thighs, and he ran his palms down from her hips to her knees and then up again. Every place he touched burned. Every place he looked melted.
He was examining her, a possessive light in his eyes, his dark gaze burning and intent. Hungry.
Carnal.
Her heart thudded so hard it hurt to breathe, and she couldn’t look anymore, overwhelmed by his intensity and the rawness of his desire.
She closed her eyes as his mouth touched the inside of her knee, and she sighed as his lips trailed up the inner thigh, kissing higher until he’d reached the edge of the lace. He stroked over the pantie and the fullness of her mound, and then slipped beneath the elastic, lightly tracing where she was wet and then sliding the wetness over her lips and clit.
His head dropped again, and he kissed where he touched, through the satin and then peeling the panties back, where she was pink and tender and glistening.
He did things with his tongue that made it impossible to breathe. He licked and stroked, lapped and sucked, and Georgia did not want it to end. She wasn’t ready to come, but he’d wound her so tightly, her nerves stretched, her body tense with pleasure that when he slipped his fingers into her and then stroked up even as he flicked his tongue over her sensitive clit, she exploded, climaxing so hard she cried out, and grabbed for Nikos’s shoulder, desperate to touch him, feel him, needing his strength to anchor her and keep her from blowing away.
“Amazing,” she whispered as he stretched out next to her. She pressed herself to his side, still craving his warmth and determined to keep him with her. He’d said he wasn’t going to walk away, but she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t ready to let him go. “You are amazing,” she added.
He held her against him, and she was content to lie in the circle of his arm until her heart stopped beating so wildly, but as she relaxed, she realized he was still dressed and she was somewhat in disarray and he’d given her pleasure but it wasn’t what she’d hoped would happen.
“We need to get out of these clothes,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder, lightly raking her nails over his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and then her temple and the side of her cheek, murmuring, “I think now might be a good time to get you back to your room.”
“No. Can’t go yet,” she said, snuggling closer and lifting her face so that she could kiss him. She could taste herself on his lips and it reminded her of how giving he was, and how passionate, and how much she wanted to give him pleasure, too. “We haven’t even begun.”
“I don’t want you to have regrets.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming the crush of her breasts to his chest and the feel of his thigh as it moved between her legs. “My only regret would be not making love to you.”
“I have more scars.”
“I’ve seen them. They’re nothing.”
“They’re something.”
“I think they’re beautiful. They’re part of you.”
As he closed the balcony door and drew the curtains, she stripped off her clothes and then watched as he undressed.
Her eyes widened as his trousers fell and his shaft jutted up, long and thick and impressively erect. He turned off the lights, and she felt a little tremor of trepidation as he returned to bed, drawing the covers over them as the night was cool.
This had been her idea, but she was suddenly nervous. Or maybe it was excited. It was hard to know when her pulse was beating double time and she felt as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
Nikos pulled her against him, and she snuggled close, letting his powerful body warm hers, enjoying just being held. “Nervous?” he asked.
She nodded. “Just a little bit.”
“We don’t have to do anything.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you just sleep with me.”
“Okay,” she whispered, pressing even closer so that she could feel his hair-roughened chest scrape her breasts and his long legs intertwine with hers.
He was so warm, and he felt so big and protective. She couldn’t remember when she last felt so safe.
Georgia put her hand to his chest and caressed over his rib cage, feeling the ridge of muscle beneath the firm, smooth skin. She knew his scars were higher up, on one shoulder, and along his neck. She stroked his back, savoring each hard, taut muscle, and then up higher, to the shoulder where she encountered thickened skin.
She felt him tense but didn’t stop her exploration, caressing his broad shoulders and then down one thickly muscled arm.
“You have quite the hot bod,” she whispered.
“The scars don’t disgust you?”
“How could they? They are part of you.”
“I think you will make a very good doctor.”
She felt a pinch in her chest, a sharp reminder that this was all temporary, that she wasn’t his for keeps, that they were just playing a game, staying busy, until June...
He must have felt the shift in her mood because he rolled her onto her back, stopping her exploration. “We don’t have to do this.”
He sounded somber, almost grim, and she ran her hands up and down his arms. “Oh, yes, we do.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be with you. I want to know what it’s like being your woman.”
* * *
For a split second Nikos couldn’t breathe, the air trapped in his lungs, his chest seizing closed.
She wanted to know what it was like to be his woman.
His woman.
There was fire in his eyes. A hot, gritty sting that echoed the burn in his chest.
He didn’t think he’d ever have another woman. He didn’t think he deserved a woman of his own.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone,” he said gruffly. “Years.”
“Not since Elsa?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like being so celibate?”
“It is better than hurting anyone.”
Her hands were on his chest, stroking over the muscle that covered his heart. “You won’t hurt me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re a good man. An honest man. Not perfect but definitely likable.”
He dropped his head, kissed her lips and then her jaw and then lower. She lifted her chin, giving him access to her neck and sighing with pleasure as he found sensitive nerves.
Her hands were caressing him as he kissed her, stroking his stomach, his hip, his thigh before brushing light fingertips over his throbbing erection.
He gritted his teeth, holding back a groan as she wrapped a hand around his shaft, discovering his weight and heat and length.
It was all he could do not to pump into her, to hold still while she explored him, cupping him, stroking, running her thumb over the head of his shaft, rubbing the drop of moisture over the broad tip.
“You are very impressive,” she whispered.
“Let’s see if I remember how to do this,” he said, catching her hand to lift her arms above her head even as he settled his hips between her thighs.
She gave a deep, throaty sigh as he slowly eased into her.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, holding still.