The Greek's Pregnant Bride - Page 45

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Alessandra applied a touch more lipstick then tightened the sash of her silk white robe.

Who needed alcohol?

Desire pulsed through her, making her pulses race uncontrollably.

She hadn’t expected that a ring on her finger and a signed piece of paper could make her feel so different but it did.

Christian was the only man she’d ever truly wanted.

She remembered the first time she’d met him, when she’d been twelve and Rocco had brought the Brat Pack to Lake Como for a break. How young and naïve she’d been, still believing in love and romance. She’d taken one look at Adonis and her heart had skipped into her mouth.

He’d hardly noticed her existence.

Looking back with the benefit of hindsight on her ill-fated tryst with Javier, she could see it was the flattery she’d responded to, not him. She’d swallowed all his lies because she’d been flattered a man, not an immature boy, was showing an interest in her.

With Christian, it was the man himself she responded to.

She dabbed some perfume behind her ear and onto her wrists and left the privacy of the bathroom. It was time to see her husband as his wife.


WHEN ALESSANDRA EMERGED from the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her, the only sound Christian could hear was his own heartbeat. Drumming. Thundering in his ears.

He’d stripped naked, shedding his clothes in front of the mirror, staring closely at his reflection.

He didn’t know what it could be but he felt different.

He looked the same. The desire he felt for his beautiful bride still burned deep inside him.

But something had changed.

Now he sat in the huge bed, leant back against the headboard, the bed sheets draped across his lap, a dim light glowing. And she was here with him, her dress removed, only a white robe covering her beautiful figure.

Slowly she stepped to him until she reached his side.

‘Take your robe off.’ He could hear the thickness in the timbre of his voice.

Her hands trembled, but a knowing smile pulled at her lips. She tugged at the sash of her robe and parted it, letting it drop to the floor.

Christian couldn’t have torn his gaze away if he’d wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

He wanted to capture this moment so he could replay it forever.

Theos but she was more beautiful than he remembered, the white of her lacy lingerie contrasting against the golden hue of her skin.

Her breasts were swollen, the bra pushing them up to display her cleavage, only just hiding the dusky nipples he remembered so well.

Sitting upright, he extended a hand to grip onto her curved hip, sliding a finger under the strap of her suspender belt.

He ran his other hand up the soft swell of her belly, only slightly thickened since he’d last seen her unclothed.

She dropped a hand onto his shoulder, a cloud of her sultry scent releasing and filling his senses. He’d never known a scent like it, so perfectly matching its owner, a sweet yet musky fragrance, with depth.

He traced his hand back down her belly and clasped hold of her other hip, tugging her to him.

Inhaling her scent deeply into his lungs, he pressed a kiss into the curve of her neck, felt her quiver.

The ache in his groin, that constant state of affairs whenever he was with her, magnified by a thousand, his entire body coming alive to her sweet touch and even sweeter taste.

Using gentle manipulation, he pulled her onto the bed facing him, so she straddled his still-covered lap.

Her eyes darkened and swirled, arousal and desire burning strongly.

The first time they’d made love he’d plunged into her without a thought. His shock at discovering she was a virgin had been masked by concern that he’d hurt her. Her breath had hitched, a tiny mew escaping her throat. He’d held her tightly, stroking her hair, her body, raining kisses over her face until he’d felt her relax, seen her pupils dilate...

She’d been so responsive to everything he’d done to her, so eager to give in return.