The Greek Tycoon's Revenge. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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Eloise shook violently, a fierce tension she had never experienced before jerking her every nerve and muscle tight, driving every single thought from her head, and leaving only a fiery need that was almost pain. ‘Please,’ she moaned, her head thrashing from side to side. His hands slipped under her hips and lifted her clear of the bed. She felt the velvet tip of his hard male flesh stroke and then with one thrust he was there, where she wanted him to be.
Eloise felt the briefest of pains, and then it happened. Marcus’s great body stilled for a second in disbelief.
She moaned his name and he moved deep and hard, filling her, stretching her, and taking her on a wild journey of almost mystical proportion. She felt the mighty strength of him thrusting, driving her on, until she cried out as her slender body convulsed in a paroxysm of sensation, and he joined with her until she had lost all sense of self, and the two of them became one perfect whole.
Afterwards she lay in his arms and felt the light caress of his fingertips against her sweat-damped flesh, soothing and caressing; he was murmuring husky words in Greek she did not understand. She sighed her delight, then tensed as his fingers found the ridge of flesh forming a scar on her inner thigh.
‘What is this?’ Marcus asked lazily, leaning over her and, by the dim light, let his slumberous eyes sweep over her beautiful naked body to where his fingers had found a small ridge of flesh. One long shapely leg had a scar about four inches long almost at the top.
‘Nothing.’ Eloise tried to cross her legs suddenly embarrassed. ‘Just a scar. I’m sorry if it upsets you.’
‘Oh, no, sweetheart,’ Marcus exclaimed and smiled down at her. ‘It does not upset me; in fact it is rather endearing. A tiny blemish in such perfection makes you seem more human,’ he opined, and brushed her lips with his. ‘But how did it happen? You did not have it when you were nineteen.’
‘No…well…’ She hesitated, and swallowed hard. ‘I was locked out of my apartment and I broke a window to get in, and cut my leg—nothing serious.’
‘Nothing serious,’ he murmured, moving down her naked body; he let his fingers trace the scar, feeling anger for her accident, and fiercely protective. As his woman there would be no more accidents, he vowed, and his lips followed the path of his fingers. This time the loving was slow and tender, but the end was the same, one perfect unity.
Eloise curled up close and wrapped her arms around his neck. She did not want to think about the past. She did not want to think about anything except how much she loved this man. Tonight had been a revelation and, for the first time in her life, she knew what it was to be a woman, and it was all because of Marcus. She hugged him, finally admitting to herself she had never got over him. She had loved him as a teenager, and she loved him now and probably always would, and a contented sigh escaped her.
‘Sighing. I didn’t think I was that bad,’ Marcus prompted and tilted her chin with a finger, his dark eyes gleaming down into hers.
‘That was a happy sigh,’ she speedily corrected him and, lifting a finger, she placed it over his lips. ‘And you know it, Buster. I can see smug male triumph in your eyes,’ she teased back.
‘Cheeky.’ He grinned broadly. ‘But I…’ Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the loud ringing of the telephone.
Hauling himself off the bed, Marcus picked up the phone from the bedside table, and as Eloise watched the laughing teasing lover vanished and the hard-headed businessman took his place. He was talking in Greek, and when he finally put the phone down he turned to Eloise. ‘Sorry about that.’
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