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She forced a laugh. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot. I had endometriosis. I might have it again someday, since it’s still possible to have a flare-up. I don’t know if you really know what that is but it’s incredibly painful. I was one of the lucky ones for whom it was especially bad. It causes bleeding and … pain. Lots of pain. Lots of blood. For me it caused pain during sex. After orgasm. It could last for days for me. And … I started just not wanting to have desire anymore. I didn’t even want to want sex. The reward was too fleeting for what I had to go through and … I rejected my husband. Often. I made him feel undesired. And you know what? He was.”
She was sure that had to have done the trick. That had to have scared him. “I think that’s your cue to turn and run.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m not a runner. Did it hurt you all the time?”
“Most of the time. I’ve had …” She always tripped over the word hysterectomy because there was something so defeating about it. “I had a procedure done to help, and it has, but … I haven’t tested how well it worked in terms of … it still scares me.”
“Jess …”
She was the one to take a step back. She shook her head. “It’s not worth it, Stavros. For one night? It’s not worth it. I’m way too much trouble. If you want one more fling before you get married make it with someone who’s easy. And I don’t mean that in the general sense. Make it with someone who actually wants sex.”
The idea of trying it again, of failing again, destroyed her. It was more than just what it might mean to him. It was that she wanted it so much, and the thought of desiring yet one more thing that remained out of her reach was too painful to even consider.
She’d made success. She’d left her failures behind. There was no point repeating the same mistakes.
“I’m tired.” She turned away from him and headed back to the house.
Stavros watched Jessica walk back into the villa, her arms wrapped around her body as though she were holding herself together with her own strength.
He felt numb. Numb and in pain all at once. He’d come out with the express purpose of seducing her. Of finding a way to put her in a category he was comfortable with. To embrace his sexual need and ignore the strange ache in his chest that seemed to appear whenever she was around.
It hadn’t worked. She hadn’t allowed the distance, and he certainly hadn’t been able to retreat behind the security of flirtation, not after that admission.
What an ass he was for making her confess something like that.
She was right, he should run. He should take her advice and focus on his upcoming marriage. Or find a woman to help him burn through his pent-up sexual desire.
He took a heavy breath and walked into the house, heading for his office. He closed the door behind him and sat at his computer desk. He ought to email his father, at the very least, to let him know he was almost certain he was close to finding the future queen of Kyonos.
Instead he opened his internet browser and stared at the blinking cursor in the text box of the search engine.
Then he typed in endometriosis.
She wanted to cry, and she couldn’t. She’d spent so long forcing herself to keep it together that now she actually wanted to take a moment to fall apart, she couldn’t.
It was impossible to force tears.
She just lay on her bed and stared out the window at the moon glimmering on the surface of the ocean. It was the perfection of nature, beautiful and unspoiled. She would never understand why some things were fashioned so perfectly when she wasn’t.
Why her body seemed to have been put together wrong when so many other people were made just right. Why she hadn’t been able to just buck up and deal with it. Why the shame and failure still ate at her like a parasite.
And she wanted Stavros so much she could hardly stand living in her skin. She wanted to touch him, wanted to taste him. She wanted to kiss him again, to have all that passion directed at her. Mostly she wished she could go back and not tell him about her endometriosis. It had been so nice to have a man look at her like she was beautiful. To have him not see her as different from other women, not in a bad way, but in a way that made her seem special rather than damaged.
When he said she was different, he hadn’t meant broken. He hadn’t meant pointless. Worthless as a woman or a partner.
His perception of her had been a lie, sure. But it was one she would have been happy to live in for just a little while.
She closed her eyes and let their kiss play through her mind again. Allowed herself to relive what it had been like to feel the pressure of his hard body against hers. To feel his lips against hers, so hot and demanding. So unlike any man she’d ever kissed.
Desire coiled in her stomach, her heart beating faster, her body begging her for some sort of release. Release she’d denied herself for so long. Too long, maybe.
She sat up and balled her hands into fists, pushing against her closed eyes. Without thinking, she stood, her heart hammering as she slipped out into the hall and looked in the direction of Stavros’s room. He would be in there by now, asleep.
And he wanted her. He’d said he did. It was such a rush. Such a shot of adrenaline. Pure, feminine pleasure. To be wanted. To want someone.
Her hands trembled and she shook them out, trying to steady them. Trying to steady herself. Easier said than done. She breathed in, then out again.
What if she could have a little bit of it? Something guaranteed. Something she couldn’t fail at. She tried to swallow but the motion stuck in her dry throat. The idea of sleeping with Stavros was the most elating and terrifying thing she could imagine. To be so vulnerable to a man who was so perfect. To take a chance at failing again. At being revealed as not good enough.
Blood roared in her ears as she made her way to his room. She stopped and wiped her hands, damp with sweat, on her skirt. She knocked lightly on the door, not pausing to think because, if she did, she would have just turned and scurried back to the safety of her bed.
“Yes?” She heard Stavros’s sleep-roughened voice from the other side of the door and she pushed it open.
He was propped up on his elbows, the sheets riding low around his waist, revealing his chest. The moon glanced off the hard ridges of muscle, the valleys cast into shadow, giving his body the impression of cut stone.
He was utter perfection. Just as she thought, that was not the sort of chest she’d ever touched before. And she was dying to touch him. Aching for it. His beauty drew her in, but it also intimidated.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. So lame. “Obviously you could so maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
“I wasn’t sleeping well,” he said.
“That’s good, I …” She took a step forward. “Can I?”
“Please,” he said, his face half-hidden in shadow, his voice strained.
She sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand out in front of her, curling it into a fist, then flexing her fingers as she fought against indecision. Then she placed her palm on his chest and her breath caught as a shock of fire streaked through her veins.
He was so hot, his hair rough on her skin, his muscles hard, his skin smooth. She let her fingers drift down over his sculpted muscles, lightly skimming, following the ripple of his body.
She leaned in and kissed his lips. He remained frozen beneath her, his stomach rock-hard beneath her hand, his body wound tight. She could feel his tension, flowing from every tendon and into her fingertips. Hers to command. Hers to enjoy.
Maybe she couldn’t have everything she wanted. But she could have some of it. He wanted her. And she could satisfy him. Without having to give up any power. Without being vulnerable. Without failing.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his forehead resting against hers, his lips a whisper away.
“If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right. It has been a while, maybe protocol has changed?” She kissed his neck, tasted salt and sweat on his skin.
She let her hands slide down beneath the sheet, where she found him hard for her, a whole lot bigger than she’d anticipated. An involuntary rush of air hissed through her teeth, matching time with Stavros’s sharp intake of breath as she curled her fingers around his erection.
In this, she was certain. Giving a man pleasure without taking any for herself had been a necessity in the latter days of her marriage. A desperate attempt to hold things together. A way to keep intimacy without having to deal with any physical discomfort.
She could do the same now, with Stavros. A way to have him without risking anything. It seemed so easy.
Except she was getting a lot hotter than she’d anticipated, and it made the thought of leaving his bed unsatisfied a lot less … satisfying than it had seemed a few moments earlier. Still, even without an orgasm she was enjoying this. Enjoying wanting him. Enjoying exploring his body.
It was a slice of what she wanted, and she’d learned to accept that that was how life was for her. Little tastes here and there of true pleasure, while the full experience stayed out of her reach. It would be enough, because it had to be.
She pressed a kiss to his pectoral muscle and down to his nipple, sliding her tongue over it, feeling it tighten beneath her touch.
His hand came up to the back of her head, fingers sifting through her hair. She smiled against his skin and continued to pepper kisses over his body. “You have the most incredible chest,” she said, “among other things.” She squeezed his shaft lightly. “I have never, ever, seen a man like you. Much less been close enough to have a taste. And I was really looking forward to it. You do not disappoint.” She lifted her head and tugged the sheet down, exposing him. “Oh, no, you don’t disappoint at all.”
Her heart beat hard, echoing in her temples, at the apex of her thighs. He was amazing. Everything she’d imagined and so much more. She leaned in and trailed her tongue over his stomach muscles, then flicked it over the head of his shaft. He jerked beneath her tongue, a rough groan escaping his lips as he tightened his hold on her hair.
She felt like she’d been let loose in a candy store. Every delight she could imagine spread before her. And she wasn’t planning on employing restraint.
She slipped her hand lower, took as much of him into her mouth as she could, reveling in the taste, the feel of him. She could feel the muscles in his thighs shaking, feel the tension in his body as he tried to maintain control.
She didn’t want his control. She wanted him to lose it. She wanted him to lose it in a way that she couldn’t. She wanted him to do it for her. She more than wanted it, she needed it. Needed his strength to dissolve beneath her, needed to be a part of his undoing. She wanted to exercise the power she had over him. And she did have it. She could feel it. Could feel just how close he was to losing it completely.
That was what she wanted. Needed. Craved. To have victory tonight, in his bed. To be perfection for him. For herself.
“Jessica,” he said, and he tugged lightly, trying to move her away from him.
She didn’t stop. She ran her tongue along his heavy length and she felt his ab muscles contract sharply beneath her hand.
“Jess,” he said again. His tone a warning.
She lifted her head, her eyes locking with his. His gaze was clouded, sweat beaded on his forehead. A surge of power rushed through her. “This is for me,” she said. “I want you like this. And I intend to have you.”
She leaned in again and his fingers tightened, tangling deep in her hair, the slight sting of pain heightening the pleasure that created a hollow ache between her thighs.
A shaky laugh escaped his lips. “Doesn’t it matter what I want?”
“Not in the least. But you like this, don’t you?” She traced the head of his shaft with her tongue. “Don’t you?”
“Theos, yes,” he breathed his consent.
She continued to pleasure him with her lips and tongue. And she took everything. His ecstasy, every broken breath and trembling muscle, every curse, every word of praise.
This was her moment. Her pleasure. Her power.
Her taste of what she truly wanted. A hint of the feast she couldn’t have.
She didn’t stop until he found his pleasure, his body shaking, his skin slicked with sweat, every vestige of control stripped of him as he found his release.
He lay on his back after, stroking her cheek. She rested her head on his stomach and closed her eyes. Just for a moment.
She felt him stir beneath her. He sat up and brought her with him, kissing her on the lips. The kiss intensified, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip, arousal pouring through her.
When she felt like she was on the edge, she pulled away. Her body trembled, her breath shaky and uneven. She had meant to push him to the brink. She hadn’t realized that she would go with him. She needed sanctuary. Needed escape.
“That was it,” she said, her voice choked. “I mean … I’m going back to bed now.”
He frowned. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”
“Just what I said. Most men would be pretty happy with that.”
His face was hidden in shadow, his tone dark. “Then why did you come to me tonight?”
“Because I wanted you. And I got to have you.”
“You didn’t have an orgasm,” he said, his words blunt in the quiet of the room.
“I know, but that wasn’t what I came for. I got to have a taste, no pun intended.” She slid off the bed and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “We can talk more tomorrow about how we’re going to handle all this.”
“This?” he said, indicating the bed.
She shook her head, heat prickling her cheeks. Not embarrassed heat, but anger. She was so mad at … everything. At her body, at Stavros, at herself. At the fear that lived inside of her. A tenant she couldn’t seem to evict. “No. About Victoria and where we intend to go from here with that part of our arrangement. You wanted a night. This was a good night. Let’s not ruin it now.”
“I wanted more,” he said. “I still want more.”
She nodded. “I know.” She wanted more, too. But any more would be far too much. She would have to be too vulnerable. She would have to give too much. Far more than she’d given tonight.
“Stay with me. Just sleep,” he said.
That was tempting. Beyond. To sleep in his arms with her head on his chest. To listen to his breathing all night … it surpassed almost every other desire that lived in her.
Which meant she had to say no. “I need to go to bed.”
His expression changed, hardened. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said.
“Okay.”
She had a feeling that he wasn’t going to stay on the topic she wanted to stay on. If there was one thing she’d learned about Stavros it was that beneath all that charm lay a stubbornness that rivaled her own.
Stavros’s body still burned. It had been six hours since his late-night visit from Jessica and he couldn’t get it, or her, out of his mind. The way she’d taken him, so confident, so bold and sexy. And the way she’d retreated, arms wrapped around her middle, looking like she wanted to disappear.
His feelings on the matter didn’t make sense. He’d wanted her to stay. Even if it just meant holding her all night. He’d wanted … he wasn’t sure what he’d wanted.
Her actions didn’t make sense to him, either. Sex was all about pleasure and release, and she’d taken none for herself. She hadn’t removed any of her clothes, he’d barely touched her, and yet, she’d acted as though it was what she wanted.
And then she’d acted like they weren’t going to talk about it. She was so very wrong on that count.
His housekeeper refilled his mug of coffee and retreated from the terrace as he lifted the cup to his lips. There was another mug placed across from him and the contents were getting cold, but they were ready for Jessica, when she decided to show herself.
“Morning.” He turned and saw Jessica, buttoned up into a yellow dress that covered her from knee to throat, a white belt spanning her tiny waist. She was clutching her little computer in her hands. Her tiny electronic shield.
“Good morning,” he said, not bothering to be discreet in his appraisal of her. Her cheeks flushed as she sat down across from him.
She took a sip of her coffee and frowned, not swallowing, not spitting it back out, either.
“Cold?” he asked. She nodded, her frown intensifying. “Bitter?” She nodded again. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
She swallowed slowly, her lip curling into a grimace. “I’ll need fresh coffee.”
“Leda will be back soon,” he said.
“So, things went well last night?”
