His Virgin Mistress Part 12

Demetri's legs were splayed, and now he used his hold on her hand to tug her between them. 'Did you know?' he asked, and now she did cast another, albeit brief glance at his face.

'Not before we were married, no.'

'But- 'I was naive,' she said flatly. 'As I told you, I'd been brought up by an elderly aunt. Richard knew that. He used it to his own advantage.'

'Even so-'

Demetri shook his head and looked up into her troubled blue eyes. He knew he should get to his feet, but right now he was too bemused to do it. What she was saying was so incredible.

Theos, did she expect him to believe her? Did he believe her?

'You don't believe me?'

For a moment he thought he'd spoken his thoughts out loud, but he knew as soon as he saw her doubtful features that she was merely antic.i.p.ating his reaction.

'I-did not say that,' he began, but she wouldn't let him finish.

'You didn't have to,' she retorted. A bitter smile crossed her face. 'Richard's parents didn't either.'

Demetri looked down, gathering her other hand so that he held both of hers between his. 'I still do not understand,' he said softly. 'What possible satisfaction could this man get from-?'

'He wanted me to have a baby,' she answered without hesitation. 'It's ironic, really. I'd virtually resigned myself to a sterile marriage, but his parents wanted a grandchild, so...'

Demetri tilted his head to look up at her again. Was it true?

Was it possible? Had he been totally wrong about her? He didn't know. What he did know was that his body was treacherously weak where she was concerned.

'And-did he succeed?' he asked, hardly wanting to hear the answer. She had said she had no children, and now he thought he could understand her reaction when he'd ques tioned her. But that didn't mean- Her response was as unexpected as her revelations had been.

Instead of indulging in some tedious explanation, which he might or might not have listened to, she slid her fingers between his.

Then, drawing his hands aside, she stooped to brush a feather-light kiss across his startled mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

How Demetri prevented himself from falling back into the bath he never knew. At the touch of her lips his limbs felt boneless, and it would have been so easy to lose what little hold on reality he had. Need, hot and powerful, transmitted itself from her to him, and this time when he reached for her it was in the certain knowledge that she wouldn't push him away.

Between his legs, he'd hardened instinctively, and when her thigh brushed against the swelling in his pants he real ised how totally she overwhelmed his senses-and his san ity. With his hand behind her head he crushed her mouth to his, letting her feel the hunger in his kiss. And she met his demand, her lips parting eagerly, inviting the urgent inva sion of his tongue.

But Demetri wanted to feel more of her than her hands and the undoubted delight of her mouth. He wanted to feel those full rounded b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest, her nipples probing the dark hair that arrowed down to his navel. He wanted to touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, not through the fine silk, as he was doing now, but her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, warm beneath his hand. He wanted to touch her navel, too, to lick his way down her body to the soft curls he knew he'd find between her legs. Theos, he wanted all of her, and he was fairly sure she wanted all of him, too.

With his mouth still glued to hers, he got unsteadily to his feet, releasing her hands to cup her upper arms with fingers that were slippery with sweat. Khristo, no woman had ever done to him what Joanna was doing to him, and he hadn't even got her into bed yet.

But he would. He had to. And if the insistent voice of his conscience was protesting that this was his father's woman, his father's mistress, not his, he refused to listen.

Gathering her against him, he slid his fingers into the silken glory of her nair, revelling in the way it clung to his skin.

Everything about her was soft and sweet and desirable, and dizziness a.s.sailed him as he edged her back into the bedroom.

It was lucky that the bed wasn't far away. He sensed the moment the back of her legs. .h.i.t the side of it, and she made an unwary sound against his mouth as she lost her balance. Demetri bore her down onto the tumbled sheets, half afraid of what she might do now that his intention was clear. But to his relief she abandoned any attempt to break away from him, winding her slim arms about his neck and giving her self up to his searching caress.

Dear G.o.d. Demetri groaned, feeling the curving form be- neath him. Never had a woman felt this good; never had he been so desperate to make love. The cord of the negligee had loosened in her fall, and now all that was between his hand and the sensuous touch of her skin was the virtually transparent fabric of her nightgown. He wanted to tear it from her, to expose the enchanting length of her to his hun gry gaze. But, remembering what she had said earlier, he controlled his wilder impulses. There was no hurry, he told himself unsteadily. They had the rest of the night.

Although he was half afraid that in freeing her mouth he might give her the chance to change her mind, the simple need for oxygen had him releasing her lips to bury his face in the scented hollow of her throat. His heart was hammer ing like a mad thing in his chest and he gulped air into his starved lungs.

But Joanna had her own agenda, he discovered. Her fin gers curled into the hair at his nape, pressing his face against her, inciting a need in his lower limbs that was almost im possible to control. One slim leg curved across his thigh and a seductively bare sole inched beneath the cuff of his pants and caressed his ankle.

Demetri's blood pounded through his veins. He wanted out of his clothes, and fast. With unsteady fingers he tore at the buckle of his belt, struggling with the b.u.t.ton on his pants that arrantly refused to come loose. Then slim fingers brushed his hands aside, and seconds later he felt the relief of his zip sliding virtually una.s.sisted over his pulsing erec tion.

He half hoped she would go on and finish the job, but she didn't. With a breathless little gasp she pulled her hand away, and he was obliged to jerk the trousers over his hips and kick them off. His tee shirt followed them, and this time her reaction was much more positive. Almost tentatively, it seemed, her fingers probed the fine growth of hair that cov ered his chest, her nails finding his nipples before she rolled them beneath her palms.

Demetri couldn't wait much longer. Unable to stop him self, he found the hem of her nightgown and drew it up to her waist.

Long legs, a deliciously flat abdomen, the hollow of her navel: he saw all this in a moment. But his eyes moved swiftly to the cl.u.s.ter of pale curls between her legs, and, as if aware of where his attention was focussed, she shifted almost nervously beneath his gaze.

'Theos, is' oreos!' G.o.d, you're beautiful! His throat con- stricted with unaccustomed emotion. 'Ah, Joanna, do you have any idea how much I want you?'

Her lips parted. 'Do you?' she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. 'Do you really want me? Or-or-?'

'Or nothing,' he said hoa.r.s.ely, peeling her nightgown over her head as he spoke. His eyes darkened at the sight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, full and swollen and as rosily perfect as he had antic.i.p.ated. With a shuddering sigh he bent to take one tight nipple into his mouth.

He wet it with his tongue, his teeth digging ever so gently into the soft skin that sur rounded it. Then, speaking against her flesh, 'How could you doubt it?'

'You-you could have any woman you wanted,' she pro- tested, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he gave a shuddering sigh.

'I do not want any other woman,' he told her unevenly, and knew amazingly that it was true, 'I just want you.'

'But-'

There was only one way to silence her and he used it. Even as his hand slid down over the quivering swell of her belly to find the moist core of her womanhood his lips closed over hers again, his tongue plunging possessively into her mouth. She opened to him with delicious eagerness, capturing his tongue between her teeth as she opened her legs to admit his probing fingers.

She was ready for him. Her essence wet his fingers, rose in sensual waves of heat and urgency to his nose. And she was tight; so tight that it would be incredibly easy to delude himself that no other man had ever possessed her. She bucked a little as he caressed her, increasing the notion that no man had done this before.

He stifled a moan of impatience, realising he was in dan ger of losing what little control he had. Her fingers were on his back, exploring his backbone. Then sliding beneath the waistband of his shorts, finding the cleft between his but tocks with mind-shuddering intimacy.

She had no idea how close he was to making a complete fool of himself, he thought dazedly. But she must have. She was no teenager, indulging in her first experiment with s.e.x. She was a mature woman, adult and experienced. She must know exactly what her teasing hands were doing to him.

'My G.o.d, Joanna,' he said hoa.r.s.ely, feeling his shorts snag on his erection. Cool air was a relief against his hot flesh, and somehow he got the shorts down his legs so he could kick them off. He heard her breath catch in her throat when she saw him, and once again he had that feeling of unreality. But she was all woman. She was warm and s.e.xy, and so responsive that she blew his mind.

Taking one of her hands, he deliberately brought it to him.

Balancing his control on a knife-edge, he encouraged her fingers to close around him, and gave a groan of protest when she did as he asked.

'What is it? Did I do something wrong?' she murmured anxiously, drawing her hand away again, and he uttered a strangled gasp.

'No,' he a.s.sured her huskily. 'You did everything right.

It's-oh, Theos. I want to love you, Joanna. Let me really love you. Let me show you how incredible you are.'

She rose up then, to cover his lips with hers, and this time it was her tongue that surged into his mouth. Her kiss drove all thoughts of anything-or anybody-else out of his head. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were crushed against his chest; her stomach was close against his abdomen. Her spread legs, with knees drawn up, made it easy for him to move between her thighs.

He ached with the needs she had aroused in him. Looking down, seeing himself poised at the moist opening to her body, he didn't know how he stopped himself from simply plunging into her enticing heat. He wanted to. G.o.d, how he wanted to. Even the knowledge that he had come unpre pared for such intimacy was no real deterrent. But some thing, some inner instinct, perhaps, urged him to take his time.

He'd have liked to explain it as a belated sense of honour that had given him pause. But that wasn't true. He was too obsessed with her, with his own pa.s.sion for her, to entertain any serious doubts about what he was doing now. He wanted her. He was going to have her. But perhaps it would be good to prolong the expectation.

Good-but hardly sensible. Just the touch of her warmth, of her woman's body, had him trembling like a schoolboy. Senses were heightened, needs refined. This was going to be a life-altering experience. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did.

She was tight, so tight, he thought again. That was his final thought as he eased closer. Making love to her was going to be like making love to a virgin, and he hadn't known many of those in his career.

Her muscles closed about him, gripped him, driving him almost to a climax with their rippling strength. She was amazing, he thought, in his last coherent moment before his control snapped. Having her once was never going to be enough...

Joanna tensed. She couldn't help herself. So far, Demetri's hands and lips and tongue had done a wonderful job of convincing her that she could do this, but suddenly she wasn't so sure. She wasn't what he expected, and although she'd persuaded herself that he need never know how in experienced she was, that proposition no longer sounded so feasible.

Doubts flooded her mind: doubts about Demetri's real intentions, doubts about what she was doing. Even now she could hardly conceive of how she'd got herself into this situation, and the hot blood swept into her throat at the realisation of how wantonly she had behaved.

Was behaving, she amended unsteadily, trying to draw her legs together and finding the way blocked by hard, mus cular thighs. Oh, G.o.d, he was really going to do it. He was going to have s.e.x with her. Already she could feel the blunt heat of him nudging the sensitive place between her legs. And while the intelligent part of her brain was telling her that she couldn't go through with this, another part, a reck less emotional ent.i.ty, was urging her to give in to the needs that even sanity couldn't deny.

She was shaking. More from antic.i.p.ation than fear, she acknowledged weakly. But that didn't make it right. Yet she couldn't deny that she had started this. It was she who had kissed Demetri; she who had allowed him to push her down onto the bed and make a mockery of the frigidity she had always wrapped around her like a shield.

What was different about Demetri? Why, when she'd seen him standing beside her bed, hadn't she done what any sensible woman would have done and called for help? He'd had his back to her, after all, and just because she'd known instantly who it was, no one else would have doubted her panic at finding a dark-clad intruder in her room.

But she hadn't done that. In fact she'd been almost apol ogetic when he'd asked her where she'd been. Nor had she explained why she had been in Constantine's room. She had no doubt Demetri thought she'd come straight from his fa ther's bed, but of course she hadn't. She'd been in her own bed when she'd felt the need to check on Constantine, and she'd been returning from that unnecessary expedition when she'd found Demetri in circ.u.mstances which could only be described as suspicious.

Yet she'd accepted his explanation that he'd wanted to finish the conversation they'd been having when Athenee had interrupted them. A thin explanation at best, she con ceded now, when they'd both known that talking was not what Demetri had had in mind. Then or now, she appended silently, her head swimming with so many wild emotions she could hardly think.

So what was different about Demetri? she asked herself again, trying to hold on to her own ident.i.ty. Why, when Demetri kissed her, when he caressed her, when he crushed her beneath his heavy muscular body, didn't she remember how it had been with Richard? Why didn't she freeze up, as she had with every other man since her ex-husband had made such a travesty of her life?

She didn't know the answer. She only knew that Demetri aroused her in ways she'd never been aroused before. He made her feel like a woman, a real woman. A desirable woman, moreover. Without even being aware of it he had given her back her self-respect. And although she suspected she wouldn't feel half so positive in the morning, right now she didn't have the will-or the strength-to resist him.

However, that still didn't solve the problem of what she ought to do now. Though when Demetri sucked in his breath and dipped his head to lave her nipples with his tongue she found she was too bemused to care.

'You are- apithanos! Incredible,' he told her thickly, and all thought of trying to explain herself disappeared.

'Am I?' she heard herself say breathily, and instead of drawing away, telling him that he'd made a mistake about her, she arched up to meet him.

And knew at once that it was too late. The thick shaft which she had glimpsed earlier-and which had caused her no small measure of apprehension-was already pushing past the tight muscles that guarded her womb.

Heat, hot and hard and throbbing with life, was invading her lower body. It wasn't painful, but it was unfamiliar, and she knew a moment's consternation that she wouldn't be able to go on.

Richard had not been particularly well-endowed, whereas Demetri was-was- The pain that tore through her at that moment drove any thought of her ex-husband out of her head. Sharp and un- expected, it stifled the breath in her throat and brought hot tears to her eyes. She couldn't prevent the cry that broke from her lips at that moment, and if he had had any doubts before, Demetri was instantly aware of what he had done.

His eyes, suddenly burning into hers, were dark with con- fusion. And although it was much too late for him to do anything about it, it was obvious he was as shocked as she was. She felt his erection partially subside, and he shook his head as if to clear it. Then he stared at her as if he'd never seen her before.

'Theos,' he said in a shaken voice, his hands coming to cup her face. 'Mou lete-that is, why did you not tell me?'

Joanna was flushed, as much from humiliation as any thing else. But inside she felt cold. This was not how it was supposed to turn out. What price now her foolish hopes of hiding her ignorance from him?

'W-would you have believed me?' she asked at last, and Demetri acknowledged the guarded accusation with a rueful nod of his head.

'Ala-but you were married!' he exclaimed blankly, and she sighed.

'I told you about that.'

'Obviously not enough,' he said wryly, looking down to where their bodies were still joined. He uttered an oath.

'Signomi. I am sorry. I should never have done this.'

Joanna's eyes darted to his then, the realisation that this might be her only chance to at least pretend she was like any other woman making her reckless. 'Do you regret com ing here?' she breathed, sliding her hands up his chest. Once more she felt him stir inside her. 'You said you wanted me.'

'I did not know,' he said hoa.r.s.ely, grasping her hands in his to prevent their caressing touch. 'Joanna, you must un derstand that- Ah, Khristo-my father!' He shook his head dazedly. 'I do not understand.'

'Do you have to?' she protested, managing to reach his flat stomach with her fingertips. She gazed up at him. 'Not now, please!' Her tongue appeared in innocent provocation. 'Demetri: make love to me.'

'Mou Theos, Joanna...'

The muscles in his wrists tensed as he endeavoured to restrain her. But he didn't try very hard, and it was com paratively easy for her to break free and link her hands about his neck.

Her fingers tangled in the moist hair at his nape, and she exulted in the knowledge that she had done this to him. 'Kiss me,'

she said, discovering a confidence in herself she'd never known before. She reached up to him, finding his breathless mouth with hers, and with another m.u.f.fled oath he cradled her face between his palms and returned the kiss.

The magic had returned. A thrill of excitement swept over her trembling limbs, sending the blood pounding through her veins. She was no longer afraid of what was to happen. She welcomed it as she welcomed the undoubted strength of his pa.s.sion. Emotions, wild and turbulent, had taken over, and she was all softness, all eagerness, all woman in his arms.

Demetri couldn't resist her. Joanna seemed to know in- stinctively how to please him. Her teeth dug into his shoul der, drawing a groan of pleasurable protest from him, and then her hands curved over his tight b.u.t.tocks, bringing him even more fully between her thighs.

The only protest she made was when she thought he was going to draw away from her. But he came into her again, more powerfully than before, and where earlier there had been a nervous frisson of feeling, now she felt a stirring need that was tantalisingly different.

The muscles that gripped him tightened almost automat ically, and Demetri slid his hands beneath her to lift her to his thrusting shaft. He said something she didn't understand, some unsteady words in his own language whose meaning was perfectly clear nevertheless, and then added huskily, 'You have no idea how much I have wanted this-wanted you. Dear heaven, you have driven me-crazy!'

She wanted to say, Me, too, but she couldn't. A rising crescendo of need seemed to be building inside her, and only incoherent sounds of both pleasure and protest were issuing from her lips. She wanted to say that it couldn't go on, that she couldn't stand it, but apparently she could. Demetri's increasingly urgent body was plunging wildly into hers, and, looking up into his driven, sweating face, she saw a need to match her own.

His eyes were wide, impa.s.sioned, and her hands sought the damp skin of his shoulders in a desperate need to anchor herself.

She had the feeling she was losing herself, losing her sanity, gradually being absorbed into the being that was him.

Her climax came suddenly. It was as if she had been striving for something that was always out of reach and abruptly found it within her grasp. Shuddering ripples of pleasure swept over her quivering body, and for a few in credible moments she was totally blown away. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, nothing she could ever have imagined, and it took an effort to focus her eyes again and look at Demetri.

He, too, was caught up in the moment. Even as she watched he thrust violently against her, and she felt the flooding warmth of what could only be his seed inside her. His seed.' Dear heaven, she wasn't on the pill. She could get pregnant. Imagine how he would feel if she found she was carrying his child.

But she had no time to consider those implications. Even as Demetri collapsed upon her, even as he gave himself up to the luxury of pillowing his head in the dusky hollow between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, they both heard the sound of a man's voice from the sitting room next door.