A Shameful Consequence(45)

‘We can’t!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because …’ She was shivering with both reluctance and temptation. Reluctance, because it seemed wrong somehow; tempted, because Nico, so uninhibited, was already undressed, and she was gifted again with the sight of his body. Her eyes flicked down to what awaited. He beckoned her to the water.

‘No one can see or hear us.’ He was right. Despina’s house was tucked well away, and the pool was shaded by a huge fig tree. There was nothing to stop her from going in. In fact, Nico was already in. Looking up, she felt his adoring scrutiny as she took off her shoes. She stood and looked down at him as she unhooked her bra and took it off, and she smiled unseen, for he was certainly not looking at her face. And he closed his eyes, just for a second as she slid down her pants, then opened them again to issue an order.

‘Stay there.’ He asked her to stay just to see her, to look just once more at all that he had missed for a year. His eyes told her, told her as they slowly took her in, that this was all he had been thinking of for a very long time now.

And then he held out his hand to her and the water was bliss to slip into, his wet arms better still.

His kiss was slow, measured and tender, but still nerves made her shiver because she could feel every inch of him against her stomach, but there was some relief, for now he was in no rush.

‘Let me wash you.’

He made her smile, but wash her tenderly he did. His hands moved over her, washed her as if they contained soap. He washed her arms and then her fingers and then her back and then her breasts and then he rinsed her, scooped the water over. Then the imaginary soap washed her face and ears with both his mouth and fingers, and so gentle was he, so slow and caressing, that she almost forgot to be scared.

Not even when his hands moved beneath the water, when he washed her most intimate place. When his fingers delicately moved in each crevice, all she could do was lean on his shoulder and nibble and moan against his saltwater skin.

She was as slippery, deep inside, as if he had used soap, Nico could feel it. Now she was ready, and so, absolutely, was he.

She wrapped her legs around him, felt the cold stone against her back. He lowered her down to him and there was no stab like before, just a slow, accepting stretch. The water was calm and still, despite the fire beneath the surface, as she let him take her, as she trusted herself to his skill. He supported her body with his hands, the water barely moving; he was so slow and tender, and then he moved her some more, till she wanted more, till her legs wrapped tighter around him and Connie moved to her own rhythm as he still supported her.

On the surface they were just kissing, kissing mouth, face and shoulders, but they were intimately united beneath, locked in each other, till she could not kiss and just rested her head to the side of his. And was it the words he uttered or the throb of him that made her feel giddy? A heat spread out from a deep centre and coherence was abandoned, just a strangled laugh to dismiss his apology as his hands pushed her hips harder down, for her own orgasm rushed in to meet his. It was so intense and so deep that it shot to her spine, to her throat and seized at her brain, halting words, for which she was thankful, because she almost told him she loved him. And in that moment, she was sure, he would have loved her right back, a declaration might have been made, without Nico knowing all the facts.

She felt like a liar as he helped her out of the pool. Her legs were shaky once on firmer ground, and she could not look at him so bent to get her clothes instead.

‘Leave it.’

‘I am not leaving this for Despina!’ Because she knew he was not talking about leaving it to the morning, but to see Nico pick up, when he never did, to see Nico look up as she watched and smiled, she felt like crying, because he wasn’t almost perfect—he simply was.

‘Constantine?’ She heard the question in his voice as they headed back to the house, but she could not answer him. Instead, automatically, she headed to her bedroom to check on Leo and gave a small embarrassed laugh as he walked up behind her and she realised what she was doing.

‘Sheer habit,’ Connie said, but her laugh faded a little, because it did feel strange to be without Leo, strange to go to Nico’s bed and know her baby was not in the house.

‘You miss him?’ Nico asked as she lay in the dark next to him.

‘Yes,’ Connie admitted. ‘I mean, I’ve had the most wonderful night. It just feels a bit strange, not having him near.’ There was the longest pause and then Nico asked a question.