Page 24 of Pregnant Behind the Veil (Brides for Greek Brothers #3)

“I don’t play fair. I play to win.”

If seducing my wife helps convince her to stay, I’ll use every tool at my disposal.

The waitress brings us a plate of spanakopita, flaky phyllo pastry filled with cheese and spinach and served with a homemade tzatziki sauce.

As Alessandra takes a bite, I brush my leg against hers under the table.

Her eyes flare even as she glares at me.

My amusement is short-lived when she returns the gesture, leaning over to point something out on the sea as she places her hand on my thigh, just short of my groin.

The rest of dinner continues in the same manner. Teasing touches over grape leaves stuffed with rice, herbs and beef. The brush of a kiss on the cheek as the waitress brings out a steaming pan of sautéed Greek prawns. Seductive whispers as we finish our meal with honey-drizzled baklava.

By the time we leave, I’m so hard it hurts. I started this, but she’s met me at every step, driving me into a sexual frenzy until all I can see, think, feel, is her.

As soon as we step inside the villa, I close the door and press her against the wall. I grab her wrists and pin them above her head just before I slant my lips across hers. I taste honey and desire, heat and passion, as my tongue slips inside her mouth. She moves her hips against me as she groans.

“Michail, please…”

I scoop her up into my arms, startling a laugh from her.

“I’m too heavy.”

I kiss her again. “I’m not letting you go.”

When we reach my room, I wait for her protest. When she doesn’t say anything, I carry her inside.

I set her on her feet. Step away and strip my clothes off. The cool air is a balm for my heated skin. Her eyes rake over me from head to toe, her breathing harsh as she stares at me.

Then, slowly, she pulls her dress over her head.

God, she’s beautiful. Still the same long, lithe limbs, the curve of her waist. But the sight of her, stomach rounded with our child, is so sexy I have to clench my fists so I don’t reach out and give in to the desire to rip the midnight blue lace she’s wearing from her body.

Slowly, so slowly it just might kill me, she slips the bra off.

Her breasts are full, her nipples a dusky rose and pebbled, just begging for my mouth.

A couple tugs and the panties pool at her feet.

I drink in the sight of her. Imprint this moment in my memory.

And then I take her.

Alessandra

Michail crosses the room in a matter of seconds and pulls me into his arms. I sigh as our naked bodies press together, the hair on his chest a gentle scrape against my breasts. His fingers tangle in my hair as he tilts my head back and kisses me with a firm tenderness that makes my blood sing.

He tugs me over to the bed. Cool air drifts in, carrying the scents of the sea and the bougainvillea climbing up a trellis on the balcony. I shiver.

“I’ll warm you up.”

Michail’s promise sinks into me, warms me as my muscles tighten in anticipation. But this time, when he tries to gently push me back onto the bed, I turn and plant my hands against his firm chest.

“My turn.”

With a quick push he falls back onto the bed. His husky laugh turns to a groan as I kneel between his legs.

“Alessandra…”

I wrap my hand around him, kiss the heated skin. “Please. I want to touch you.”

I tease and taunt, kissing and licking my way up and down his hard length.

When I at last take him in my mouth, his hips bow up off the bed as he utters my name in a guttural growl that makes me feel powerful and seductive.

As I make love to him with my mouth, my other hand caresses his thighs, his abs.

His hands grab my shoulders.

“I need to be inside you.”

I flow up his body, straddling him as I kiss him. I start to grab him to guide him inside, but his hands clamp down on my hips.

“May I?”

Confused and burning with need, I stare down at him.

“But…”

He slowly eases me off of him, guides me onto my side on the bed. He lies down behind me. The heat from his body sears my skin as I press back against his hardness. I feel him against my core. And then, slowly, he eases inside me.

“Michail…”

One hand grasps my breast, his fingers a tease against my nipple as he moves inside me.

“You feel so good.”

His breath feathers across my neck. I lean my head back, moan again as his lips blaze a trail down my neck. His thrusts grow harder, pleasure and pressure building in equal measure. As we move, his hand slides from my breast to cup my stomach.

I freeze. The intimacy of his touch, the feeling of his hand where mine so often rests, is a shock.

Michail stops. He utters a curse and starts to pull his hand away.

“I—”

“No.” I grab his hand, guide it back and lay mine on top. “Please don’t stop.”

I turn my head to look at him. Michail is watching me with emotion burning in his eyes. He kisses me, hard and deep.

And then he starts to move again, each thrust of his hips filling my body with unspeakable pleasure.

I reach my peak, cry out as he fills me. He follows a moment later, his moan vibrating through my body.

I don’t how long we lie there with his arm across my waist and his head pressed to my hair. I only know that I don’t want to move. I don’t want this moment to ever end.

The moment I finally accept that I’m falling in love with my husband.