Postcards From New York. Stefanie London

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Postcards From New York - Stefanie London Mills & Boon M&B

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she looked up at him, her green eyes dark and full of question.

      ‘My turn.’ The gravelly growl of his voice was almost unrecognisable as he pulled her to her feet then pushed her back onto the sofa. With predatory instinct he knelt up before her and, leaning on her, pressed his lips to hers, taking in her gasp of pleasure.

      ‘Nikolai,’ she breathed as he kissed down her neck rapidly. She arched herself towards him as he took one nipple between his teeth, nipping, teasing, before caressing it with his tongue.

      Again enforced restraint made him shake and he braced his arms tighter to hold himself over her. She writhed in pleasure beneath him as he turned his attention to the other nipple, her hands roaming hungrily over his body.

      As he moved lower still, kissing over her stomach, she clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging in, the spike of pain so erotic he could hardly hang on to his control any longer. But he wasn’t finished with her yet.

      He moved his head between her legs, tasting her as she lifted her hips upwards, all but begging him for more. He teased her with his tongue, pushing her to the edge, but stopping as he felt her begin to tremble, not ready to let her go over just yet.

      ‘Let’s go to the bedroom,’ he said between kisses as he moved back up over her stomach, over the hardened peak of her nipple and up her throat.

      ‘No,’ she gasped as she clung to him, wrapping her legs around him, the heat of her touching him; he knew that he was lost, that all control was gone.

      In one swift move he filled her, thrusting deep into her and making her his once more. She gasped as she gripped harder onto his back, her hips lifting to take him deeper inside her. It was wild. Passionate.

      Her body was hot and damp against his, but still it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, much more. With a growl he thrust harder, striking up a fierce rhythm she matched. Her cries of pleasure pushed him further until he forgot everything except her. With one final thrust, he took her over the edge with him.

      * * *

      Darkness still filled the room as Emma lay contentedly against Nikolai after the hours of making love. They had moved from the sofa to the shower and then finally to his bed. She should be exhausted, but she’d never been so alive, so vibrant. It was almost too good to be true.

      The doubts she’d had about accepting his so-called proposal had been blown away by the hot sex they’d shared. If things were that good between them, wasn’t there hope he might one day feel something deeper for her? She certainly wanted that to be true because her feelings were definitely growing for him. They had become deep and meaningful. Did that mean she was falling in love with him?

      As the question reared up before her, Nikolai stirred and she braced herself, remembering how she’d woken to find him staring out of the window in Vladimir. Had he regretted that night? A night which had changed both of their lives beyond recognition. More questions stirred in her mind as Nikolai propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her, his eyes filling with desire once more.

      ‘I’m going to see some sights today,’ she said, trying to fight the rise of a fresh wave of desire. She didn’t want their time together to be all about sex. She wanted to get to know him better, but while he kept the barrier raised around himself that was going to be difficult. Did he ever let anyone get close?

      ‘We’ll go together.’ He pulled her against him and kissed her and she almost gave in.

      ‘That would be nice,’ she said with a teasing smile and moved away from him. ‘It will be a nice way to get to know each other better.’

      ‘How much better do we need to know each other?’ He was smiling but there was a hint of caution in his voice.

      ‘There’s so much we don’t know about each other.’

      ‘Such as?’ The hard tone of his voice had become guarded and it was like being back in Vladimir that first night with him. The impenetrable wall was right round him, shutting her out.

      ‘What we really want from this marriage.’ She let the words fall softly between them.

      ‘I know what you want. You want financial security. Why else would you come all this way? You also want for your child what you never had—a father figure.’

      Did he have any idea he’d got it so right? Was he really that cruel he’d manipulate her insecurities so coldly?

      ‘My offer of marriage is exactly what you wanted.’ He spoke again and all she could do was take it, knowing it was all true. ‘Even though you held out for a bit more, marriage is what you came here for, wasn’t it, Emma?’

      ‘What?’ She couldn’t believe what he was saying, but neither could she move. All she could do was stay there and look at him.

      ‘Is tonight part of a bigger plan?’

      How could a night so perfect turn into a one so terrible? Emma shivered in the shadow of the gulf which had opened up between them at the mention of the deal they’d struck. ‘Is that what you really think?’

      ‘You have given me no reason to think otherwise.’ He threw back the sheets and strode across the room to pull on his jeans, totally uncaring about his nakedness. He was running again.

      ‘Nikolai.’ She said his name more sharply than she intended. ‘Don’t go. Not again.’

      He stood at the end of the bed in the semi-darkness of the room and glared at her. ‘What exactly is it you want to know, Emma? And, more to the point, who is asking—the woman I am to marry, the one who is carrying my child or the woman who wants to get to the truth just for an article in a magazine?’

      Emma recoiled at his fierce tone, but it proved he was hiding the truth, that whatever it was he’d gone to great lengths to conceal from her in Vladimir was still there, creating a barrier around him as physical as a wall of bricks and mortar.

      ‘I’m asking, Nikolai—as your fiancée—because I care, because if we don’t deal with this, whatever it is that’s keeping you emotionally shut away, making you so cold, it will fester between us, always dominating, always threatening. Do you want your child to grow up under that cloud?’ Her passionate plea didn’t dent his armour.

      ‘What do you want? My life story? I gave you that in Vladimir.’

      ‘You gave me the version you wanted me to know, but things have changed. We are having a baby and, if we’re to marry, then I want that marriage to be a success. I don’t want our child to grow up knowing any kind of insecurities.’

      ‘What do you know of insecurities, Emma?’ His voice had softened, taken on a more resigned tone.

      ‘Much more than you might think.’ Her own childhood, the unhappiness of continuously moving to new foster homes, crept back to the fore, as did her father’s rejection. She pushed it away. Nikolai must never know what sort of mother she’d been raised by. If he did, he might think she wasn’t fit to be a mother herself, and she couldn’t risk her baby being taken away, like she and Jess had been.

      ‘Do you really think that’s possible?’ He glared at her and she knew he was angry that she was not only challenging him but being evasive herself.

      ‘Tell me, Nikolai. I know

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