’t she simply relax now they were finally together?

  Because underneath it all she knew this meant nothing to him. Nothing more than a means to an end. Keep her happy and he got to keep his daughter with him. It was that simple. For him. They were together like this because of a clause in a contract.

  Enrico’s hand stilled, but he didn’t withdraw it. The warmth of his palm as he cupped her was strangely comforting. And it had tears forming.

  She couldn’t cry, not now. Her eyes shot open and she saw the tiny grooves between Enrico’s.

  “You are so tight, cara.”

  Faye swallowed, stroking her fingers along his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Although she didn’t know what she was apologizing for. All she knew was she didn’t want him to stop. And right now he looked concerned enough to do that.

  “Do not apologize.” He kissed her, slow and long. “It is every man’s dream.”

  Although quite why in hell she was this tight was confusing in the extreme. But Enrico pushed the enigma away. He had better things to think about right now, better things to do, than wonder why his wife was as tight as the virgin she had been when they first came together. But the thoughts wouldn’t leave him as he kissed her. She’d had a child, been married. And although separated from his brother for three years, he wasn’t so naïve that he didn’t know a woman had needs the same as a man. In that respect he wasn’t the old-fashioned dinosaur Faye accused him of being. Surely she had taken a lover since the separation?

  Don’t go there, he warned himself. Not the time, not the place. He had the woman he’d craved underneath him. While she was tense and tight, all the other signs she was a willing participant were there. Perhaps in his desire for her he’d rushed things?

  But then Faye arched beneath him, her soft moans bringing him out of his reverie. He hadn’t realized he’d resumed a rhythmic stroking of his fingers. Hadn’t realized Faye had started responding to him.

  Already she was wet and more than ready for him. He was rock-hard. Blood pumped through his system and his entire body throbbed for release.

  He rolled on top of her, nudging her thighs apart. Her muscles tightened as he positioned himself
between her legs. Faye had her eyes closed and although her breathing was deep and heavy he saw her jaw clench.

  Dio. How in hell was he supposed to stop now?

  He took several deep breaths, closing his own eyes as he braced himself on his forearms above her. When he opened his eyes, hers were still closed.

  “Faye?”

  When she didn’t acknowledge him, he said her name again.

  Her response was a barely audible “Hmm?”

  “Open your eyes.”

  It seemed like an enormous effort, but her long eyelashes fluttered and lifted.

  Nothing on earth could have prepared him for what he saw in those lavender blue eyes as she looked up at him. Any fear he had she was doing this against her will melted away beneath the power of that sultry look she gave him, her pupils dilated, her lids heavy.

  “What?” she whispered, her rapid breathing making her voice sound husky. “What’s wrong?”

  A wave of something indefinable swept through him as he stared down at her flushed face, her tousled blonde hair. He felt his heartbeat pick up again, the blood surging through him. His gaze lowered to her breasts, soft and lush, her nipples plump and ripe. Good enough to eat.

  For a moment he thought about tasting his fill, but the persistent throb of a certain part of his anatomy made waiting any longer impossible.

  He looked back at her. “Do not close your eyes,” he demanded. “I want to watch you as I make you come. I want to see your eyes.” They’d go soft and opaque, he thought, just as they had the first time, haunting his dreams ever since.

  This time he ignored the way her body jolted as he nudged against her, though he tried to go slow. When he pushed deeper she moaned softly. Dio, she was so tight.

  He waited, with only their heavy breaths filling the silence. Perhaps he should let her get used to him, he thought, allow her to relax. But she felt so snug, all that heat enveloping him. He pushed into her before he even made the decision, his body somehow taking over in primal and instinctive reaction.

  Faye cried out, more from shock than discomfort. She’d tried to relax with each push, knowing he fought to take it slowly. Was he trying to accommodate her nerves? Had he guessed she was still inexperienced in the art of lovemaking?

  She’d made love only once in her life. With him. She knew back then, that first time, she hadn’t pleased him, hadn’t really satisfied him. Then he’d been a sexually experienced male in his mid-twenties, already used to women fulfilling his every need—in and out of bed. She had tried back then to act like she imagined his other women did. Had wanted to please him, make him realize she wasn’t the young, gauche little thing she always feared he’d thought her to be. She had wanted him to fall in love with her.

  But instead of being the experienced sexual partner she had tried to be back then, she had tensed, whimpered and heavens, she had even cried afterwards. It had been so wonderful, she had cried.

  And here she was—tensing—whimpering—

  The last thrust, long and hard, took her breath away even as it took him to the hilt. He was moving now, rocking in a slow and rhythmic way, each determined thrust filling her to capacity. And it felt…exquisite.

  Faye matched her movement to his, the primitive sway of a woman drawing in her mate.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he demanded roughly. “Wrap them tight around me.”

  She did, keeping her gaze locked with his as he moved above her, inside her.

  His shoulders bunched as he pumped into her. His skin hot and taut beneath her hands as they gripped him, pulled him down.

  “Rico…” she ground out. Rico, I love you so much.

  One of his hands slid under her buttocks and with a harsh cry he yanked her hips higher, the movement pushing her legs up high around his waist.

  Her breath caught with each relentless thrust as he pounded into her, until, stretched to capacity, Faye felt the exquisite pull of release.

  She closed her eyes, her chin arching into the air as she prepared to savor the excruciating pleasure toward which he catapulted her.

  Oh, she whimpered all right. Just like last time. She couldn’t help it. And she acknowledged that making love with Enrico would always have that effect on her. But those whimpers accompanied the most wonderful sensations she had ever known. The feel of the man she loved pushing her on over the edge into ecstasy, then following her into the abyss.

  Chapter Ten

  “I hurt you.” Enrico lay against her, his hand slowing stroking her hip. He’d pulled the covers over them to waist height, which meant she could still drink her fill of his tanned and muscled chest, with its sprinkling of hair. “You were so tight, I know I must have hurt you.”

  “No, you didn’t.” It was hard enough to breathe, let alone talk. But she wanted to reassure him, strip away that questioning look in his eyes. It unsettled her, made her want to put up her guard again. And right now she didn’t want to feel that way, didn’t want to answer his probing questions.

  He hiked himself up on one elbow, rested his head in his palm and looked down at her. “When was the last time you slept with a man?”

  His question sounded clinical, or rather the way he asked it sounded clinical, in that flat, harsh tone. For a moment, she thought about saying something like, “not for ages” but this was Enrico, he’d want specifics.

  She tried another tactic. “That’s not the sort of thing you should ask a woman on her wedding night,” she teased, batting her eyelids and reaching to brush back his hair.

  His expression remained fixed. “Have you slept with anyone since you separated?”

  “No.” At least that was easy to answer, and the absolute truth.

  He didn’t say anything for long moments, then his hand moved around and his fingers brushed her stomach. “Then I am the first?”

  And the last. “You are.” She let her fingers play along his cheekbone. “Does that appeal to your macho instinct?”

  His mouth quirked. “Considerably.”

  His hand went exploring, around the plump fullness of her breast, down the side of her ribcage, along the curve of her hip. Then his brow creased. “The last time you ran out on me about now, crying.”

  Remembering, she turned her head away, but he patted her hip, a silent command she look back at him. His eyes pierced hers. “Why?”

  “I was young and it was my first time,” she offered lightly, forcing her mind away from the rejection that followed, and how he’d told her it had been a mistake. “It hurt.”

  His deep frown was thick with skepticism. “Is that the only reason you tensed when I touched you tonight?” His hand slid to the juncture of her thighs. “Because of the memories?”

  “Sort of. And, well, our marriage isn’t exactly conventional.” And he didn’t exactly love her. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. What you’d expect.”

  Her face flushed gently as he stared down at her, his hand beginning a lovely drugging stroke where the heat was building again. “And now?”

  Sinuously, she moved her hips as he adjusted his hand. “Now I know what to expect.” And heavens above, it was wonderful.

  She slid her hands slowly over his back, enjoying the warmth of his flesh and the way his muscles flexed beneath her touch.

  He purred like a big cat, and sought her mouth. His kiss was slow and deep and—oh, how could he kiss her like this if he didn’t care for her?

  Faye tightened her arms around him, pulling him closer, wanting that hard, lean body against her, around her, inside her.

  He rolled on top, using his knees to nudge her legs wide. This time she didn’t tense, didn’t tighten, but her stomach muscles jerked in response as he kissed his way down her throat, over her collar bone, between her breasts.

  Her pelvis surged as his tongue slowly circled her navel. “Rico…”

  She wanted to say his name. Seemed she couldn’t stop saying his name. As if to reassure herself it was actually him making love to her and not some phantom l
over her fevered imagination had whipped up out of thin air.

  Moments later she couldn’t have uttered a thing if her life depended on it. She shivered and trembled with anticipatory pleasure as he pushed up her knees and draped her legs over his shoulders.

  Through a sensual haze, she watched him move up her body, the action lifting her hips, opening her up so very intimately to him.

  There was no gentle easing into her this time, no attempt to let her adjust to his size, his strength. Just one powerful and relentless thrust and he was inside her. She felt almost unbearably stretched. Amazingly full.

  And it was incredible.

  His powerful shoulders bunched as he thrust into her, releasing momentarily as he drew back before thrusting again. The force of the movement made her hips grind and buck, her breathing staccato gasps of frenzied pleasure.

  It was hard and fast and over in a heartbeat.

  He collapsed against her and only rolled away when their breathing had slowed. Denied his warmth Faye shivered as the night air wafted through the still-open balcony doors and brushed over her warm, glistening flesh.

  Enrico drew her to his side and pulled the duvet around them. He brushed his lips over hers, then settled back and closed his eyes.

  Faye waited, hoping he’d say something about what they’d shared. For her it had been the most amazing experience, bringing her closer to him—both physically and emotionally. So she waited.

  Her insides took a joyous leap when he turned his head and tucked hers beneath his chin. “Go to sleep now,” he said lazily.

  As Faye battled with disappointment, the gentle rise and fall of Enrico’s chest alerted her to the fact he already had.

  But then what had she expected anyway? For him to swear undying love? He’d married her to get his child. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Aching both from the heart, and from a body not used to such erotic activity, she watched the movement of his chest and tried to synchronize her breathing with his. When her eyelids became heavy, she cuddled up to Enrico and gave in to the heady call of sleep.