A Legacy of Secrets(18)

‘Buckle up.’ Santo smiled a decadent smile.

‘Sorry.’

‘Cross your ankles, Ella.’

And in this, she rather liked having Santo as her boss. Ella did as she was told—locked her ankles together behind him—and he leant back into them, a small safety check before he shot her to the sky. There was no room for thoughts any more, no struggle to hold on, or anticipate regret. There was nothing other than the rapid thrust of him, the ferocity of Santo between her thighs as he jolted her out of sexual complacency, showed her how good it could be. She felt the first shudders of orgasm, felt the arch of her back in his hands, and she moaned her come as still he thrashed inside her.

‘Come on, Ella...’ He did not give her a moment to think, he just completely consumed her. He was holding on for dear life, when there was surely no need to, Ella thought, because she had already come, except she’d never been locked in orgasm with Santo. It was like falling through a trapdoor and then into another. He took her deeper into herself than she had ever been, deeper into them. This was supposed to be strictly sex, yet she was biting down not to shout his name. He moved her hips faster and then as his hands stilled her, as he bucked freely within, Ella was coming in a way she never had before, like lightning that strikes from the ground up. She didn’t know where it began and ended. She was taut, writhing, frenzied and already crying over Santo as, satisfied by her surrender, he gave in then and pushed and pulsed within, dragging words out of Ella that made no sense even to her as she came again.

‘Thank you...’ The delicious assault on her senses didn’t end as their bodies slowed down. He made it sound as if she’d just saved his life. He toppled onto her, was kissing her, his words dizzying. It wasn’t over, it was a mere interlude. She was in his bed and going nowhere, Santo was sure of it, because finally there was one good thing today and he wasn’t about to let it go.





CHAPTER FIVE



SANTO SOON DECLARED he was starving.

‘There are some pastries out there...’ Ella started, but then stopped. As if Santo would make do with stale pastries and tepid fruit juice—he was already reaching for the bedside phone.

‘What do you want?’ There was no consulting menus with Santo, Ella already knew that. He ordered and generally got whatever came first to mind.

‘I don’t mind.’

Santo ordered finger food and champagne, but unable to wait, he headed out and poured some fruit juice, looking out to the press below and sticking up one finger.

He’d checked his phone—still nothing from Alessandro. He flicked on his computer, more to see if there was any breaking news on his family, but he stood quiet for a moment, reading the email she had been sent, the last thing she’d been looking at before she joined him in his bed.

That was what had changed her mind.

He’d spent a long time wondering about Ella.

Too long thinking about how they’d be in bed.

And now he knew.

Except, unusually for Santo, he wanted to know more, a lot more.

He climbed back into bed and gave her a drink. When a little while later there was a knock at the door that declared their refreshment break was about to commence, unlike Santo, Ella couldn’t just lie there as supplies were brought in, so she hid in the bathroom for a few moments, much to his amusement.

‘You are such a prude.’ Santo grinned as she walked back into the bedroom and he held open the sheet for her to climb in. ‘And soon we will work on it, but first, I apologise—I am going to have to make some phone calls.’ Of course the real world was waiting and she was more than used to Santo on the phone. All too often he wandered off, or stepped into another room, but this afternoon, privacy was somewhat discarded and they ate and drank champagne as he made a couple of rather terse phone calls to various family members. From the gist of things there was a lot of fallout from last night, which Santo confirmed when he hung up on the previous call and asked her to divert all calls unless it was his brother.

‘Unless it is Alessandro I’m staying out of it.’ He lay back and rested his hands above his head and looked up at the ceiling, examining yesterday’s events a touch more calmly now. For once he wanted to talk about it with someone who wasn’t family—not, of course, that he could tell Ella everything.

‘You know we are going for the contract to renovate the docklands?’

‘Sort of.’ Ella, who was trying to decide between the sweetest figs she had ever tasted and the last of the chocolate-covered strawberries, looked over at him. Everything was so guarded with the Correttis and yet so intertwined. The docklands they were hoping to renovate was in fact being used for filming. She knew that the Correttis were hoping to breathe new life into the area and, naturally, bring a lot of money in.